The Long Slog of the Unpublished

I'm not really unpublished, in the technical sense that is. Sure, my writing has appeared in almost a dozen e-zines, online journals of various levels of prestige. And I am proud of them. Without a doubt. There is nothing like getting an acceptance amidst the slush pile or rejection emails. Especially the first one. Your breath catches. Someone, an editor no less!, likes your work and will publish you in their next issue.

It feels a need for a writer, this affirmation. You feel validated that yes, something thinks you can craft a story together when sometimes you want to pull your hair out because the words don't seem to come out right. You're not a failure!

And even though most electronic publications don't pay much, if at all, the five dollars I've made so far (which was donated back to the website) feels good. But there is a hope, a hope that maybe you might see your name in black and white...on paper. Maybe a magazine at first. Or a short story anthology. It's more difficult to get your story in print; you can publish as much as you want in an online publication, but there is only so much blank space in a print issue.

And then maybe a novel? Stories and plot points fill up an ever expanding notepad, many of which will never see the page of a manuscript because the thought of writing anything longer than a couple thousand words feels too daunting. If only I can think a novel into existence. I do have it all in my head after all. No one is more surprised than myself that I have one novel in an early draft. But it will take a while longer before it has a whisper of a prayer of being published. It's too short. The plot needs work. I need to reject my impulse to hate it. And then I need representation, which is possible if someone deems me competent enough to represent. Then the novel gets shopped, and by then I expect I'd probably need several in some completed format for this purpose.

Such is the road. Many start it but never finish. Of the ones that do, their novels don't make any money, so I can forget about quitting my day job.

But it's still there, this long slog, waiting to be undertaken. I just hope I have the right footwear for it.

Persevere!