I finally got accepted for publication!
After going through the voting process for the school’s lit journal, I received a preliminary list of those submissions that were voted on; mine was not. However, the editor in chief said that we could suggest two more that weren’t on the list and, of course, I voted for myself again. (I’m starting to feel like a band geek who wants to be prom queen.) What got me the most was not only did no one, out of the eight on the editors panel, aside from myself even cared about the five stories that I wrote, but they chose the hackneyed potty humor or the overly sympathetic memoirs over my work that I’ve always tried to have as actual literature. (I never even wanted to go the chick lit route.)
But the editor in chief, today, said that one of my stories that I had suggested, was on the borderline (whatever that means) so she would put it in this coming edition. I had chosen two stories, on my last vote, that were the ones I was most satisfied and proud of myself after finishing. The one they picked was the one that was a “risk” (as my professor would say) so maybe he had a hand in that selection. Whatever the reason, I’m glad I got my work put to some public use, just as I always wanted it to.
It’s a small victory, but a victory nonetheless. I’m not going to let the fact that it’s a small college’s literary journal that I “work” for, stamp out my enthusiasm from finally having what I want of my future, to come a little closer to my present.
Photo credit: fsse-info