Today I finished a new short story and sent it off as an entry in a very prestigious and lucrative short story competition.
There's something very satisfying about birthing a new story, nurturing it with rewrites, combing its hair, straightening its tie, spit-shining its shoes and sending it out in the world to make its own way.
If you see my story, stop and say hello, engage with it and give it a hug of encouragement. Remember, I wrote it for you, whoever you are.
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Oh no I wouldn't dare hug it when it looks so smart - I might rumple something ... dirty those shoes! I know what you mean, though, Andrew. Tidying up that story or poem to send is like sending a child out the door in its school uniform. It's not perfect but in its own way it is perfect - and the best you can do. The satisfaction is immense. I've just remembered, though, that my daughter has forgotten her lunch. I hope your story hasn't forgotten its lunch too ...
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