I have eleven short stories coming out in seven anthologies in the next seven months.  I’ve had a run of sales recently-- and two more today.  It’s really nice to be selling steadily, if a little overwhelming.  My backlog, which usually has at least six or seven short stories languishing without a home, is currently empty.  Everything is either sold or under consideration (in addition to the eleven stories sold, I have another twelve making the rounds).  I’m not bragging.  Seeing that empty file folder scares me.  A lot.

I’m starting to think the only thing worse than rejection is acceptance.  I feel like I need to be pushing myself harder, creating bigger challenges, writing more, more, MORE.  Rejection has a way of keeping me humble and critical of my writing.  Success just freaks me out.  What is wrong with these editors that they want my stuff? 

Yeah, that’s the way I think.  Please don’t suggest therapy, I’m afraid it wouldn’t help.  I need to ride the wave while I can, because it’s only a matter of time before the tide turns and I’m lamenting my inability to sell anything to anyone.

In the meantime, I think I’m going to go write something.

Posted by Kristina in Writing at 11:14 PM Permalink