...I suppose it means we have to walk the walk. Translation: It's time again to try and submit -- AGAIN -- something for the Glimmer Train's short fiction contest. The deadline is the 31st... I've submitted so many stories to them in the last couple of years that I'm beginning to doubt that they actually read them! I suppose I haven't much else to lose but my sanity, and that's an arguable possession anyway. I really do love the magazine, I'm just not sure I can actually write a.) short/flash fiction b.) anything really readable for adults. You people with your Tin House contacts and actual adult street cred will have to show me the way. Meantime, I'm trying to make sense of a story I dreamed - something to do with outdoor showers, laundromats, the smell of Tide, and seagulls. Summer camp in my subconscious.
Weird.
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