It’s no secret that I’ve always had a dream of being an author. I’ve written since I learned how to arrange letters to make (some) sense. I’ve taken writing classes that I loved (and aced). I had a (stupid) poem published in my high school yearbook. I’ve had numerous blogs and journals. I’ve self-published a poetry book. I’ve attempted Nanowrimo numerous times. I have books and binders and hard drives full of pieces in various stages.
Yet I rarely reach completion of pieces. Or if I do… I do nothing about it.
Until a couple of months ago. Until I fell out of my comfort zone.
So not too many people know this… In fact I think the number of people who do is about 3. But… I actually did submit a piece I’d written to the CBC Literary Short Story contest. The first submission since high school.
I didn’t place. But. Some strangers out there have read what I’ve written. I put myself out there. And I’m ridiculously pleased that I did that.
Maybe it’s time to dust off and try again with something bigger next time.