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.