Today I did something I haven’t done in awhile. I submitted my writing for publication.
It’s another thing that I’ve put on hold for so long because of my writing name worries. I was in utter paralysis about my work because of it. I still submitted worked occasionally (like, once or twice a year), some under Emilia Jordan, some under my real name, and worried how it would complicate things if anything ever got accepted under either name.
But I’m ready to move forward again. Over the last couple of months, I did deep revisions on two of my personal essays, “Reasonable Doubt” and “Distant Light.” These are the two essays that felt the closest to publishable, and though I’d put off revising them for awhile, sometimes years, because it felt so daunting, I finally undertook revising both of them (thanks quarantine?) and got both to a place where I felt they were ready to be sent out.
“It’s sad, yeah.” I said. “And then, just before graduation, Stacy had to go and run away from home. I don’t understand, she was going to be graduating seventh in our class. She was going to MIT, she had everything going for her. Have you heard from her at all? Has anyone?”
“No, I don’t think anyone has.” He again stares out the window, and I doubt he can see much of anything through the layer of dust. “Please, I really don’t even want to think about that. None of this makes any sense. How did it all go so wrong?”
This one’s named after a song by one of my faves. We’re almost at the end of this short story from when I was eighteen and thought I knew shit.
Know what I love? When I tried to find an image for this segment, I just wanted the word “MISSING.” So I put that word into google image search and the FIRST thing that popped up was the missing poster for Walter White. Made my day. And that reminds me, I have one of those babies, signed by the man himself, and I should go hang that up or something.