As a life-long pessimist, I like to tell people-who-call-me-on-it that optimists are never pleasantly surprised. It takes a lot of energy to search out that silver lining when the sky is filled with black clouds.
But early yesterday morning, I was pleasantly surprised—so much so that I lived the rest of yesterday in a fog of optimism.
Another of my stories sold and will be published this month.
Meanwhile, if you’re interested, go to The Arcanist for a quick five minute read, published at the end of August.
Last year, I took on the Ray Bradbury challenge to write 52 short stories in a year. I fell a bit short, only writing 32 and most were bad. But I had a handful of not-half-bad stories, and three that seemed good.
One of the things I learned along the way was how to be another person. Never mind that I’m a–well let’s call it ‘senior’–female. I could be an out-of-work 30 year old male, a mean and murderous female school teacher, a male retiree bent on revenge … you get the picture.
Weeding the mermaid garden this morning, I wondered what it would be like to sing songs to destroy men and ships.