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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.