My brother has a knack of cracking an egg on to a pizza and cooking it and voila, a beautiful baked egg is delivered atop the pizza. Last night I thought I’d copy his trick and top off my lack lustre shop bought pizza with an egg.
And yes you’ve guessed it, the result was not dissimilar to a minor disaster.
The egg, obviously not fresh enough, ran away from the pizza, slipped and slid through the open fretwork of the pizza tray and disassembled itself across several rungs of wire shelves, an empty dish and on to the gas flame to be burned off, skilfully.
It made me laugh, it made me cry!
And this seems to be where my experience of entering my work into writing competitions in real life reflects small unrelated events at home. Whilst I know I can not please everybody most of the time I don’t seem to achieve the desired outcome when I deliver my work to a writing competition. It just doesn’t seem to be my thing. Well… not yet.
This week I’ve received three refusals, and whilst all emails were well written and well intended, ‘the standard was high, the volume of entries too great to allow a personal response/critique, don’t be downhearted, etc,’ it left me feeling… c’est la vie!
So I’m trying not to be down hearted and I’ve no right to be crestfallen as the lovely people at Ether Books have published another short story of mine this week. For this I’m extremely grateful. But there are times when my work does feel like that egg, the one that slipped away, got lost in the flames of aspiration.
I’d love to know how you get on in writing competition’s and wonder how you feel about the responses?
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