I had a rough, panicky morning a few weeks ago, when I woke up anxious that I would never be a very good writer, and that I might be wasting my life. This is unusual for me. My resolve to be a writer is unwaveringly optimistic and not even something I see as an option. It has been the consistent obsession of my life. So I asked the universe for a sign, a publication in particular, to show me it's worth sticking with. I got so frustrated with the universe when weeks went by and only rejections poured in.
Then I randomly went into my spam folder and saw an acceptance letter for my first short story to be published by the Avalon Literary Review.
I'd asked the universe for a sign and it had been given to me, yet the way my inbox was organized kept me from seeing it.
The short story is called "The Jump" and will be in their Winter 2019 print issue. I was so happy I cried, and it was as though a great weight had been lifted off my shoulders, one which I hadn't even realized I'd been carrying.
Afterwards I posted about it, thanking my college fiction professor, and she sent me a private message that was so generous and encouraging I nearly started to cry again! I get three complimentary copies of the issue––one shall go in my permanent collection of all my printed publications (a humble shelf on my bookcase), one I'll keep on hand to bring to events and share with friends, and the third shall be snail mailed to her.