I Was In Shock

As I have just about every morning since I submitted my short story (to the same place I submitted my novel), this morning I checked my email to see if there was any response yet. And there was.
I read the opening paragraph, and it spoke of the many submissions,  how hard a decision it was, and how the difference from those that got in, to those that didn’t, was a matter of only a few percentile (they have a long detailed list which each story is judged against, everything from dialogue to marketability, which gives them a percent at the end.), They mentioned how all were good but only eight could be chosen.

In short, it read like a rejection letter – ”Thanks for submitting, it was a hard choice but we are going to pass this time’.

I wasn’t too shaken up by this, as it wasn’t my first rejection and it won’t be my last, I’m sure. I had only submitted because I hadn’t submitted a short story in a long time and, as I had just submitted my novel to them, thought I would give it a shot. I even wondered if the story would fit well enough with the theme of the anthology.

Below the opening paragraph was ‘a special thanks to the winners and a list of names which I allowed my eyes to slid over, wondering how the email would close. As my eyes slid past – ready to move on – a small part of my brain yelled out “STOP!” I stopped and wondered why this had happened. The small part of my brain said ‘ Go back, read those names again for a second’. Humouring my brain, I decided to re-read the list. In shock, I found out why it had yelled STOP.

There, a few names down, was mine.  I looked at it. I read the whole thing again to be sure that the list of names was in fact the winners and not just a special note to semi- finalist or something.

It was the list of winners. It was my name. I stared in shock. Then I tittered. Then I gasped ‘ I – got – in?’ Then I read it all again, sure I was wrong.

I got in!

The reason this is so very exciting for me is because this will be the first time that the Protagonist that I have been writing short stories about, and two and a half novels about, will see print.
Also, now, I have a small amount of increased hope for my novel that I submitted to them. If they liked the short story, maybe – just maybe – they will like the novel with the same character.Now matter how the novel goes, it will be wonderful to see this character in print. Today – I smile… and it feels good.

I would, at this point, be remiss if I didn’t thank two people who are patient, wise, and have given so much of their time to allow me to have submitted a story worthy of publishing (even if it is ‘just’ a short) – so thank you to my editor, Sheila, and my beta-reader, Heather. You are both blessing from the muses.

How Many Shoes Are There!

Yesterday, my wife got in the truck, with our dog, all prepared to go visit her mother. She started the truck but then immediately shut it down. Concerned, confused, and curious, I went out ask what was wrong.

‘ A light came on that said – Check Fuel Filter ‘

I sighed but wasn’t too worried as that will happen if there is too much water  in the fuel filter. I popped the hood, turned the drain on the filter and allowed a bit to drain out, but suspected it was nothing but diesel – a quick sniff confirmed that I was right. I hopped in the truck, turned her over and sure enough the warning light came on for me too.

Heart drop – stomach clench – fists ball – head throbs

Something is wrong – AGAIN.

I tested the power at the relay and found everything was reading as it should, key on, key off, then tested to make sure power was getting to the new electric pump I had installed (and successfully driven with) Power was getting to it but the pump wasn’t pumping. So I had a new pump that was now defunct.

I should state that it is under warranty – they do have it in stock – and it didn’t go until I was home from visiting my folks ( hour and a half away).

That being stated … what I said was, “FUCK THIS NOISE!!”

Yes, to say I was pissed, depressed, frustrated, and fed up would be getting the gist of the emotions I was experiencing.

I ignored it – well I did nothing about it. I can’t say I ignored it because I went and grabbed a beer and drank it and the second a bit too fast. I didn’t really do anything else, but sit and brood. Not the best answer or response, I know but I just keep getting kicked about and I really would like to stop working on the truck for – well for months, if not years. Today I will be taking out the pump – maybe even getting the replacement – and I am seriously thinking about trying to wire it up different and re-attaching the mechanical pump. I’m not hundred percent sure it is working well enough to run on but I could find out relativly easily. I could then use the electric only for starting and emergencies … I just want it to be fixed.
I have so many other projects I would like to get working on, some even rely on me having a sure fire working truck, but I can’t if I am working on the truck or pissed off about it not working that I find myself unable to give a fuck about the rest of the the things.

