I've had an acceptance for something. But can't share it. In fact, I'm not even sure when I'll be able to share it or even if it's wrong to put "something", because I'm certain you'll know what I mean, Bertha.
But I want to share this vague something so that I can also share a rejection- from Cleis, for their vamp antho. It's the circle of life. The wheel of fortune. One up, one down. Etc. I feel much better about it than I probably should, however, because although it could have been a form reject given to everyone, it seemed personal and there was lots of nice "you made it to the final round of cuts" type talk. Plus I had kind of started to think that my story was so rubbish, it didn't even warrant a response. I know someone else got a reject for it a while back, and my stupid brain was all: oh noooooesss!1!11 Not even good enough for an email to say you're not good enough!
So it was a relief to hear.
I've also submitted something, very stupidly, to Best Women's Erotica. Stupidly because it's being edited by Violet Blue, who is ten types of awesome and intimidates me with her sexy awesomeness, stupid because I think I may not have made the deadline, considering I emailed it at about 1pm on the 30th, stupid because I do not know if I formatted the sucker right, stupid because it's BEST Women's Erotica, for God's sake, and finally stupid because after I'd written the story and quite liked it, I realised that it's sort of about infidelity, which is one of the themes that has to be exceptional to make it in. So I've basically got no chance, but I'm proud of myself for getting back up on my feet after a couple of knocks and going for a big gun like that.
Next up: I want to write something for Samhain's Space Opera call, and maybe something for Total-E-Bound's shapeshifter call. I want to get my proposals off to Adam...I'm just crossing my fingers that he's still interested. For some reason I've got this terrible sinking feeling that I can't shake, like I've done something wrong or am about to do something wrong or this is basically it for my career. I keep seeing one magpie. I f*cking hate magpies.
Keep your fingers crossed for me, Bertha.