I used to be more fearless. I used to have more time. I used to believe in writing, specifically my writing.
Then, I think I spent too many years in advertising writing copy for used cars and new chairs. I spent too much time writing research papers on crime and delinquency. I spent too much time studying for tests and taking classes to teach me things I found interesting (and things I found duller than watching dry paint exist).
I need to get back to my old self. I need to get back to me.
So, I submitted a story. It will probably get rejected, because more things get rejected than accepted and because it’s been forever and because I don’t have the sorts of qualifications that don’t look great in a bio and because there is a lot of better talent out there. But, being rejected is never than having being submitted so the little story is out there learning to show its face.