It’s January 1. So, Happy New Year. I’m not the resolutions type, but this year I am committing myself to writing more (instead of thinking about it and talking about it and banging my head against the wall about it) and submitting more.
Today, I sent a piece of flash fiction to Belleville Park Pages. It's called Three Grocery Stores and it's my first flash piece ever, I think. At the very least, I’ll get a rejection letter to hang on the wall. At best, well, you know.
Last Spring, I met a writing partner through Craigs List. It wasn’t weird, I swear. I put a note there looking for someone who truly wanted to make time to discuss our fiction, say, two or three times per month. And I mentioned that I was about 15,000 words into a novel. And I stressed that this would be a platonic relationship but it would be nice to share some laughs too. Simultaneously, I read an almost exact duplicate Craigslist entry and responded to it. And that’s how it went down.
I no longer have this writing partner, but only because she finished her novel and has it out for review. She’s talented. Like, she’s gonna get published.
And I’m happy for her. No, really, I am. I’ll miss our conversations over coffee and rosé in this gritty Pigalle café near the Anvers Metro. It’s strange to have nostalgia for something that has come and gone in Paris. It underlines the fact that I’ve been living in France for one whole year. That’s a long time, yo. I better have something to show for it, like, soon.
So my New Year’s Resolutions, to be specific, are:
Submit one piece of short fiction every week to a literary publication
Spend one hour writing my novel four days per week
Attend more live readings
Talk to more peeps at live readings instead of sitting in a corner like a dum dum
Read something - just once - at a live reading
I’d also like to drop ten pounds, but have you ever tasted a Brioche Suisse?