I'm Turning Siamese, Oh Yes, I'm Turning Siamese, I Really Think SoWhy do I procrastinate when it comes to submitting my stories? So weird. Stuffing envelopes and hitting "send" are hard things to do. Very hard. I stare and stare at the manuscript, stare at the subject line, the address, make sure everything's fine, for, like, an hour, then I agonize over the cover letter -- do I sound like a dork? Appear pompous? Scream "I AM A TURD, PLEASE DISREGARD THIS STORY!"? Probably. Then I stare at the send button, the mailbox. For a long time. Abnormally long. Onlookers, I’m sure, assume me epileptic, perhaps insane, or possibly even a street performer portraying a statue of not so elegant proportion. I'm quite sad. How I even managed to acquire a lovely list of publication credits is a grand and divine mystery.
I'm also a virtuous submitter, submitting only one story at a time to one market at a time. So the fact that I have Subphobia *and* an unnatural compulsion to always be a good, honest girl, means that I, at any given time, usually have no more than two or three offerings making the rounds. That not only makes me sad, it makes me stupid. I realize this, but I can't help myself. I also returned a pack of gum I shoplifted from 7-Eleven when I was eight years old -- on my own, with no parental intervention. And I told my mother all about it. She grounded me anyway, which goes to show how stupid and virtuous I can be. But I digress.
I am proud to say, however, that as of today, I now have the most work in circulation than ever before: Five stories, two poems. This is good. And it helps beat the despair of finding another hair growing out of my neck. It's a whisker, really, and though I plucked it away fast as can be, I know that another whisker will soon appear. Well, you know what they say about owners resembling their pets, but damn, why couldn't my eyes turn sky blue instead? My nose shrink down to a perfect little pink nub? My legs grow sleek and my butt silky-soft and full of sinewy muscle? But no, I get the whiskers.