First Time Submitting to a Literature Magazine

*flails*  I finally did it!  This is the first short story of original fiction that I’ve written, polished, and submitted to a literature magazine.  I’ve mentioned it a few times on this blog as the suicide story.  I’ve also referred to it as Short Story D.  I’ve spent several years writing, but it was exclusively fanfiction, which can’t be published.  I sent my story to Glimmer Train and will send it to a few others in the next week.  The rate of acceptance for this magazine is 1/1000, so the odds are against me.  I guess that’s a bit of an understatement😄  I’m expecting it to get rejected, but that’s okay.  The endpoint for me is becoming a good writer, and I improved so much in the process of writing and editing this story.  Although, getting something published would be a nice bonus🙂

I’d love to post the story or snippets on my blog, but I can’t because the majority of literary magazines want first publishing rights.  By posting it to the internet you’ve published it, so most literary magazines won’t accept it.  Although I’ve seen some in the past year that have deleted that clause from their submission guidelines.  The exception is critique sites that are password locked.  Glimmer Train takes blog published fiction, but many others do not, unfortunately.

I spent about a week writing the rough draft of this story and months revising it.  I don’t delete anything, so with each revision I just opened a new document.  There are 18 drafts😄  I’ve never revised something so much.  Complicating factors were the non-linear storyline and my rough transition from fanfiction to original fiction.

Now I start work on another short story.  I’m not sure if I want to do the one about the little girl with an abusive father or the mother that loses her son and develops a relationship with the little girl that gets his transplanted heart.  I’ll probably do the transplanted heart one because I’ve already started that one.

I took a break from blogging because I just had so many things going on in my life.  I’ve taken numerous 7 day+ writing/reading hiatuses as well.  I might talk about it at a later point in time.  I wish my life was more stable, but it’s not and probably never will be.  I’m flying to the other side of the country tomorrow to meet up with Dr. Millis, one of the best hip preservation surgeons in the world.  It’s looking like my last hip surgery in May 2014 has failed.  The surgery wasn’t with Dr. Millis, but I saw him in 2013 and really liked him, so I’m hoping he can help me.  I’ve had 3 hip preservation surgeries at this point, so I’m hoping I can hold off on another one for 1-2 years.  My right hip is still partially dislocating, which is as painful as it sounds.  Did I mention how much I hate my hips😄  Wait, I mean hip in the singular sense.  The left one had a scope and is behaving quite nicely.  My right hip is a factory reject😦

The Light Flickers Within Our Hearts

A close friend of mine is struggling, and she’s much younger than me.  For her birthday, I got her the book All the Light We Cannot See.  It’s a beautiful metaphor for life.  As an aside, it’s an amazing book. Anyway, I went searching for an inspirational quote to put inside the front cover, but I couldn’t find one that fit her specific situation and used light as a metaphor.  So I wrote some inspiring words for her, or at least I attempted to do that😄

“During the bleakest moments we walk in the shadows, fumbling around in our search for answers. If we look hard enough we’ll find that the light is within our hearts. Sometimes it is buried under so many layers of grief and sorrow it seems an impossible task to uncover it, but it has always bee there. Never give up. Even if we can’t see it, the light flickers within, a bastion of hope in the desolate landscape of life.”

Inside of the Book Cover 


I cut the names out for obvious reasons.  I could probably write something better if I spent enough time on it.  I just realized I used the word “within” twice.  Oops😄  Hopefully she likes it🙂

I’ve been away for a bit.  It’s a combination of things.  I became addicted to the literary critque site Scribophile.  I’m editing the umpteenth draft of my suicide story, and will then submit it to a few literature magazines.  I’ve started on another short story.  I’m getting an MRI + contrast/lidocaine injection on Oct. 14th.  My hip surgery may have failed, and I’ve cried so many tears over it.  It might not be so bad without the partial dislocations, but they are frequent, sometimes happening 4+ times a month.  It’s as painful as it sounds.  My husband’s family is coming over from Japan in October.  I’m so excited😀  I haven’t seen them since I hurt myself seven years ago.  I’m still working full time as a retail pharmacist, which can be very stressful.  My parents moved to the other side of the country, and our relationship has improved.  In the midst of it all I’m trying to get pregnant😄   I’ve been having issues with anxiety, but I try to just take each day as it comes.  I find it helps me cope with life.

Haiku Attempt #1

I thought I’d try writing some haikus because I love prose.  I’m not a poet by any means though, so suggestions are always appreciated🙂  I tend to be overly verbose, so I thought this would be a good challenge for me.

Haiku 1

As night advances

The sun falls on bloody knees

A final goodbye.

Haiku 2

The plip-plop of rain

Echoes throughout the garden

In tune with the frogs.

