And if I don’t get selected as a finalist, I’m genuinely worried my world might implode.
It’s a national competition through the NZ Writers College, but entrants can only be beginner writers. In two weeks a longlist of 25 stories will be published on their website, and a few weeks later the winners will be announced, along with 30 other stories they enjoyed reading. So I have 55 opportunities for my name and the title of my story to appear on the website. At first that made me happy, but now I realise it will only make me sadder if my story isn’t chosen.
I tell myself to lower my expectations and, to be honest, I didn’t exactly spend a lot of time on my submission since I chose to go skiing instead. It’s also the first short story I’ve written in eight years and the first i’ve submitted for a competition. So my expectations should be pretty damn low, but then I remember I have this funny idea that one day the novel I’m writing will get published and i’ll suddenly have opportunities to change career and my life will be go in a different, wonderful, exciting direction.
If my story isn’t chosen, will I stop writing the novel? Will I persist and try to prove them wrong? I already know I will cry.
My colleagues think I am interesting for entering a writing competition, though. I guess that’s something.