Yesterday, even in the throes of some serious self-doubt, I still submitted a short-story for publication. It was designed to evoke horror, something I hadn’t attempted before. So I knew this one would be tough to find a home for.
Prior to this, none of the stories I wrote were designed to fit into a particular genre – I was just having fun expressing myself. For those who aren’t writers, constant rejection is a big part of the game (if you are trying to get published), and yesterday, for the first time, I was wrestling with the idea that my stuff might be too dark and hard-hitting to find a home.
Not twelve hours after submitting, it was accepted for publication. To say it pushes the boundaries of what’s acceptable would be a gross understatement.
There are some important lessons to be learned here – I need to think about this more to fully grasp the implications. But I’ve often said that life will tell you what your next move is, you just have to pay attention and listen.
The timing here seems important.