Wednesday, November 16, 2011

So Close I Can Almost Taste It

I've had another of those rejections.

The ones where you're so close, it's within your grasp. Someone has seen you, acknowledged you, shown that you're on the right track.

The rejection is from a venue I highly respect, would be thoroughly honoured to be in, and the feedback  contained words like "brilliant" and "fascinating".

Most heartening of all was that someone finally got the story. I'm not someone who is going to pander to a reader. I'm not going to make a story an easy read or insult their intelligence. I want my reader to chew on my words, find their own interpretation in them, but ultimately dig to find what I have to say.

One day I may write that fun fantasy romp or space opera - it may even be happening now, I'm not sure where the Katewin stories may take me. But at this point I'm exploring form and art and technique, saying weird and mighty and wonderful things to find what sticks, what sounds like me.

Right now the art is calling me, like a siren. Somebody recently told me Don't Give Up. And I promise, I won't. Because "I've seen a hint of  it, this happiness this bliss, just knowing it exists, I know I must try, I've caught a glimpse of it, one moment just one kiss, from the corner of my eye..."

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