About seven years ago, I submitted an essay to an anthology. The editor accepted it! My first acceptance! I told everyone. When I checked the publications website, my essay wasn’t there. I sent the editor and email, and she apologize profusely. The postings were still in progress. Of course it would be there. She assured me.
No, it wasn’t. I wrote again.
It was never in the anthology and I never heard back.
“When is your essay coming out?” friends asked.
“Oh, well, I’m not sure that is really going to work out,” I said, and changed the subject.
So in the middle of January of this year, I received an acceptance of a story. Now, my first acceptance! The email said, “…this offer is firm…I will send a contract in one or two weeks…” I told everyone, of course. You, probably, if you were reading that day.
One week. Two weeks. Three weeks. Four.
I wrote back something along the lines of I’m very excited about the chance to be in —, and you mentioned possibly using some of my art. I was wondering what images in particular you had in mind and–if you’re still interested–what format I should send them to in. Also, I wanted to make sure that any other emails you may have sent weren’t accidently shunted over to my spam filter and that you weren’t waiting for a response from me…” Something like that.
No reply yet.
I can’t help but wonder something has gone wrong. Again, friends may say, “Hey! When is your story coming out? I can’t wait to read it!”
Sigh. Probably it is too soon to worry. These things take time.
But I’m a writer…
my life is filled with words…
and the lack of words…
is filled with panic.
When would you worry and feel like a liar?