I’ve submitted two works in hopes of publication. Last Winter Red was accepted, and will be published in December. Yay! But what was the other one?
The first writing I ever submitted was early this year. It was a 2,000 word short-story for a magazine.
This magazine is very well-respected, and takes submissions until the end of January. They choose the best out of the submissions to publish at different times during the year.
Their requirements were very clear. It needed to be about a dog, the dog could not talk, and it had to be polished and ready for publication.
Hello, let me introduce myself.
I am an idiot
Well, heck, I had a story about a dog! I ran it through some betas, worked it until I wanted to spit, and submitted it.
I never heard back from them. Not a squeak. And I can’t even say they didn’t get it, because I have a tracking number. They got it.
I guess it’s okay that they didn’t respond. They said they would only notify those who were chosen.
Anyway… I stewed over it for a while. Why wasn’t mine good enough?
I read the magazine, and my story beginning might not have been a fit for their readers, but the ending sure was. A story is a journey, right? I just figured my beginning may have been the problem, and moved on.
A few months ago, my writers group announced that they would be publishing an anthology, and asked all members to consider submitting. I thought about this 2,000 word story. The chances that I would send it out to any other magazine were slim.
Soo….. I opened up my final submitted version, and gave it a read for the first time in four months.
My eyes widened after reading the second line. No! It can’t be! I scanned back to the beginning, and started over.
Yes. It can be. Right there … In the second stinking line.
How the heck many times did I proofread this? How many betas did I go through? How much time expended?
A Typo. Not just a typo. A BIG BLARING TYPO! So much for “Polished and ready for publication”.
Hello, let me introduce myself. I am an idiot. They probably never even read past the second line.
Yep, it’s me. I am an idiot. Feel free to smack me. Ugh!