Today another envelope from Teen Ink arrived. I opened it, and sure enough, they’d sent me the December issue.
First of all, I’ve got to say that that was pretty cool of them. After all, I emailed the standard editor address, and they must get hundreds of emails every day. Yet a few weeks later they sent me the correct copy. The address was even written in pen. That’s customer service.
I flipped through the pages, and there it was. My poem. The accents (there’s some French included) and the italics were missing, which was too bad. Formatting probably is lost in translation between submissions and layout. I know our newspaper InDesign software cancels italics. Still, there it was. My poem. In print. Published.
Why am I not jumping for joy?
I’m not sure. I doubt it’ll be any different if I had a short story published, or a novel, or if I actually got paid. Perhaps I can chalk this ambivalence up to exhaustion, but it worries me. Shouldn’t I feel more satisfaction from seeing my dream come true, albeit in a small way? Of course, they say everything you hope for in life isn’t as exciting once you get it, but still…
If I win the Scholastic Writing Awards, though, I’m pretty sure there will be screeching involved.