Yesterday, I wrote about the varied process I take in writing a story. Today, dealing with it going “out there”.
There’s really just one thing you need to do, although it can be tough as hell. Let it go. Don’t forget about it, but let it go.
Here’s where I’m coming from. I’ve been working on that little story for awhile now, took a couple of weeks to let the idea bubble in my brain for a bit, wrote down some bits and pieces and then finally put it together into something cogent and hopefully enjoyable to read. Then the tweaking began.
Does this word fit? Am I clear enough in this transition? Am I using these words too often? Am I being specific enough? How is the style of the work and can I adjust it here or there? So many questions that I can ask and honestly, given the time I’d find more and more for the rest of eternity. Things like this can happen in any discipline or love; a beloved car can be worked on and restored until you are too old to enjoy it, you can practice a piece of music to get it “perfect” but what does it mean if it’s not performed for anyone, even yourself.
After softball last night, I fired up my laptop again and stared at the story, read it through again, hoping that I didn’t put in a typo or have an error in my grammar, wishing that the transitions that seemed a touch clunky to me sounded better when I revisited it, all of these things happening at close to midnight last night.
I asked Melanie just before she went to bed on whether the ending seemed too sudden to her and if I should have a better build up to it. And through her tiredness and with a touch of exasperation, she said it was fine. That’s it, those three words–it was fine. And over the next two hours, I balked, studied the story again, read through it again, checked the spelling again, and worried about the ending…one more time. I was dead tired last night and should’ve gone to bed as soon as my daughter was down for sleep, but I knew that until I resolved this, I would have problems. At 1:15 A.M., I put the story into an email, put on my name and word count, then sent it off. It was done and there was nothing more that could be done. I had released it to its fate.
If I had put it off until today, I’m not sure it would have gotten sent at all. I would have kept fiddling with the damn thing until the deadline had passed and then all my work would be for naught. At least now they have my story and can decide if it makes the cut for the published chapbook they’re putting together. I’m a little proud of the story. I’m sure it’s up against some very good competition from some very talented writers and I hope that it makes the cut. If not, I hope it makes someone laugh or smile, that it entertains whomever gets to read it on the deciding jury. Unfortunately, I don’t think I’ll ever know if the person who reads it enjoyed it unless it gets published, but I’m okay with it.
I’ve let it go and people will either like it or not. There’s nothing more I should do with it because what it needs most right now is to stand on its own.
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