After various administrative trials and tribulations, I gave my first class on Wednesday. 24 out of 25 unsuspecting students filed into a very small room on the fifth floor of the Leslie Building, and gave me expectant looks.
On 12 January, I finished my novella and submitted it. Cut that one dangerously fine. Despite the longer window for this call, I still only turned it in about three hours before the cut-off. I don’t know, that seems to be my modus operandi. I really struggled with this story. But best believe I made 1000% sure it was sent in the correct format. Never. Again.
It was somewhere between a social experiment and an existential crisis.
I’ve flirted with the idea of dating applications for a while, seeing as I am wholly terrible at, you know, flirting. But the idea of marketing myself like self-published ebook always made me cringe away from downloading Tinder.
I got a pro-market acceptance!
My posting has been *coughs* entirely lax in the past few months, so I thought a general update might absolve me.
So, since January, I have gone from the entirely manageable position of working for one fiction publication (sub-Q), to the somewhat alarming situation of working for four. In short: Continue reading
They rejected me. Twice.
Once on Monday, once yesterday (owing to my resubmission avec correct file format). And then, joy of joys, I received a third rejection first thing this morning from a different publication.