I should have guessed that some kind of cerebral embolism was going to hit me the minute I realized my writing would be up for active evaluation.
“Be yourself,” my wife says.
“That’s the part I’m afraid they’ll hate,” I say.
Nonetheless, I have plundered through a traumatic, off-season Iditarod and written a piece. I am sincerely hoping they think I’m a witty, rhetorical Anakin Skywalker and call it a day.
Oh yeah, I toned down the pyrotechnics a bit. I might be a literary Captain Ahab, but for now, I’ll hide in the pathos of his “pre-whale” nautical pursuits.
Just over a thousand words–and I’m in a fetal position in sackcloth and ashes. Oh, and I’m not beyond some reflexive oedipal thumb sucking if it calms me down.
Congrats! Look forward to hearing the next stage of this story.
And I promise, I’m going to finish your book! I’ve been SLAMMED!
No worries! I look forward to hearing your thoughts when you do. Cheers!