In Which Everything Goes Slightly Wrong…and slightly right, because it’s a Mad Hatter kind of day.
So here I was again, on the Writers of the Future page, all set to submit my short story for this quarter…
…with two minutes before the quarter ends, checking all the boxes and hoping AutoFill didn’t misspell my name and my formatting is correct because no time to check it now—
And I missed it by one minute.
I don’t even have a good reason. The story was done. Sitting on my computer. I could have submitted it a week ago except I wanted to read it one more time.
So be it. The story would still be entered in the next quarter. That’s the nice thing about WOTF. There’s always a contest to enter, all the time.
The WOTF page was still reading 2nd Quarter, ends March 31. Right. 11:59, March 31.
Pacific Standard Time.
(Cue BookmarkedOne smashing her keyboard over to ask The Google what time it is in Hollywood. The Google says it’s 10:06 p.m., darling.)
I had two whole hours to submit the thing.
Adrenaline spike and everything, and I was two hours early?
I should be annoyed at my procrastination right now, but I’m just too happy to have gotten the story in on time.
Yeah, this probably isn’t going to be the last time I pinch it down to the last second.
But I feel good about this story. It was one of those things that just floated out, beginning to end (minus the 13 hours I spent locked in my room doing the draft edits and infinity-guessing everything). It’s too short, in my opinion, at 5,999 words. Usually I take about 16,000. It’s weird urban fantasy and I thought it was slightly bitter and sarcastic but both my alpha readers have raved about it and laughed (when did I get a sense of humor? That anyone else gets, I mean?).
I think it might be the one to place.
I hope. Maybe. Oh, I really hope.
How am I otherwise?
Passed a violin recital hearing. Somehow. Realized that “Love is finding someone who eats the stuff in trail mix you don’t” fits one of my WIP characters perfectly, but I don’t know if it should. In need of sleep. Eyes a little bloodshot. I broke my pair of five-year-old glasses yesterday and have been squinting vaguely at everything since. It’s been a while since I’ve done that. I’ve forgotten what the world looks like through a blur. How it feels not to have something perched on the bridge of my nose all the time, bruising slightly, hiding the pillow-sized dark circles under my eyes. It wouldn’t be so bad if my eyes didn’t feel like all moisture has fled to another continent.
(If anyone knows where I can get prescription steampunk goggles…I have a comments section. Please tell me. I’d phrase it more prettily, but I already mentioned what time of night it is here.)
I got the notification for 1,000 likes on my blog, so thank you everybody for making me realize I exist and I can write and telling me when you read things you like and just for loving books in general–because books.
Still thinking about doing a formal thank-you post to celebrate, but I’m not sure what to do it on…ideas, anybody? Books you want reviewed? Random stuff about me? Something in between? We’ll see.
And I’m putting Gaston Leroux’s The Phantom of the Opera on my reading list because…that’s a thing. If it’s half as good as I think it’s going to be, well. I won’t be wasting my time.
‘Till then. Goodnight, everybody. May all your books bring you sweet dreams.