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Cathy C. Hallhttps://cathychall.wordpress.com/I write, write, write. Then I rewrite, rewrite, rewrite. THEN I submit all those polished-up words out into the world and sell 'em. It's a plan that's worked pretty well.

A Tale of Two Goals

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It is the best of times; it is the worst of times, to paraphrase Mr. Dickens. Worst of times may be stretching it, as I hardly think the first-of-the-month writing-reckoning can compare to getting your head chopped off in a revolution. But turning the calendar to the new month always seems like the best of times. Goal-setting giddiness is upon me.

Since I’m a very goal-oriented person, I use goals to achieve Fame and Fortune on my Road to Publication. For example, I may say to myself, “Self, you must finish at least one chapter of your book today. Then, and only then, are you allowed to leave this chair and take a shower. And maybe grab a Milky Way to eat along the way to bathing.”

Mr. Hall is not too keen on shower-taking being a writing goal. Come to think of it, the Milky Way goal doesn’t work very well when he’s around, either. But that is not the point. The point is the goal-setting. So getting back to that, the first day of the month is a time to check markets, when publishing hopes spring eternal! Unfortunately, that day coincides with my writing-reckoning.

To put it another way, that’s when I reckon I’ve been rejected. Sometimes it’s spelled out for you: “If you haven’t heard from us by (insert first of month date here) you can assume we have passed on your submission.”

Well, there’s no mistaking that one, is there? Other times, it’s a little wishy-washy: “We have so many submissions, we can’t possibly read them all, much less reply. If you still want to submit, please realize that you probably won’t hear from us unless you are John Updike. And even then, there are days when we are in a very un-John Updike kind of mood. Attention John Updike: You may hear something from us around the first of the month. Or not.”

Naturally, I submit. Because, like I said, I have goals to reach. And being rejected by at least 10 markets a month is (apparently) one of them. However, I also have a goal of being accepted by at least one market a month. When that happens, I treat myself to two Milky Ways (and possibly a nice leg-shaving in the shower).

Finding Fame Along a Road Having Little To Do With Publication

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I found myself, along with my cousin and her husband, on a road in downtown Atlanta where a Ted’s Montana Grill sign hangs. Seemed like a grand place to dine, so in we went, squeezing into our lovely booth overlooking a buffalo head (or maybe I should say bison head? I’m never quite sure).

“There’s Ted now!” says Archie (my cousin’s husband). Ha ha ha! That Archie’s such a card. When around the corner of the booth strides Ted Turner (who, I might add, is very tall, up close and personal like that).


“Hi, Ted!” we call out, shaking hands and such. “Ted,” says Janie (the cuz), “I just happen to have my camera!” Out of the seat she scoots to get a picture with the very tall media mogul and ex-Braves owner. (Doesn’t Janie look nice? Doesn’t Ted look nice? Don’t the two look nice together? Time to move on.)

Ted was gracious and patient with the scene we were making. “That’s the great thing about celebrities,” said my cuz, “you can call them by their first name, just like you’ve known them all your life!” And right there, sitting in Ted’s Montana Grill, my delicious bison meatloaf blue plate special steaming on the table, I knew I’d found the hallmark of Fame. When the day comes that I’m walking down the street (or strolling around a restaurant) and someone I don’t know from Adam’s housecat yells out, “Hey Cathy!” just like we’re bosom buddies, then I’ll be famous.

I know if I saw Dave Barry on the street, I’d holler, “Dave! Hey, Dave! How’s it going, man?” He might keep on walking. He might even call the police on the crazy lady screaming his name. But at least he’d know he was famous.