Our Echo
Title, story type, location, year, person or writer
 
Add a Post
View Posts
Popular Posts
Hall of Fame
Projects
Visitors
Contests
Search

Writing a Winner

Story ID:6174
Written by:Richard Laurent. Provencher (bio, contact, other stories)
Organization:Retired
Story type:Musings, Essays and Such
Location:Truro, Nova Scotia Canada
Year:2010
Person:Richard L. Provencher
View Comments (0)   |   Add a Comment Add a Comment   |   Print Print   |     |   Visitors
Writing a Winner

I sit, stretching finger muscles. Adjust tri-focal glasses and scratch my shoulder. The monitor is a tease waiting for my latest muse, computer humming, wondering about a new slant on life’s messages. A pile of work surrounds me, manuscripts in various stages, rejected works, and a coffee mug half full.

Some stories and poems are persistent, as they twang in the mind, seeking attention. They’re more like mosquitoes taking on new shapes each time they’re thought of. They snatch at you like a family of Chick-a-Dees, their usual antics anticipating frequent revised descriptions.

To whom will you submit your gems this time? Will it be another “Not taking on new clients” type of publisher who repeatedly advertises in a writer’s magazine? Or the editor who continues to say, “Send me your full manuscript.” Then six months later in response to a query, “Didn’t you get our E-mail stating we are no longer interested? Sorry.”

But, a true writer does not give up. The challenge for getting published remains.

Barbs or sarcasm do not diminish me. “You call this a poem?” I rise above that type of critiquing. “Have you tried taking a writing course?” My feathers are those of an eagle, shuffling, eager for day’s launch.

I am prepared to rise above their shortsightedness. I am a writer. I am me.

Ha, an unopened letter. It missed my attention yesterday after the heat wave lulled me into sleepy mode. “You have a nice way of expressing yourself” is an unexpected thermal that greets my expanding smile. “Yes, we do wish to receive your full manuscript. Send it soon.”

I switch to gasping mode. A new song is triumphant. My eagle wings stretch fully. A shrieking emits from my mouth. And a fresh load of paper hastily greets my printer, the new child about to be release. Busy fingers fly across the computer keys to that wise editor; “I am happy to respond to your request for my enclosed manuscript.”

Yes, I am a joyous bundle of anticipation.


© Richard L. Provencher