May 22, 2014
And you'll have the length of the longest short story I've written thus far.
Up until a week ago, I'd never fretted about exceeding a story's maximum word count, only meeting its minimum, and making every word in the word count - count.
But for the very first time, I had to leave some material on the bedroom floor.
Er, cutting room floor.
This was one of those stories that was assiduously arduous to write, and I nearly called it quits on several occasions.
But I typed on. On I typed, and eventually grief gave way to relief as I refined the piece, squealed in delight when I had no more to write, and delivered the womanuscript to the editor.
This is someone I've roomed with, in a manner of speaking, our stories having appeared together in several collections, and I revere her as a writer. This gave me something new to fret about: what if the feeling's not mutual?
Turns out, I got overwrought for naught:
I look forward to reading your story (especially as I have loved your work over the years).
I'll trade fears for cheers any day.
I just hope my story works for her so that I can work with her.
Curiouser and curiouser,