It’s difficult to say when and why it happens. Call it needing to branch out. Call it an insatiable desire. Call it that weasel of desire.
But again, it is time to submit my writing.
It always comes in flashes like this, and if I expect anything to come of it, I must act promptly. Yesterday, I dashed a story and cover letter off to The Greensboro Review (with helpful permission from someone in the department I know who was willing to extend the deadline for me – no less!). I wanted to submit here because it’s free and your work is automatically considered for the Robert Watson Literary Prize. Two birds with one stone.
Today, I’m sending a poem off to Calyx, a far stretch – I know – but the worst they can so is “No,” and we’ve all heard that before.
My Colorado poet calls with good news that Ghost Road picked up one of his poems from the last flurry of submissions he sent out over the winter – a project of madness and excitement we both embarked on when we promised we’d submit something once a week for two months.
What else? I need to send something else to River Teeth, check out the guidelines for brevity.com, and heck, maybe run something by those kind readers at Narrative who sift through the “Readers Write” piles. Meanwhile, perhaps I’ll give the Main Street Rag editor a nudge (he’s got my stuff, we’ve talked….now?).
What next? I’ll find more before the sun set tomorrow! Onward!