After a week of warming up my writing muscles, I finally managed to submit a couple of short fiction pieces for publication.
I thought that would be enough to finish the weekend on a high note. Then I remembered I still had to go through one of the most anxiety-inducing parts of writing on Medium: waiting for publications to reply.
Don’t get me wrong: publication editors deserve to enjoy their weekends. They are absolute legends for doing the work they do. This place would have gone to the dogs a long time ago if it weren’t for their effort. And, even when they take their sweet time, they’re still several orders of magnitudes faster than editors of print journals.
The editors are cool. I am the problem.
I have always been hopelessly bad at waiting.
Every hour that passes without a reply is an hour thinking of a thousand reasons why my stories deserve to be rejected. I reread them and find out they are unoriginal, trite, too short, disrespectful to Parliament and Her Majesty, the Queen of England.
As I said, I am the problem.
I need to find something to keep my mind busy and help me deal with publication anxiety.
Maybe I should just sit down and write.