My short story LAST MOMENTS is being published by Distant Shore Publishing! I could not be more happy and excited at this moment. The exact date is TBD, but I already feel a great weight lifted off my shoulders.
This journey has been difficult and will continue to be so. After so many rejections, I nearly cried at recording a success. That little green dot in the tracking tool means so much to me.
Despite a thorough intellectual understanding of the rejection letters even the finest authors received early in their careers, I feel drained by each one. Rejection is the first step to publication, says my brain. No one will ever want your writing, says my fearful heart. Well, hah! Now I have proof otherwise.
Last Moments is a particularly special story to me. I hope that you will read it and take your own meaning away. I’ll share a little about what I think about in reading it. None of these thoughts betray the plot of the story, nor are they the only inspiration for the story, but perhaps these feelings will resonate with you.
When I turned 26, I realized that I was the same age as my mother was when she had me. Years later, I still don’t have a child of my own. I have plans to adopt, yes, but I have not yet enacted them.
My father had more children when I was nearly an adult, and they don’t remember my mémé (grandmother), nor their grandmother on my step mother’s side. They were just toddlers for all their interactions.
Will my parents be there for my children’s lives? Certainly, I don’t want to have children until I am ready, but as I get older, I worry. By waiting, am I robbing joy from my parents by limiting the time they get to spend with their grandchildren? Am I robbing my children of a chance to build the kind of relationships I enjoy?
We are lucky to consider these thoughts. My parents and my biological grandparents are still alive (Mémé was my father’s step mother). Our greatest fear is the decline of the mind, as our bodies tend towards long-lived, though I don’t take that for granted. As I see my grandparents change, my parents change, myself change, I can only hope that my theoretical children can still find joy in us when they arrive.