Wow! The New Yorker! Wishing you the best of luck. Whatever the outcome, you should be on top of the world knowing you've written -- and finished -- something great. Finishing alone is a win.
And add to that, no scrapped knees? The greatest joys are the simplest ones.
Okay, so: no emails from anywhere about stories submitted being accepted. No unexpected financial windfall. No stranger offering to bequeath their million dollar house to me because my kids were cute and they said they liked it as we wagoned past.
But also? No skinned knees.
But also? One son fell on his hand and scraped it a little. My daughter fell off her scooter and needed a band-aid for the scrape she got on her hand. (It actually looks infected!)
But also? Dinner was delicious and made early so I could cuddle on the couch with the kids while they watched tv before we ate. And it's nice the laundry is done and floor (kind of) swept.
What did you submit by the way? Essay? Comedy piece? Fingers crossed for you.
I'm 0-4 at McSweeney's and have never pitched the New Yorker. I don't have a deep enough archive yet to publish every week on my Substack and wait for my rejections in parallel. Building up reserves slow and sure, though.
Wow! The New Yorker! Wishing you the best of luck. Whatever the outcome, you should be on top of the world knowing you've written -- and finished -- something great. Finishing alone is a win.
And add to that, no scrapped knees? The greatest joys are the simplest ones.
Okay, so: no emails from anywhere about stories submitted being accepted. No unexpected financial windfall. No stranger offering to bequeath their million dollar house to me because my kids were cute and they said they liked it as we wagoned past.
But also? No skinned knees.
But also? One son fell on his hand and scraped it a little. My daughter fell off her scooter and needed a band-aid for the scrape she got on her hand. (It actually looks infected!)
But also? Dinner was delicious and made early so I could cuddle on the couch with the kids while they watched tv before we ate. And it's nice the laundry is done and floor (kind of) swept.
What did you submit by the way? Essay? Comedy piece? Fingers crossed for you.
I'm 0-4 at McSweeney's and have never pitched the New Yorker. I don't have a deep enough archive yet to publish every week on my Substack and wait for my rejections in parallel. Building up reserves slow and sure, though.
Short fiction for both!
Full of suspense and monsters and penises. You know, my usual.
Good luck!