After Years of Wanting—Wanting To Be Published on Lit Mags, Wanting To Tell Stories of Ethiopians—I Had Had It
And then, I decided.
This week, I received an email from a reader.
“What one thing you believe is the secret to getting published on lit mags?”
I hate reading articles that talk about the secret to this, and the secret to that. Reading these kinds of articles give me headaches. So I’m not going to write a secret. I don’t think there is one secret or one magical thing that can work for every writer in the world. What I can do is tell my story—and only that.
In The Moment When You’ll Finally Change, Kris Gage writes:
“You deliberate and deliberate and deliberate and you kind of always think that someday you’re really gonna do this, damnit but you also kinda never really make it happen.
Until one day you do.
You just get fed up. You decide. And just like that, it’s done. And you don’t look back.”
Gage is talking about important things—leaving a toxic relationship, quitting a job we hate, starting that business we’ve thinking about forever. For me, writing and publishing short stories on literary magazines was that important thing.
Almost two years ago now, I felt that I had had it, I don’t remember the exact time and date, but I remember the feeling that lingered for weeks after that moment—disappointment in myself, and disgust at myself that stole my breath.
“Getting disgusted is insanely powerful. Maybe not in the healthiest way — but very often in an irrevocable one.
It’s important to note that this is not self-hatred. In fact, it’s the opposite. It’s a sudden feeling of deep and authentic self-love; a wash of realization like waking up from sleep-walking and looking down to see a gallon of egg nog or an empty pizza box in your hands and, startled, you all but shout,
“What the hell am I doing?!”
This. Except it’s your real life.” –Kris Gage, The Moment When You’ll Finally Change
At the time, I’d thought Kris wrote every word in her insightful article for me.
Then, I decided.
After years of wanting—wanting to be published on lit mags, wanting to tell stories of Ethiopians—I had had it. I will do whatever it takes to get my name out there and to let my characters breathe life—outside of my notebooks, outside of my closet, outside of my laptop.
And then there’s the work, which I love. Since then, I have done the work, and I’m still doing it, and I hope—even after I publish a 2nd story, or a 100th story, even after my short story collection is published (fingers crossed)—I will still do it.
“There’s no one way – there’s too much drivel about this subject. You’re who you are, not Fitzgerald or Thomas Wolfe. You write by sitting down and writing. There’s no particular time or place – you suit yourself, your nature. How one works, assuming he’s disciplined, doesn’t matter. If he or she is not disciplined, no sympathetic magic will help. The trick is to make time – not steal it – and produce the work. Eventually everyone learns his or her own best way. The real mystery to crack is you.” – Writer, Bernard Malamud from How Artists Work: Daily Rituals by Mason Currey