The Other-Girl

It’s been about three months now since I started a short story that I am very proud of, entitled “The Other-Girl”.

I have always enjoyed writing short stories. When I think of a kernel of an idea that I want to see from start to finish really quickly, it is like crack in this form. Within a few hours I have a story, rather than the grueling months—or years—it takes to write a novel’s first draft. Of course there is the editing phase, which can take a hell of a long time, but there is nothing like the celebration of a first draft.

“The Other-Girl” is a short I’ve worked on longer than all of the others. The reasoning being is I took a different approach this time. I would draft as much as I can and get it into the best shape I can at that moment. Then, I would send it off to workshop.

Being a socially awkward person, I knew I could only see this through by joining a digital workshop. Ever since coming across Critique Circle my writing has changed. Other writers on the site have such a keen eye for different things that are important for a writer who can easily get lost in their own piece.

Now that I have workshopped it to an inch of its life, I have submitted it to a magazine for possible publication. At eighteen, I would’ve been sweating profusely at this moment. I would’ve been positive that they’d hate it and were now huddled together around a printout of my story and taking a nice laugh at it. Now that I am in my thirties, I think they are obviously doing the same thing but I am probably laughing along with them. It’s important to get my first rejection, is the way I look at it. Even if this story is not right for them at the moment it could be at another point in time. That, or it could do better at another magazine. Or the story isn’t ready.

All this being said, we are living through such dark times that we need to find any way to celebrate. At the moment, that is what I am doing. I wrote something that I am proud of and shared it, allowed others to critique it. The story is better for it. I hope to see it in print one day but if not, maybe my next one will be. Or ten stories for now. Until then I’ll just eat a slice of cake each day and blow on those little whistles with the tassels on the end.