Entry #7, Certain Sharks

At first, this entry was going to be a sort of confessional on how I'd wasted another week avoiding the "professional" part of "professional writer." That was my intention a few days ago, anyway. Then the strangest thing happened.

I started submitting.

Of course, I had to jump through a few hoops first. Anyone who's submitted short stories in the twenty-first century is familiar with these hoops. I dusted off my Submissible account, started a Subfolio account, researched which magazines haven't died over the last couple of years (truly the saddest part of this process) and which had their submission windows open, updated my bio, crafted a pretty good (generic) cover letter… I even made a spreadsheet, y'all! Feels like every year this process gets a little more involved, but maybe I'm just getting older and lazier. Call it my "maturation as a writer" if you want to get on my good side.

Keep in mind, this was the first time in well over a year I'd submitted anything unsolicited. My nerves were shot, I felt very overwhelmed and unprepared (even though I've done this before, many times), and the urge to use my doubt as an excuse to change a million things in my story as a delay tactic was monstrous. The first submission took me an hour to complete. The second took thirty minutes. The final two submissions took less than fifteen. Each time I submitted and the world did not cave in, it got a little easier. The idea that part of being a writer, at least for me, is not just to explore a means of expression but to share that expression with others began to take hold. 

And I was reminded, not for the first time, that submitting stories is a lot like writing them: the key to success is to avoid stagnation. Momentum is everything, or at least it's a lot. I've learned that certain kinds of sharks die if they stay still for very long, and I think certain writers are the same way. Myself included. My best stories, my greatest achievements, my strongest connections and friendships, they all happened when I was working on something. Sometimes a lot of things. And the more I worked, the more I had to write about. There are plenty of things that have exhausted this writer, but writing has never been one of them. Some years, like the ones I spent at Ole Miss and USask, I wrote just about every day. And invariably the writing grew stronger as a result. 

That's great to hear you're back in the saddle. Do you expect this resurgence to stick around this time?

Welcome back, Rhetorical Device! And no, probably not. My confidence in anything, especially myself, tends to have a short shelf-life. And honestly, I think that can be a good thing in moderation; overly proud writers are the worst. That said, I'll gladly take whatever pride I can get for however long I can get it.

Whatever. So where did you submit your short story?

At the risk of letting you down a second time, I can't tell you just yet. This is where my own superstitions come into play. Any time I've set my crosshairs on the stars publicly, I have ended up shooting myself in the foot. Publicly. Perhaps this is the Higher Up's way of teaching me humility. My biggest writing breaks have always come when I've exercised a quiet modesty and pretended I don't give too much of a shit about any of this (I care way too much, for the record). So for now, just know that three of the journals are big and all four are considered "prestige." I might not be ready to name the stars I'm shooting for, but believe me, I'm still gunning for them! 

Oh, and if you're reading this entry on the day it's published: Happy Halloween! It looks like the wife and I are going to stay home this year, which is mighty fine by me. Driving a ton over the years has made me very wary of drunk revelers on the roads, so now I try to limit my time behind the wheel during the "fun" holidays. A few friends might come over to help us root for our Georgia Bulldawgs and divvy out the good stuff. I should note my neighborhood hosts a huge parade every Halloween with kids from all over town. Last time we attended, we counted 81 certified trick-or-treaters. Lots of Spider-Men and various princesses. What's not to love? I'll be a Viking again this year, now with more eye shadow. I'm not sure the wife has quite settled on her outfit. I'll have to keep y'all posted on that.

I'm taking a (short) break from the Dresden Files and Garrett P.I. series to bounce between Kingsolver's Damon Copperhead and Steinbeck's East of Eden. Funny, I hadn't intended on reading two novels that are each contemporary retellings of classic stories (David Copperfield and The Book of Genesis, respectively). I wonder if this is purely a coincidence or some enigmatic symbol of my current mood. 

But perhaps we can unravel that one another time. For now, I think the gist of this post was to say that this week reminded me of an important lesson: sometimes, the best thing certain sharks can do for their careers, their stories, and their health is just keep swimming.

Until next time…

All Best, Always.

Gunnar

10/31/2026