SIGH. MAKE THAT A DOUBLE.
My entry into the Romance Writers of Australia High Five contest didn't make it into the top six finalists. But I'm fine with that (sure - pour me another glass of pinot ya bastards!).
I submitted the first chapter of my ms with no expectations. Still, I was disappointed when my name wasn't on the finalists' list. The judges' feedback should be coming in soon, which makes me even more fearful. If my writing really sucks, in their opinion, I will need to re-think this ms. I might just find a drawer somewhere in all this mess, shove it away, and start something new.
Maybe I will die like Van Gogh and my work will be celebrated after I am gone. I'm joking guys! It's romance for Gawd's sake!
But wouldn't it be one of life's biggest rip-offs to have your work acknowledged posthumously? I suppose Stieg Larsson is a recent example, though he was already published and well-known in Sweden. He wasn't penniless, starving and half-crazed like poor Vincent.
Moving right along... this weekend is my first ocean swim for the 2009/10 season. I'm going into this one with a feeling of trepidation and a tummy bug that's caused me grief for the past week.
It's the Dawny swim around Cockatoo Island in Sydney Harbour. Dawn Fraser pool is a harbour pool in the inner-west suburb of Balmain. Because the pool has bars to stop the bull sharks from getting in (joking again), the swim starts from a jetty next to it.
There's a 1 km option - out to the first buoy and back - and the 2.5 km swim, which circumnavigates the island. I've done the shorter swim before but this is my first attempt at the longer one.
I'm praying the only thing I run into is jelly blubbers - from memory they're everywhere.
The water temp is supposed to be a pleasant 21 degrees. I hear bull sharks like it warm. And meaty.
If you don't hear from me after the swim, tell Spanner the manuscript is stuffed down the back of my undies drawer - otherwise he'll never find it.
