Speck

What's this? A post? I don't believe it. Yeah, sorry guys, it's just me again. I haven't got anything truly interesting to say, but that's okay. I'm pretty sure I'm talking to myself anyway. After all, I am just a little Farkas. So last week my friend gets me on AIM and tells me about this one-shot online literary journal that was accepting submissions. The cut off date was extended to April 3rd and she wanted me to submit since she had already been accepted. After two days of staring at my most recent story I finally got around to submitting three stories and a poem. Guess which one got accepted? The poem. If anyone of you has been paying attention to my random and rather awful rants you should know that I don't do poetry. Not well, at least. This poem was a fluke that I kind of liked so I sent it in. None of my short stories were accepted, it was just the poem. So this leaves me wondering, where did I go wrong as a fiction writer? What was wrong with my short stories that they weren't worthy of publication and yet my poem was? What sense does this make? The only things I can think of, in my infinite vanity, is that they either didn't fit the themes well enough, or they had too many short stories and not enough poems. I'm leaning towards the latter. Meh, whatever. The point of this solid block of text is that I'm being published in an online literary journal called Speck. So you should totally check it out.

That's it. Farkas out.