The Joy of Text
One of the followers of my Twitter account, a chap by the name of Phil Hickes, just made an excellent post this evening.
Excellent news for Hickesy, I’m sure, and one that led me to recall the first time I had a story accepted for publication.
You know something, Hicksey? I’ve got a secret for you and it’s a damned big one, so listen up…
…that high you’re undoubtedly feeling right now – it doesn’t get any less intense, no matter how many times it happens.
If anything, the feeling gets stronger – it certainly gets more layered – as each subsequent acceptance comes along. Each step along your career as a writer is founded on moments like these and, for me at least, it’s a drug.
I’ve been writing semi-seriously since January 2009. I say semi-seriously, because I’ve still got my day job in a local law firm to attend to as well as being a full-time dad and husband. I have a dream™ and that is to become a full-time, professional author, to be able to hand in my notice knowing that the dark whisperings in my head will be sufficient to support myself and my family.
My first story was published online in January 2009, in the now-defunct e-zine Micro 100, edited by Dustin LaValley, who is a fine author in his own right. The buzz I got when I first received that acceptance e-mail was indescribable, which is particularly galling for a guy who intends to describe things for a living. However, that paled when compared to the adrenaline rush when I went onto the Micro 100 site and saw my story made available for all to see, with my name printed beneath it.
A month later, my second story was accepted and published online, in the next issue of Micro 100. This time, the rush was slightly different; this time I knew that my first story wasn’t just a fluke. When the next month’s issue rolled around and included my third story, a couple of the comments said that my story was their favourite in the issue, which was another first for me and further validation of my career path. It meant that not only could I string a couple of sentences together, but that I could do so in such a way that there were people out there who actually enjoyed reading it!
In October 2009, I hit two milestones at once. I entered my story A Letter from the Trenches into the MicroHorror Halloween competition for that year and, not only it get published on a different site, but it was also one of six winners for that competition. The webmaster, Nathan Rosen, and no less a horror icon than Conrad Brooks presented the results in a wonderful video ceremony that nearly blew my mind.
Every time another editor accepted one of my stories to be posted online, be it Lori Titus at Flashes in the Dark or Angel Zapata at 5×5 Fiction, that feeling of euphoria came flooding back in a rush, slightly different from the first time, but also more enjoyable.
In 2010, I submitted one of my stories to a print anthology, Daily Bites of Flesh 2011, published by Pill Hill Press and that acceptance trumped all that had gone before. When the anthology had been released and I got my hands on a copy, it was a thing of wonder to me to hold that tome in my hands and flick through to the page that bore my work.
This year, I had an e-mail from Nelson Education in Canada, asking to include one of my stories in their Literacy books for students which was a particular thrill. It was the first time somebody had actively sought out my work and it was also the first time I was paid for my work – I was above the minimum rates advised by the Horror Writers Association and the Society of Authors, so I guess that technically makes me a professional writer.
In September, I hit another first, one of my stories was published in a print magazine. I was also accepted for a bunch of other print anthologies that are due out before the end of the year and each acceptance e-mail or contract that came through felt just as good as that first one nearly three years ago.
I’ve still got a way to go to achieve my dream – my first solo anthology, my first novel, my first book deal, my first film, radio and television adaptations (Hell, a man can wish, can’t he?), but I rest easy every night knowing that those things, when they come, will taste every bit as sweet as that very first acceptance e-mail.
Congratulations, Hickesy. You are doubtless feeling over the moon at this moment. Just know that it gets even better than this.
Best of luck.
