and then we placed our heads underwater and left them there

Thanks to my wordslave*, short story number one was edited and sent off to Apex Magazine on Saturday, right on schedule.  Thank you wordslave!  Though I’m pretty sure it’s going to get rejected six words in.

This week’s story is more involved, so we’ll see whether I actually get it written, edited, polished and released.  I’ve been meaning to write it every since I was in southern Estonia back in August, so it’s not as if it hasn’t had time to ferment.  It’s ready and needing to be written, I just have to write it.

Of course, that’s always the trouble.  The execution.  Saying what I actually mean to say.  Because for me, writing is often about expressing what I can’t speak.  Not that there’s bounds on what I say.  No, what I mean is…I write to say the difficult things.  Those things we try so hard to say every day, but, yet…can’t.

I shove myself down the dark tunnel (I guess this means I have an extra set of arms, disembodied).  I put ineffability into words.

And that’s what this week’s piece is about.  The hard things.  The silent things.  Swallowing tears, vomiting them out.

And if you ever read it, you’ll be confused, wondering how the hel it relates to southern Estonia.  To that, I say HA!

………………………………………………………………….

*My lovely wordslave, Cortney (over at Literature and Lace)

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