I'm laughing. I'm seriously out of my mind. But I've just committed the biggest writing flub of my short and now very brief writing career. True confession to follow.
I love to write, hence this blog... And lately I've been wondering if what I write is in anyway publishable. It all started around Thanksgiving when I handed off my first ever attempt to be published, outside of the scientific community, to an editor friend of mine. He in turn handed it off to an editor friend of his and viola I got a by line. And I'm dancing in the street.
Since then I've been sending an essay here and an essay there, testing the waters. Nothing. No rejections. No responses. But inspired by FC's blog entry on persistence I decided to follow up on one of my essays. I basically emailed with the questions: Remember me? Did you like it?
And wouldn't you know I actually got a response. Got it. Haven't read it. Will get back to you within the week.
I almost died, right then and there. And if I had, this death I'm feeling now would be for not.
A day passes and he does indeed get back to me. Love it. Will use it. But the last line is kind of strange. I thank him for his time, and promise to move heaven and earth to fix the offending line.
So I emailed my toughest critics, asking them for guidance and prayers. After receiving their comments and blessings, I worked and reread and reworked and pondered etc... the entire essay until I had what I wanted and sent it off.
As I went to bed I started to question some of my changes. When I woke up this morning. I knew the essay wasn't its best. So I re-edited it again and emailed it off with my sincerest apologies for cutting my writers teeth on his newspaper.
So if this editor has a heart filled with patience and a sense of humor, maybe he'll cut me some slack, and I won't die today. Maybe he'll see the sending and then the resending 6 hours later as food for a new sitcom about writers, and publish me out of guilt for stealing an excerpt of my suburban life. It could be worth millions.
Stay tuned. I know I'm on the edge of my seat.