I've sent a lot of pieces to a lot of places. I've been rejected time after time. I even kept a binder of the kind rejection notes that I have gotten (with the appropriate pieces attached). As my own inside joke, the binder is thin and embossed with the letters PMS, from an old computer system I once managed. Do I need to say that I love irony?
So, the last few weeks were made of pure joy for me. Not one but two pieces got accepted. First the Tallgrass Anthology took my short story about a haunted house in my neighborhood, called My Mount Greenwood Home.
Then one of my poems, called Recipe, was accepted in the Revise the Psalm: Work Celebrating the Writing of Gwendolyn Brooks. This work is about a woman who is brewing something up to revenge herself.
Let me point out the irony in these selections. Two different publications, but one strong theme. I am busy dealing with death. They do say, write what you know.