I'm having a writing weekend - fuelled by copious amounts of white tea. Today was spent editing my shorts, flashes and micros (NOT a euphemism) and finding a possible sub-home for them all. Grand total out there, waiting for a response, comes to 17, with 3 more needing some serious editing and 5 more half-written. When I started subbing a few months ago, I thought the rejection would be hard - cringeworthy - devastating. But really? It's ok. What it means is either A) the story just isn't good enough or B) it isn't right for the market. It doesn't hurt my feelings - the answer to both those reasons for rejection is: Keep Trying.
I generally re-submit to somewhere else as soon as I get the rejection, after a fresh readthrough. If something during the read niggles at me, I'll shelve it for another edit or a rewrite. It's a perpertual work-in-progress and I kind of like the wait, the bait, the slap in the face - be it a 'yay' or 'nay'. I like shopping around the many wonderful lit mags out there, reading story upon story, getting a feel for tone and style and sense of humour and working out which of my stories will fit where.
And tomorrow... is a full on novel editing day. My favourite cafe opens at 10am - they staff are used to finding me standing there outside on the dot of ten, or sifting through the orgasmic second hand book shop that lives opposite. If I roll up at lunch time they know I'm happy to wait, typing away in a corner until they've finished the lunch rush of food orders before they get me a coffee. They've seen me progress from laptop, to print out edits and back to laptop again over the last year. I've slowly achieved the lung-screaming trophy of being able to cycle up the entirety of the mahoosive, near vertical hill that leads to the cafe's door - arriving on my knees whispering, "water please..." They sidle up to my table and murmer about the red velvet cake or the double fudge brownies (NOT a euphemism) they've had delivered that morning. I should probably just live there.
So that's my weekend planned out, except in case of heavy snow (predicted for Tuesday), acts of Small Child (such as the vomiting bug that is creeping around our local area, toddler by toddler), death of bike or similar apocalyptic occurences.
If I could do this for a LIVING....? Fucking bliss.