“…Love the Greek mythos, and how the author weaved the clash of the sexes without it coming off as man-hating. And an excellent ending to wrap things up.”

*purr*

I’d like to add that the protagonist in this story is an old, blind grandma who kicks ass because of her choices and not, say, a tall redhead in chainmail bikini armor wielding a big phallic sword.

…and it’s nice to NOT be called a ‘feminazi’ for a change… *sigh*

Also, today I flashed, after a long time, over at Liberty Hall. I had forgotten how much fun flashing is, especially when the Muse comes up with something unexpected. (While the Mews are totally predictable and *whinewhimpercomplain* the entire time I’m trying to write). And I really like the little story I produced. It’s highly unlikely it will remain at flash length (very few stories of mine do), but I like it anyway.

On the other hand, writing has been extremely frustrating in the last year. For starters, I haven’t sold anything in the last six months or so. This is, for the most part, due to the fact that I haven’t been writing many stories up to a submittable stage. And then, most of what I have out is still with the editors, who take forever to get back to me.

Only adding to my frustration is the fact that, of all the stories I sold last year, only two have seen print. The others are still waiting publication. For some, like ASIM and the Quiet Shelter There anthology, I knew that they wouldn’t be out until Summer 2012. Others, like Warrior Wisewoman #4, have encountered financial issues. Others, I have no idea where they’re at.

It’s not a money issue for me. Well, at least not *just* a money issue. I just feel that the initial joy of getting that acceptance letter got flushed down the drain by circumstances beyond my control.

I’m guessing that the best cure for this is to write more. Send more stories out. Balance the scales over these “unfortunate” stories. But there are times when this is getting very, very hard.

a. You saved me from the gutter and certain death! I love you, Mommy!

b. You saved me from the gutter and certain death! Now it’s your DUTY to pet and cuddle me and give me noms and pet me again, until the End of Days! (Yours, not mine. I have nine lives. NEENER, NEENER.)

…yeah, I’m pretty sure it’s #b.

*headdesk*

Anyway, I’ll give another go to this Write 1 Sub 1 thing. I tried it last year, and then Life happened, which included computer woes, sick cats, health issues and ongoing financial troubles. On the other hand, a large part of 2011 consists of empty days: I cannot recall what I did during those times, especially from February to May. But I do recall how every one of my stories came to be, even though it was painful at times: I had to endure heat without a/c, my back and shoulders hurt, I came out of my study (or back from my coffee shop) to find kitteh chaos but, in the end, I had my stories.

I don’t want any more empty days.

So I’ll give that W1S1 thing another go. Pretending, of course, that Week One did not exist.

Week 2:

Write 1: Expanded a Liberty Hall Flash from 1000 words to 4000. Historical Dark Fantasy, based on a mix of Aegean myths and inspired from the works of Greek poet Nikos Kavadias. It was a challenge to write: First Person POV, present tense, and a male POV at that. The setting was also a challenge: early 16^th century Barbary Coast. I had to research a gazillion little things for every other line: food, spices, currency, clothes, expressions, evil eye traditions, naval terminology (shoot me now), and many more. But I loved the outcome.

Sub 1: The above-mentioned story. But I won’t say where. All this research about the Evil Eye rubbed off some superstition on me. I fear that if I say more, I’ll jinx it.

Anyway, off to work on my Week 3 assignment. And I hope I’ll be able to keep it up.

Until, that is, Diablo 3 comes out. Oh, hello there, Black Hole of my days… :/

And, last night, my Muse  (Mews) came up with this:

On a skillet hot and greasy, cooking eggs just over-easy,
Adding bacon and sausage, breakfast for my sweet Lenore,
By my stove I’m almost napping, suddenly there was a tapping,
Clawing, scratching, mewing, rapping, rapping on my kitchen door.
Cats and kittens came a-lolling, rolling on my kitchen floor.
Tails erect and claws expanding, lolcats bacon demanding:
“Can haz bacon! Fry sum moar!”

(With my sincere (not) apologies to Mr. Poe. The cats made me do it).

1. I now am an Associate Member of SFWA. *purr*

2. I can haz Interview in a friend’s blog.  *moar purr*

And I have three deadlines in June, including WOTF. I have no story for them. Unless something fitting comes back, I might have to sit this quarter out. As for the other two, one story is researched and outlined save for a few details, and the other has a 1000-word opening that I may or may not keep.

On top of that, RBE is having their annual fundraising challenge (details here, check it out!) with a cool theme and awesome art, and I’ve already been bitten by a plot-kitten for that one. At least the deadline for them is far in the future, alongside next quarter’s WOTF, so I have time for this. I hope.

Oh well. At least I flashed (sort of) this week over at Liberty Hall. I’ve given up hope that my stories will remain at flash length.

 - Refreshing the Duotrope “Recent Responses” page every fifteen seconds won’t get the editors to get back to you any faster. No, really, it won’t.

 - More cover letters should be written in Standard Lolcat. “O Hai. U can haz sabmishun. I can haz contrakt nao?”

 - If you’re not already owned by one, get a cat (or more). Then you can blame your typos on them. Like misspelling your own name. And especially when you misspell the editor’s name.

 - When all else fails, remember that most good editors are cat-owned. Have your cats contact them through mew.com, provide the appropriate brib-, um, offerings of catnip and tuna, and sit back and relax while the editing kittens purr hypnotic suggestion into their humans’ brains.

   This works with d*g-owned editors too, but you’ll have to contact the Paw Hammer branch of Interpurr for them.

 Back to my poor, neglected story now. Ooh, look, catnip!

This morning, however, I woke up to good news: a new spec-fic magazine, Arcane, has accepted a story very dear to my heart.

The setting: Samothrace, an island of the Aegean Sea imbued with ancient lore, during the Byzantine period–the Macedonian Dynasty. Ancient deities, the power of the Little Things and an old, blind woman, comfortable in the privileged life of the rich and noble, rediscovers the meaning of Duty and Sacrifice. If all goes well, it will appear in the second issue of Arcane.

I’ll go squee moar nao.