God has a very keen sense of irony, I think.
I have been busting my butt trying to get something – anything – published, only to either be ignored completely or told (via form letter) that I suck. I accept that this is part of the life of a writer. I knew going into it that I would be rejected more often than the ugliest boy at the school dance (which, sadly, I generally was).
When I received an email from Morpheus Tales, I assumed that it would be another form rejection letter, and I even went so far as to open it, scan it quickly, and was about to file it away with the others when I noticed something odd.
They actually wanted to publish it.
Here, finally, was some kind of validation, some glimmer of hope on the dark and stormy sea of unemployment. It was a tiny beacon of light, a ray of starlight through the clouds, a—
I read on.
They want to publish it in 2011.
And the darkness closes back in again.
Now, please don’t mistake my sarcasm for anything truly bleak. I am overjoyed to be published in a legitimate magazine, through the roof that I can finally put something in my bio like “Will be published in an upcoming issue of Morpheus Tales magazine (UK),” but one does have to laugh at the fact that I will be able to show it to my one-year-old child.
It is a start. It is a beginning. And it will not be the last time that someone picks up my work.