In what can only be described as me having to leave my desk at a brisk pace to go sob in private, I found out this morning that I’ve had a second piece nominated for 2019 Best of The Net. This one is for my essay Proof of Deliverance that was published this past March by The New Southern Fugitives.
I loved writing this piece so much, but I wasn’t sure that anyone would give a damn about it. You could have knocked me over with a feather when The New Southern Fugitives originally accepted it. I remember I was walking down the hallway at work on my way to lunch when I got the acceptance email. I believe my exact words were, “No shit? Really?”
It was only my third piece ever published – and they actually paid me for it! (Getting paid in this business is like finding a unicorn.)
When I got the first nomination a couple months back on my Greg Brady piece, I cried like an infant. Luckily, it was 5am and I was on my couch at home when I got the news. I gave it a gooood ugly-cry with no makeup and no witnesses. The ideal ugly-cry.
I found out about this second one after I was already at work, full face of makeup on, and a room full of witnesses who I couldn’t tell about it. (Nobody at work knows that I write.) Even after spending ten minutes cleaning my face up in the ladies room mirror, I still currently look like this.
And I’m okay with that. I told my coworkers it’s allergies.
I have never cried at receiving a rejection. I receive rejections every day. Hell, I got two just yesterday and I’ll probably get more today. My general reaction is, “Glad I took the shot. Oh well. Keep on truckin.”
I cry at the good news. Because I never, ever, ever thought I’d be here.
Thank you for hanging out here with me, thank you to The New Southern Fugitives for giving this dirtbag a chance, and thank you to anyone who believes in me even when I don’t. 😊