My Big Day

Over the weekend, I heard a friend of mine who also applied for the Squaw Valley Writer's Conference received an email she was on the wait list for acceptance.  I was very happy for her and sad for me.  Surely it meant that the acceptances were already out if wait list people received notification.  It only made sense. Notify acceptances, contact wait list folks, then time the turn downs to arrive on the deadline.  I received my turn down on the deadline last time.  Clearly, I'd make the long walk to the mail box today and find the plain cream colored envelop with the very nice letter telling me 'not this year'.  

Frankly, I was good with getting turned down.  Disappointed and realistic all at the same time.  I know my book needs work and I've been so busy with kid things that I haven't had time to write.  An entire week away from the family is a lot.  The Dad can go it alone for an entire week, but I worry about things like the kids getting bathed, brushing of hair, vegetables being consumed.  Not getting accepted also meant I'll be around for the first week of dance AND I'll get to go to the travel group reunion.  Really, the land of rejection is a place any writer knows well and sometimes it's a happy place.  The land of rejection is also a crappy place, but hey, I've visited it before I can rationalize it better.

The day dawned, I took Pete (our dog) out for his walk, and came in to check my email.  A note greeted me with the following topic:  "WRITERS WORKSHOP FICTION ACCEPTANCE". 

I read it at least seven times before I realized it wasn't junk email trying to sell me cut-rate prescription drugs.  Then I couldn't focus on any word but "ACCEPTANCE".  I freaking got in.  Can you believe it?  Oh man, the chapter I sent really was a decent chapter of fiction.  I wrote one damn, decent chapter.  Chalk one up for the mom writers of the world.

Now, I'm alternating between delight and terror.  Real writers go to this workshop.  I'm not a REAL writer.  Sure, I write.  I love to write.  I drag myself from bed at 4am without the benefit of caffeine and sit in front of a lap top to pound out stories about people I created in circumstances of my imagination.  But, me...the person who didn't decide to give the craft of writing a whirl until I was almost 40 in a conference like this?  Oy vey.  I can't believe it.  What am I going to do when they figure out I don't have another decent chapter?

Now, my fingers are crossed for my friend.  She's such a great writer.  I'm so hoping there's a cancellation and she gets accepted.  She deserves it and it'll be a lot more fun if she's there.  I've also got to get to bed.  My day will start early tomorrow.