Yesterday I finished my first short story of my Four Short Challenge. Right on time, as usual. (Actually . . . I'm always running later, but you get the point.) This story is similar in some was to my novelette. It's first person present, troubled male POV. Still no working title though. And in other news, I've already got the idea for the next story. No troubled male this time, but very possibly a troubled woman.
Anyway, I've had yet more epiphanies with this exercise. (Told you I was good at pondering.) Among the many other benefits I've noticed, this one this came to me morning. The more I write, the less hope I attach to each story. Now that may not sound like a good thing, but trust me, it is. I didn't pay much attention to the fact that I was doing it, but before, every time I would write a story or work on a novel, I would subconsciously lay all of my hopes for publication on it.
This is it. This is better than Previous Story, and it's all I've got, so it has to be the one.
Know what I mean? But now as I am adding more to the pile, that pressure is fading. This could be it, or that one, or that one I'm about to write. Publication is no longer the focus. It's about writing a story I love. And as those stories pile up, I'll have plenty of options to choose from in my quest for publication. It's all very encouraging. Who'd have thought that pushing myself to complete four stories in a month would be so relaxing?