My haunted thoughts while trying to get a short story published …

The last short story I recently wrote is a special one, at least to me. It is the one that defined what I love so much about that genre I chose to write in:

Historical fiction that is a little bit haunted and probably has some horror elements in it.

Finishing that short story was such a wonderful feeling! So wonderful, afterwards I almost felt as if I could not keep writing. My head felt almost empty, and I could not think about touching the witching novel again for a while. It was as if the short story had soothed something deep inside of me, something that I was not aware of before.

Since the whole thing had felt so special, I decided that I wanted to send the short story out into the world. I wanted to see it published in a small magazine. I wanted it to be read, to be the one thing people would connect to my yet unknown name. Since everyone knows how tough and challenging this process can be, I thoughts while going through it.

My favourite little short story is still unpublished, but I am not surprised. I was counting on it being a long journey, but I am not going to give up hope! It will find its way out into the world eventually, I‘m sure!

So far, I have sent it to three magazines and one experimental project also looking for short prose. I have gotten rejection letters and have not been ignored anywhere I sent it to. None of the rejections were personalized, and yes! Once in the past that has also happened to me. It happens, people actually read things and give you friendly advice! Don‘t give up!

I still have two addresses to try out, and will soon look for new ones. I don‘t want to put this short story on my blog or anywhere else. I want it to be elsewhere.

When I told my friend about my three rejections, she nodded understanding. „The competition is just so tough.“ And as lovely as that response was, it still hurt a little bit. A tiny, little bit. Because it was a reminder that I could drown in the mass of all the people having big dreams, and never be seen, but I want to be seen! And I think my short story deserves it!

… Which brings me to my next thought: Finding the right place and time to be seen!

I honestly think that this is the most important and most difficult task of all for a creative mind. Knowing the right place to go, the right audience to talk to … That is something I am still figuring out. Where do I actually belong?

To one day know, I should probably think about what makes this short story so special to me.
Why does it define what I want to write?

At this point, I hear my witch giggle. „Because you‘re morbid as fuck?“

Yea, probably.

But this might also be the issue with that short story. It is so morbid, people might shy away from it. Do you know the demand to not use your queers, gays, trans characters for tragedy? It has some truth in it, but also is a risky thing, since it also restricts individuals from writing what they went through, but it‘s a thing for another time.
I don‘t have any characters like that in it, but I do take a woman apart.
This is not a big spoiler, so hear me out. I do take a woman apart, and there is a lot of fragile masculinity, while exploring an aspect of witch hunts that matters to me personally a lot.

Yes, this might be so morbid, it is rather risky to publish.

But I love the story for exploring a depth unknown to many people, but hiding in our psyche collectively. The short story is rather about things unseen than those actually factual. The short story takes place mostly in the early moments of sunset, with obsessive thoughts growing in the shrinking shadows, and hearts and bodies breaking.

I am very morbid, yea.

I will not give up on this short story, because I think it is very good. At least for my standard. I am not being delusional confident, but for what I can do, this is good.

My inspiration for that short story mostly came from remembering „The yellow wall paper“ by Charlotte Perkins Gilman, and how the slow but certain escalation had lured me in.

I wasn‘t that good, I know …

My most important thoughts in the process of finding a home for my morbid little short story are that I won‘t give up and that finding the right place for me is the challenge in front of me.

I have recently listened a lot to Lucy Rose again, and I love her music. Also, because I listened to her a lot in the two years when I was mostly living in theater stages, was not speaking to other people outside of stage time, and had an ice sheet growing under my skin. I am better than that now. I won‘t give up.

Oh, and the title of the short story is „Haunted boy.“ If you know someone looking for this kind of dark historical fiction, let me know!