This morning, I was pondering what exactly I wanted to do with my novel, The Harvest, once I finished revising it. Asking a beta reader to copy edit 117,000 words is not cool. Would you want that? Hell no. After thinking about what I want to do with the novel, I decided to ask a reputable editor if he would edit and copy edit my work, before I submit it to Pitch Wars or presses or self-publish it after a time. He agreed, which is amazing, and I can work with his rates. I had to convince my husband, though, but he supports my endeavors. I thought about doing a GoFundMe, but we should be OK. Look, I’m underplaying this decision. I am fucking ecstatic and excited to finally be working with a real editor.
I have also been grappling with what to submit to In Case of Emergency Press. What would you consider your best poem or story? The one you would keep in case everything else were destroyed? That is a deep question, but I am having a hard time deciding. They do take previously printed work, but I think my best poem is “Jesucristo Santifícanos” and the short story, I don’t know. They are all so different. Maybe I haven’t written it, yet.
I posed the question on Facebook, and the answers were varied:
One friend said it should spark joy.
Another said to pick the story I’ve reread the most times.
My friend Brett suggested I choose the one with multiple meanings.
All of these are great suggestions. Perhaps the best short story should be the one you would enjoy reading under the worst conditions and that you can continue writing in the sand. Argh. Well, I have my poem down, I think. Stay tuned.
Wait, “The Invitation.” That is the one. I could do better, and maybe, that is why I am having a hard time choosing.
Well, I am punking out. I had a lot of meetings, and it’s time to read and rest.
Write, like the world is ending. #barrioblues