It’s been awhile since I’ve posted anything. Short synopsis of life– diaper changes. Keeping the baby from killing herself. Doing as little housework as possible without giving older daughter cause to call social services. Same old, same old.
Writing has been squeezing in there. I started a new novel in September, hoping to have it done by the end of the year. That seems pretty unlikely now, as I just hit sixty thousand words, but January should be doable.
Because of the book, I haven’t let myself mess around with short stories. Much. I did revise the twenty four hour story that I did at the WOTF workshop. Got it critiqued a few times, polished up, and then I sent it off to Fantasy Magazine.
And they bought it.
My third sale. Now, this means something more to me than just another check. First of all, at this stage of my pitiful, crawling blob of a career, any success is a major milestone. But three is special because of a somewhat arbitrary goal I set for myself. I wanted to be able to join SFWA (Sci-Fi and Fantasy Writers of America–like a writers union, but it’s not, go read the web site if you really care). To join, you need to have sold one novel or published 3 short stories in professional markets. This makes three, so now, according to their by-laws, I’m considered a pro writer and can join. Well, once I pay the membership fee, of course.
A pro! I should have a t-shirt made, with PRO written across it.
Or might that be misunderstood?