So a friend wrote to say that his small-press editor was looking for literary writers and he sent her a link to my essay and she said she'd like to know what books I have. So I got in touch and gave her the annotated run-down of every manuscript nary to be sold, and, you know what, micyles on bicycles? She and her editorial partner asked to read my book of essays. (Knock me over with a feather, you may.)
Actually, I couldn't be happier; it was a book I thought might never see the light of day!
But yes, yes, yes, yes, of course I remember every other heart-breaking close call over lo these many years! I know it ain't a book until the fat lady (or skinny one, as the case may be) Dewey-Decimals it at the public library.
I have learned that much.
I'm not holding my breath, but I must admit the whole thing has lightened my dark day. Imagine being asked to submit something literary to a living, breathing small press that produces pretty books!
Also, I must admit I have been struggling with the size of writing an entire memoir, and now I can focus for a while on writing a final essay for the collection which expands on the topic of being dissed. Right now that just seems more possible. Hopeful, yes?
1 comment:
Yes! I am so thrilled to read this. I've followed you for so long here that I feel like I'm cheering a good friend to the victorious finish line!
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