Oh, that lovely moment when a story is accepted! I had an email yesterday from a fiction editor, accepting my story and adding a few kind words. "Rewarding read" is the phrase that stuck with me. After all, if a reader has no reward, no satisfaction at the end, why would they stick with you even for 2000 words?
I have a pattern when these letters or emails from editors arrive. First, I stare blankly at the screen in surprise ('somebody likes my work!'); then I rush to my documents folder to remind myself of which story has been accepted, because I have several out at any one time and I often change titles while I work. Muttering, 'Oh, it's THAT one,' I re-read. At this moment, the work takes on a Ready Brek glow of success. I re-read, remembering bits I was fond of - and hoping they don't get cut in the editing - and experiencing a curious surprise at the bits I had forgotten - those are always the parts I admire most, because it feels as though someone else wrote them.
This story I'm particularly pleased with. It arose out of a readers' contribution in the magazine and so it was specifically written to that market; I couldn't sell it elsewhere. Risky in pure business terms, but if a story drives you on, you have to go with it. I loved writing it, I could hear my characters' voices, feel their words unfurling in my head.
This all sounds very high-flown for a short story that will be read in a week and followed by another half-dozen in next week's magazine ... not quite chip wrappings but certainly fodder for dentists' surgeries. Yet if you don't write with utter conviction, I believe it shows through. I could - and will - write another whole post on this balance of conviction and cool-headed market knowledge because I'm certain it's what sells your work.