The editing of my SF short story (HACKING – cut from from 11.8k to <10k) last week was to no immediate result. Whether it lost vibrancy, character development, story thread or was just a load of rubbish in the first place remains moot.

Whatever the reason, it wasn’t for them.

That’s the bad news.

The good news?

Possibly none, but there is an opportunity to place it with someone else, so the time and effort wasn’t entirely wasted.

As well as paring it down ( I suspect a ‘good thing’ in itself) it made me re-read it, first with an eye to where it could be trimmed. Second I read it again with a general eye to deciding whether it was an interesting, entertaining story with something to say about the human condition and incidentally the nature of truth and perception. In these days of ‘fake news’ and deep fake activity it was surprisingly apposite given I initially wrote it about four and a half years ago.

The upshot of all this revising, re-reading, hacking and re-jigging was that I still enjoyed reading it. Not something I can say about all the things I write.

I will be sending it off later today, confirmed in my belief (and whilst I confess to being biased I can generally see why some things don’t sell on reflection) that it is definitely worth publishing and reading. That’s incredibly modest isn’t it?

But if there weren’t a tiny bit of ego involved would anyone ever send anything off to a publisher or agent?

I suspect I need more ego and a thicker skin but I’ll try and carry on with what I have.


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