Poetry: “Remembrance of You”

Remembrance of You

I lie in bed, eyes closed to avoid light’s jagged edge,

my mind blazing with thoughts of you.

Years have passed since I last saw you.

The features of your face are fading into a blur.

The scent of roses wafts through the air

and pervades my thoughts,

but only for a moment.

Memories tarnished by time.

Your fingers interlaced with mine.

Salty skin that smelled of patchouli and amber.

The low timbre of your voice as you said, “I love you.”

The buzz of silence is maddening, cutting into my thoughts, and my eyes snap open.

In my heart the fire still flickers, the flames licking at my sanity.

As desire swells I cannot escape

my burning passion for you.

The scent of roses turns rancid,

and my eyelids grow heavy

 thinking of you.


I originally wrote this many years ago before I even started creative writing.  I revised it recently.  I’m not a poet by any means though😄  If anyone has any thoughts, advice, or constructive criticism you are welcome to share🙂  I keep going back and forth on the line “Memories tarnished by time,” and “My memories are tarnished by time.”  I think the latter is grammatically correct, but it doesn’t flow as well with the rest of the poem.  I love poetic prose, but poems are very different from short stories and novels.  Maybe I’ll try to write some more poems in the future.  Guess that means I have to incorporate some poetry into my reading.

Hooked By the First Line

An interesting point I’ve seen critters focus on is the importance of the opening paragraph, especially the first line.  I typically give books several pages before I decide whether or not to continue reading, but I can usually tell from the first few lines whether or not I’m going to enjoy it.  I thought it would be kind of fun to compile a list of opening lines from some of the books I have.  Some stories have dedications on the first page or two, which is why they don’t start till the third page or so.

“When he woke in the woods in the dark and the cold of the night he’d reach out to touch the child sleeping beside him.  Nights dark beyond darkness and the days more gray each one that what had gone before.  Like the onset of some cold glaucoma dimming away the world. ” ~The Road (published 2006) by Cormac McCarthy, page 1.

“At dusk [leaflets] pour from the sky.  They blow across the ramparts, turn cartwheels over rooftops, flutter into the ravines between houses.  Entire streets swirl with them, flashing white against the cobblestones.” ~All the Light We Cannot See (published 2014) by Anthony Doerr, page 3.

“Sitting beside the road, watching the wagon mount the hill toward her, Lena thinks, ‘I have come from Alabama: a fur piece.  All the way from Alabama a-walking.”~Light in August (published 1932), William Faulkner, page 1

“The Salinas Valley is in Northern California.  It is a long narrow swale between two ranges of mountains, and the Salinas River winds and twists up the center until it falls at last into the Monterey Bay.”~East of Eden (published 1952) by John Steinbeck, page 1.

“‘Corruption?  I’ll tell you about corruption, sonny!’ The old man glared into the flames in the fireplace and trembled all over, biting so hard on the stem of his pipe that it crackled once, sharply, like the fireplace logs.” ~October Light by John Gardner, page 1.

“Snowman wakes before dawn.  He lies unmoving, listening to the tide coming in, wave after wave sloshing over the various barricades, wish-wash, wish-wash, the rhythm of heartbeat. He would so like to believe he is asleep.” ~Oryx and Crake (published 2003) by Margaret Atwood, page 1.

“It was Wang Lung’s marriage day.  At first, opening his eyes in the blackness of the curtains about his bed, he could not think why the dawn seemed different from any other.  The house was still except for the faint, gasping cough of his old father, whose room was opposite to his own across the middle room.” ~The Good Earth (published 1931) by Pearl S. Buck, page 1.

“The escalator crept along slowly, straining upward  In an old station like this, what else could you expect?  But the wind swirled like a wild thing inside the concrete pipe–ruffling his hair, tugging the hood off his head, sneaking under his scarf, pressing him downward.” ~Nightwatch (published 1998) by Sergei Lukyanenko, page 3.

“I had seen her just the day before–a day of pale blue skies and summer breezes. We had stood on the lawns beneath the chestnut trees and she had said: the leaves are talking to me Charlie.”~The Piano Man’s Daughter (published 1995) by Timothy Findley, page 1.

“It was love at first sight.  The first time Yossarian saw the chaplain he fell madly in love with him.  Yosarrian was in the hospital with a pain in his liver that fell just short of being jaundice.”~Catch-22 (published 1961) by Joseph Heller.

“In the shade of the house, in the sunshine on the river bank by the boats, in the shade of the sallow wood and the fig tree, Siddhartha, the handsome Brahmin’s son, grew up with his friend Govinda.  The sun browned his slender shoulders on the river bank, while bathing at the holy ablutions, at the holy sacrifices.”~Siddhartha (published 1922) by Hermann Hesse, page 3

“Mabel had known there would be silence.  That was the point, after all.  No infants cooing or wailing.  No neighbor children playfully hollering down the lane.”~The Snow Child (published 2013) by Ewoyn Ivey, page 3

What many of them have in common is that the pull the reader into the world that they have created, and make us care about what is happening.  The first few lines also set the mood for the story.  After reading the intro for The Road, you can already tell the story is going to be dark and full of angst.

