The Tracks of Progress

footsteps 02The Sidekicks! release party at Millenicon seems to have been a huge success–the publisher ran out of copies to sell, and had to “borrow” author’s copies to appease the crowd’s appetite for purchasing! Oh how I wish I’d been there!!!

Here in NJ, I’m writing and editing away in seclusion (sigh), coming up for air to look for nearby writing crit groups, which seem to be elusive things that wriggle away from search engines. I’m also dealing with the unhappy fact that W1S1 won’t let me post comments anymore. For some strange reason, it seems to have logged me in under some unknown Blogger account–if you’ll notice, this is a WordPress site–and I can’t for the life of me understand how or why (I’ve never had a Blogger account!). I also don’t know the password of my unknown Blogger account, which is the tricky bit. Sigh again.

Nonetheless, I’ve done pretty well lately, getting back into the swing of writing after the disruption of the move. A couple stories are now complete (in first draft form) and a couple more are nearing the end of editing–which is why I’d really like that crit group about now. A few have been subbed, a few more re-subbed. After they came home crying, I patted their backs, combed their sentences with tender fingers and sent them out to play again. A hopeful smile dusted my lips as I watched them run off into the sunlight, eager once more.

But a couple got shuffled off into the “trunked texts” file. Despite whatever charms those possess (that stuff which made me write them), I see their glaring flaws. Those dear stories no longer hold the allure they once had. I’ve moved on, they haven’t. I don’t despise them; they made me learn and grow as a writer, and I had to go there in order to make it here. But their time in the submission pile is at an end. It’s a sad thing, but also a happy one, for it means I’m improving. Seeing your own works’ flaws–to me, this is the ultimate test of growth. Like so many worthwhile things, it’s bittersweet once you grasp what it really means.

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About M.E. Garber

I'm an itinerant Ohio-born speculative fiction writer now living in north central Florida.
This entry was posted in goals, Magic of the Everyday, Uncategorized, Writing and tagged , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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