Friday, December 07, 2012

I needed to be shaken awake. Every rupee of the $2 submission fee paisa vasool. The best part about life events, long after they’ve matured and the pain/ angst/ misery/ tears/ anger, anything that evoked a “from the gut” reaction, the best part after the emotion has mellowed a bit so now you only scowl at it—the best possible use is CNF. Yesterday I very quickly rewrote large chunks of an CNF after the Editor pointed out that I didn’t seem terribly proud of my work, my cussed persistence in pushing on with a genre regardless of rejects and silences. Where did this come from, shrinking violet, this “Yes, but…”? Part nature. Part credit to the notable “ex-perts” who had set the standard at stratospheric Glimmer Train heights and deem any lesser effort worthy of cruel disdain. Somewhere, it stays with you and it slips into the words.

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