Okay, now I'm going to be hit by a meteor...
Just heard from the pirate anthology "Fast Ships, Black Sails". For those not in the loop, I wrote and submitted a story to them called "Cold Day In Hell" whilst I was otherwise unemployed. Tonight they wrote back to accept it. Apparently it was a near thing, as they had a lot more stories than slots. No, let's amend that: They had a lot more good stories than slots. Some of the anthology was filled by invitation before they started taking submissions, so there were like 6 or so open slots, as near as I can figure. Needless to say, I am extremely jazzed about this, as it marks my first pro-level sale in about 8 years. Plus it's going to be a not-inconsiderable payday. Before anyone asks, no I have no idea when exactly it is coming out - I'll be sure to mention it as soon as I know.
The thing is, coming hard on the heels of my new job, it makes for entirely too much good fortune for one month, and I am sure, deep down in my lizard-brain where no reason dwells, that something TERRIBLE must now happen to balance the scales. I try to think of Marcus Cole, saying "Wouldn't it be terrible if life was fair, and that we therefore deserve all the bad things that happen to us?" Ridiculous to believe - deep down in the flinty-eyed protestant-raised wastes of irrationality - that life is in any way balanced. We see people every day who are lucky, who live comfortable, privileged lives without tragedy to balance it. It's a pernicious, wretched, completely fallacious conviction that I am certain is going to cause my painful death just for daring to doubt the truth behind it.
Sigh.
And the editors, bless 'em, want to call my story something else. I'm not married to the title, but I rather like it. They suggested calling it "Frost", which I thing is outstandingly dull. So now I have to think of something else cool to call it. I suppose I could always go with "The Ice Pirates", but I think that's taken...
The thing is, coming hard on the heels of my new job, it makes for entirely too much good fortune for one month, and I am sure, deep down in my lizard-brain where no reason dwells, that something TERRIBLE must now happen to balance the scales. I try to think of Marcus Cole, saying "Wouldn't it be terrible if life was fair, and that we therefore deserve all the bad things that happen to us?" Ridiculous to believe - deep down in the flinty-eyed protestant-raised wastes of irrationality - that life is in any way balanced. We see people every day who are lucky, who live comfortable, privileged lives without tragedy to balance it. It's a pernicious, wretched, completely fallacious conviction that I am certain is going to cause my painful death just for daring to doubt the truth behind it.
Sigh.
And the editors, bless 'em, want to call my story something else. I'm not married to the title, but I rather like it. They suggested calling it "Frost", which I thing is outstandingly dull. So now I have to think of something else cool to call it. I suppose I could always go with "The Ice Pirates", but I think that's taken...