The Challenge

Well, I made it to round three in the NYC Flash Fiction Challenge.  I was so thrilled, I could hardly believe my good luck.  And, to boot, I got assigned the horror genre which I'd hoped for.

Everything seemed to go tickedy-boo.  I woke up Saturday morning, wrote my entire story and felt pretty good.  As the day crept on, though, I had this terrible feeling that it had been too easy.  I didn't like the title. I didn't like the ending.  There was too much telling and not enough showing.  I wasn't satisfied with my references to the main character's screwed up childhood.

So I rewrote.  My hubby Chris said, "You know you're going to rewrite that about a hundred times, right?" Well, maybe not a hundred times, but many times.  Yes, that's true.  He called it.

When I finally submitted I felt...unsettled.  Had I made a grievous error by sacrificing some of the raw emotion for a more subtle approach?  Was it too subtle?  Did I remember all the submission instructions?  I did remember to fill in all relevant fields on that submission page, didn't I?  It was in the correct font, right?

After I pressed send, I felt shaky.  What if I made a terrible, avoidable mistake?

(Yes, of course I went back and reread it one last time!)

In the end, it's out of my hands.  I'm grateful for the chance to have taken the challenge.  Now it's over and, hey, what's the worst thing that could happen?  Someone has to place last.