A story of mine that was accepted in 2012 was finally published this past week. This is my first fiction sale, so obviously this is a pretty big deal for me.
But sure, the amount of time between acceptance and publication has definitely smoothed out my excitement. If I’m even a tiny bit honest about it, I definitely thought I would sell another story (or more!) over the last three years.
I feel like it might sound like I’m making a back-handed comment about the time it took, and that I’m somehow unhappy with how long it took — not at all. I have no idea what it takes to publish short fiction. It seems like the kind of thing that (maybe) happens all the time, to writers. I really don’t know. I am delighted that someone wanted my story at all.
I made up something, wrote it down, sent it to some people, and one of those people decided to buy it from me so they could sell it to other people. That couldn’t be more amazing to me. Who knows to what extent, or why, the story moved this editor, but I’m so proud that it happened at all.
That’s likely why I believed I would sell something else since that acceptance — because I then believed my writing had the potential to be purchased. Because of this publisher. And for that, I will always be very grateful.