Finally all this being kicked about is just not being good for my self esteem – every time the truck doesn’t work – every day it sits, unable to drive, in the drive way – every wasted day – is a hit to my self worth. If it ain’t working it’s because I haven’t made it work. And thus it has got to the point now that when it is running I don’t even want to hear people say – oh good for you you got it running – because to me all that means is I should watch for that other shoe.

I have no idea how many gods are looking down on my but it must be a multitude because so far there has been a lot of shoes dropped.

Just to Mess Things Up

Here I am posting again the very next day – it’s like I’m some kind of blogger or something. What am 5 posting about? I thought I should inform, after yesterday’s post, that I drove my truck into the city – about an hour and a half – with no issues. (knock on wood). I also had a lovely visit with my family, without whom I wouldn’t have had the cash means to fix the truck no matter how much I might have been motivated to do it myself. It is small thing like this that help get me out of the doldrums.
I know my life isn’t easy – I know I often wish for so much more – but the truth is I need very little to be happy. .. unfortunately, sometimes I don’t even get that ‘little‘.
But often I do.

I hope you all get a little happy today

Stuck In the Mud

IT has been a while since I posted on here. Partly that is because nothing had really changed in my life – the truck was broken, the garden was mostly weeds, and my writing simply wasn’t happening.
So what has changed? Well the truck is running well enough to have my wife take it down the road and get it stuck in the mud.

That about sums it up.
I admit I have been a bit, shall we say, burdened? Maybe down? Depressed and despairing even?A case could be made for that truth. I am not receiving much positive in my life right now. Getting the truck running wasn’t even a positive for me because it had A) taken so long and B) every time I got it fixed… there was a ‘next stage’ that had to be tackled. Fixed just became ‘waiting for the next shoe to drop’.

Was this really a good reason to not post – not really as one of the reasons I have this blog it to share my mental state not shy from it. As any one with mental health issues can verify however, doing things like bothering to post on your blog becomes a pointless chore that takes back bench to trying to ignore your own life. Which of course becomes a cycle of not blogging when you should about what you should because you are going through what you should be blogging about.

I’m not out of the cycle. I just happened to to find enough juice to push this bitch session out into the world. but other than that I still find myself … well – stuck in the mud.

So That’s Why We kept That Thing!

So today I checked out the next test of the trucks ability to run – I was really hoping that the part would fail the test and I could simply buy a new one and be back on the road – no such luck. This is one of those times when finding that a thing IS working is Bad news – alas.

Having done that I moved on to the other current project – the water pump. While trying to unscrew a component for the what should have been easy fix something in the unit cracked. It turns out that it was a rod holding a piston to the turning mechanism. Well, I can tell you I wasn’t impressed. I couldn’t even get the ‘tower’ of the pump off to get to the broken bit. I had no clue what I could do.

When we first moved in to this place oh so many years ago now, the pump broke in a way that wasn’t fixable. Luckily my father-in-law had connections and found a guy who still had one who, because country life is awesome in that way, simple gave it to us. So I took off the old pump and put on the ‘new’ pump (new being a strange word to use for something that was designed and implemented about the same time electricity arrived to the property). We kept the old pump – stored it on the front porch and have been piling junk around and on it for a decade now.

So when this pump was broken I wondered if the other one could be of any use, but it had been so long since I had removed it I couldn’t, for the life of me, remember WHY we had taken it off. So today I studied the ‘old’ one and saw the damage, then I went out and studied the current one – hope dared to blossom.

I returned to the porch and studied the old pump once again. I went out to the pump house and with new knowledge managed to disassemble the current pump. Now the game is far from over, but I have got to a new level. There are clear indicators that I can take the broken part off the current pump and attach it to the unbroken piece from the old pump. I may be actually able to get this thing running again.

I know – eventually I will have to accept the fact that it is the 21 century and get a submersible one but if I can get this one running in a day or so than I can pretend all is well and fine – for a few months anyway.

And so, with hope in my blood, I dream of finally getting that bath I started to draw oh so many days ago.