I'm on my way to church. I've just tossed the scalloped potatoes I made last night heating in the oven. It will seve as the starch component of my family's holiday meal. I'm going to meet my parents and my best friend since I was five and we're going to celebrate with ham and vegan tacos. Too bad we're not dyeing hard-boiled eggs or hunting for plastic ones. I miss those old rituals.
Some good news. One of my flashfiction short stories got accepted by Daily Science Ficton, an e-magazine that pays for submissions. They have asked me to make some revisions before it's published, including changing from a second person point of view to a third person pov. I'm not sure how that will work.
You'd think the prospect of actually being paid for my writing would make me ecstatic. Actually, when I got the letter, I blanked. I think I was sort of in shock. Then a strange sense of panic began to well up in me. What if I messed up the edits or made a mistake? What if they changed their minds and rejected me after all? I don't think I'll be secure until I sign the contract and see the published story with my own eyes. 'Til then, I'm holding my breath.
Let's see, what else? My NaNoWriMo suffered and I'm sadly only at 45,000 words. I blame the massively long Literary Orange blog for that. 9,000 words. 23 pages. It devoured my week. I subbed once at Brea Canyon High School. I read a couple of Dorethea Simpson mysteries. I signed up for Pubslush and Wattpad. My week had its ups and downs, but I'm slowly accomplishing stuff... which is better than not accomplishing it at all.