30

Well in several ways that was probably the most exciting week I’ve had in years – but, alas, it seems like the three most exciting things must remain a secret, for now. All I can say is: hypnotherapy was amazing, and I’m so, so hopeful for the future and what it will bring me; I’m an incredible detective, and wish I did it <i>all the time</i>; and…there’s hope elsewhere as well; we’ll see.

In other news, The Publisher didn’t like the first story I submitted (‘Thirteen’), saying it wasn’t really a story at all – because it didn’t do the beginning, middle and end thing; because it didn’t have a conflict and conflict resolution – but that it was more of a memoir, and not really what they were after. I was gutted, at first, and railed, thinking, why be so limited? I mean, if it’s good, and short, what’s wrong with that? Talking it through with <i>this amazing girl I know</i>, though, I started to see where I’d gone wrong. Probably they’re right; probably it’s not enough just to describe an experience, and hope it does something for the reader, but you have to work at provoking a reaction, an emotional response. It has to have some kind of excitement (thanks, C, for helping me see that!) Still: bummer.

I wonder what they’ll make of the story I submitted on Tuesday, ‘I Fly With My Little Spy’? I thought it was pretty crazy at the time of writing – and then when I’d finished it, and described the plot to my housemate, Holly, I was like, that’s fucking insane! But who knows what they’ll think? I mean, there’s no accounting for taste.

I wrote a lot last week; less so this one.