First Short Story Submission -- Ever!

Today I submitted a short story to a literary journal for the first time. You'd think I'd passed this particular milestone earlier, but I've always worked on book-length projects. This year I've returned to the short story, which I haven't written since college. I forgot how fun it is.

Now I'm working on a short story collection, tentatively titled Lunch is So Hard. I've got five stories already, all in various stages of completion. They all revolve around the workplace:  toxic coworker; a malevolent vending machine; a temp employee's heaven; a magic planner; and an efficient woman striving to get ahead by being incompetent.

The story I submitted today is not one of them. It's for an online journal that asked for creative work around the theme of "frantic." It's called Genius At Work, and even if it isn't accepted, just finishing the exhausting process of submission is a victory in itself. Yay!

Beginning Again

Yes, I'm starting another effort to write regularly. The three pillars necessary for me write on a regular basis are:
- time
- space
- stamina

This year I thought I had these three factors under control. I had the time, since I'd cut my newsroom hours to two days a week. I had the space, because Fog City Writer and I had rented a studio. And I thought I had the stamina to travel to the studio regularly and sit for hours at my makeshift desk.

But I didn't.

I injured my neck last December getting out of the car and immediately began having headaches. I basically had a severe headache for six months. Everything ground to a halt: work, home, family and, of course, writing. I barely kept my two-day-a-week job. Social events were an act of sheer willpower. My nadir was a lovely April trip to a Sierra Nevada cabin with friends where I spent most of the time flat on my back in bed, or sitting around pretending to have fun. It was awful. We ended up canceling our vacation to Michigan in June, partly because I knew I couldn't do it.

Muscle relaxants and medical treatment helped, but the pain dragged on for months. Only in the last few weeks have I seen any real relief. Motrin helps, wearing a brace helps. I'm starting to write again and today I'm in my studio for the second day in the row. That hasn't happened since June.

The gods apparently wanted me to write today, because Killer Robot Kid's animal camp is only a short drive from the studio. Fine, I thought, I'll come for an hour, since all the long-term parking spots nearby would doubtless be taken. But then I found a 4-hour parking spot. Obviously you can't fight the universe, so here I am, beginning again.

My current project is a short story for Rollick, an online literary magazine. They want creative work on the theme of "frantic." After a frantic week of trying to write about frantic, I finally decided to write a story about a writer frantically trying to write about frantic. It's very meta.

So here I am, in my sunny studio, beginning again.