This morning’s earworm (and blog title) are largely self-explanatory:
Why is this your earworm, Sarah?
The e-mail came late, because (presumably) the people running the contest have day jobs making this very much an evening task. It was the first time in nearly two years I got some tension/drama too, because to find out whether I’d been long-listed or not meant a click through to a website. Actually, of everything I’ve failed at thus far, this felt the most professional. This then led me to be looking at Twitter when somebody else joyfully announced they’d been long-listed for another contest, which clearly I’ve not won either.
I mentioned to Julia the last time I saw her that this weekend had the potential to be rough, because March 1st clearly is when lots of people wake up properly after Christmas and the wheels of competitive industry start properly grinding for the year. It meant that yesterday I added FOUR new potential means of failure to my Submissions Deadlines calendar. It became apparent a few months ago I need a visual list of dates, or else I just forget what matters. Now I have it, June’s already packed.
Instead of taking March completely off (it transpires a few days of not thinking too hard was all I really needed) I’ve scheduled 4 poems and a short story, plus a proposal for becoming a Poet in Residence. On top of that there’s a second proposal to send off tomorrow on top of the fiction project which, amazingly, seems to be moving under its own steam fairly well. That’s being earmarked as complete before one of my new June cut-off points.
What this month will be remembered for is learning the next skill level of ‘Multi-Function Organisation’ because the second Twitter account really has become a godsend. There’s also, very crucially, an emergent mental ability to be able to switch between two very distinct worlds. It’s a bit of a shock when they suddenly overlap, but the fact they do is a salutatory reminder of how small a world this really is. If you know creatives, there’s a good chance that overlaps exist in circles of association even you weren’t aware of.
That means, that like it or not, knowing when to keep quiet is a life skill I really need to keep practising. It also meant an apology was sent last night via email that many would consider unnecessary, but I still believe was essential. A lot has happened in the last 24 hours that I’m still attempting to process. How that affects things going forward is still unclear, but there’s an awful lot to think about. Good public conduct is essential as a professional. Knowing who’s reading is also fairly important to the responses you then present.
Nobody said any of this was going to be easy.