"Don't throw anything you've written away - cut brutally when you're working, but keep everything because this is the great fact. We are all strangers to ourselves. From palm readers to analysts, we try to find the way to decipher our dreams. Don't try to sort it out - make stones - make clay - a writer is a sculptor who has to make his own rock. I understand now why it's not playwrite but playwright - wright as in wheelwright - boat wright - wright refers to the craft and the craft is the method we use to make a new map to the unconscious" - John Guare, preface to Six Degrees of Separation.
It's finally happened: I'm a published fiction writer. As of earlier this week. Still waiting for the contributor's copies to arrive in the mail (maybe Monday?!), but I've seen the back cover with my name on it online, and it's an unreal feeling. (Brad printed out the front and back cover for his bulletin board at work - what a cutie.) I'm 29 years old, and I've been writing stories since I knew how to write. So this is what it feels like to, well, achieve something you've dreamed for years of achieving. Hmmmm, I like it.
Also awesome is the fact that my story appears in the same issue as a poem from a National Book Award-winning poet - yi-kes!