Regardless of how Ms. Dickinson felt about it, I would like to be published. The muse being it's own reward notwithstanding, it would be nice to be recognized as a good writer. Therefore, I'm going to enter every damned contest I can get my greedy little hands on. I'm now in the phase of editing, selecting, etc. Which of course means I'm back to the point of thinking that everything I write is crap and that no one will like it and I shouldn't even begin to think that they will.
/sigh
I suppose I should go off and do some more work.
/sigh
I suppose I should go off and do some more work.
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