It’s been bitterly cold this weekend. Windchill warnings and lots of talk about just how darn cold it is, and the ‘March comes in like a lion’ jokes have been really overdone. A lion. I scoff. It’s come in like a steamroller, like a mastodon, like a wall of painfully cold wind. You either get the cold or a lot of snow, but fortunately not both (not often).
I’ve been pecking away at a new short story this weekend (despite having two others that are only half done). I’ve also been keeping an eye on my Women Destroy SF submissions. They went from 1007 submissions to 295 earlier this week, and one of the editors tweeted this morning that they’re down to 65 decisions to make. I’m in that pool of 65. It is maddening in a ‘any news yet? Any news yet? Any news yet’ sort of way (they are reading as fast as they can, I know). Also quite wonderful, but mostly a little nervewracking, because every time my phone burps to let me know I have an email, I freeze and wonder if it’s the rejection notice. Just making it this far is pretty awesome, though. Whether that’s on the strength of the story or just where it happens to be in the pile, I don’t know. We’ll see. Fingers well crossed.