Monday, March 23, 2015
There's a major Irish Short Story competition held every year.
Last time I entered - about 5 years ago - I made the Long List.
This time I made the Short List.
There were 1,575 stories submitted and the Short List was 103 which included my story. I made that magical 6.5% of all submissions - you can see that my accountant mind lives on, ha.
The reason I am posting this here is that it is a very weird feeling to make it to the Short List. Weird and wonderful.
I want to celebrate this - you know - but it sounds foolish to other than a writer's ears and self-laudatory. Actually, pathetic is the word. Not the achievement but the desire to blow up the balloons and throw around the sparklers and streamers.
Who would possibly understand that I would want to celebrate an overall non-win as I didn't make the final cut of 11?