Once upon a time, before my son was born, I submitted a short story called “The Turkey Incident” for publication. It was accepted. I was so excited that when my token payment arrived ($5), I didn’t cash the check. At this point, every accountant and editor is screaming in horror. Sorry. My only excuse is the check was worth $5 but being paid for a short story and being able to prove it was priceless.
I got distracted 7 months later with a baby and forgot where I had published the short story. I couldn’t find where I filed the contract. I couldn’t find the check which I vividly remember saving. I couldn’t even remember the name of the publication. It was almost as if I had slipped into a parallel universe where I had never gathered the courage to submit. Had I imagined it? Had I had a mental break and was in fact, now, wandering around in circles in a room with horrible yellow wallpaper? Was I not an author but instead a mere scribbling woman?
Today, I found the check. I can now say with confidence that “The Turkey Incident” was published in the November 2004 issues of Peeks and Valleys.
I can proudly say I am an author, a writer, and/or a scribbling woman.