An interesting point is that when you compare the introductions of older fiction to their modern counterparts, it’s obvious that modern audiences expect more of a hook.  Maybe that has something to do with the fact that people have less patience now.  We are always looking for faster and more efficient ways to accomplish things.  It only makes sense that this would extend to fiction.

Out of curiosity, based on these intros, which books would you want to read?   I’ve read all of these so my choices are biased.

Celebrating the 8th Anniversary of My Marriage

Taka and Jessica 2

This is a picture of me and my husband from our early days of courtship.  I had flown over to Japan to meet his family, who were incredibly sweet and welcoming.  I was a huge otaku at the time, so it had always been a dream of mine to visit Japan.  I might talk about it in a later post, or maybe I already did?  I’m blonde and six feet tall, so everyone stared at me like I was an alien😄  They would openly comment about me assuming I didn’t speak Japanese.  I didn’t, but my husband (boyfriend at the time) did.

I met him when I was 17 years old.  We were both going to the same college, and I saw him sitting at the lunch counter.  I was taking Japanese, so I put that book on top and sat next to him, hoping he would notice and it would start a conversation.  Well, it worked😄  I’m shy and socially awkward, so I’m glad he was the one to initiate a conversation.  We started dating shortly after that.  He was my first real boyfriend because I didn’t date in high school.  We broke up about three years after dating, and then got back together, and got married about a year after rekindling our relationship.

I was anorexic when we first met.  You’ll notice in the pic I am wearing a coat because I was always freezing.  We’ve been together for over 10 years and in that time period I’ve had two bouts of anorexia, depression, generalized anxiety disorder, hypothyroidism (now treated), three hip preservation surgeries, debilitating chronic pain from multiple joints, and an Ehlers-Danlos Syndrome diagnosis.  There have been some tough years.  Living with someone that has a physical and/or mental illness is exhausting.  He didn’t always believe me (no one but my sister and closest friends did), but now he does.  Our relationship is in a good place now🙂

He came into my life when I hated myself so much I wanted to disappear.  I remember thinking God sent him to be my guardian angel because he helped me through so much.  I don’t know if I still believe that, but I feel lucky we were both in the cafeteria at the same time on that particular day.  We’ve both changed a lot since we first met, but we’ve grown closer together again🙂  We’ve both become better people, at least in my opinion.  Growing up I used to think that I would marry someone who was a tortured soul like me, but he’s pretty much the opposite.  Sometimes you don’t know what you want until you are older, at least I didn’t.

Cecil the Lion and Why God Cares

I don’t like talking about politics because it is going to upset some people regardless of one’s viewpoint.  I’m not into forcing my beliefs on others because I don’t want others to force their beliefs on me, so it’s generally a topic I don’t talk much about.  But I have to speak out on Cecil’s behalf as both a cat lover and a decent human being.

For those of you that haven’t heard, an American dentist, Walter Palmer, shot a sanctuary protected lion from Zimbabwe’s Hwange National Park. As more details emerge, the story gets even darker.  Cecil was lured out of his sanctuary, wounded with a bow and arrow, and then killed 40 hours later with a gun.  Conservationists predict that the new lion that takes control of the Cecil’s pride is likely to kill most or all of Cecil’s 24 cubs.

This matters because Lions are a Vulnerable species (see chart below), which is one step about an Endangered species like tigers.  If we aren’t careful, wild lions will be nothing more than archived pictures on the internet.  According to the IUCN Red List of Threatened Species, there has been a 42% decline in the world’s lion population in the last 20 years.  This isn’t like hunting deer where the hunter eats the meat.  After Cecil was killed he was skinned and his corpse was left to rot.  Lions are at the top of the food chain, so they are much more prone to disease and parasites than herbivores, so it’s not advised to eat them.  This man not only tortured a lion for fun, but effectively killed 25 of them because something is lacking in his own life that he has to kill a lion to feel powerful and important.


“Status iucn3.1”. Licensed under CC BY 2.5 via Wikimedia Commons –

I found this great article that talks about the issue from a Christian perspective.  God gave us dominion over all of his creatures, but they are his property, and he expects us to treat them with respect.  Torturing a majestic beast from a Vulnerable species does not fit into God’s plan.  This man needs to answer to God for what he did.  America is looking into prosecution.  RIP Dear Cecil😦  There is even a memorial to him outside of Dr. Palmer’s office.