You read it right! But no, not the novel. That’s still lingering out there in the ether, in the hands of three agents who expressed interest. (More likely, in a pile on the desk of those three different agents.) But that is neither here nor there. (What a strange saying.) What is here. And there, I suppose, is the purpose of this post. Celebration!
I’ve had a story accepted by a small literary publication called The Rusty Nail. It’s a short story, called “Bedtime.” It’s actually a very sad story, and is part of the group of things I did when I set about exploring my greatest fears. I figured that the things I’m most afraid of, if I dared to write about them, might evoke some passion that would be evident on the page. (Since I’m a parent, you can probably imagine what those fears entail.)

Anyway, this is my first publication since I set out to be “a real writer.” I have work in lots of magazines, but that’s all journalistic wine and travel-type stuff (written under my real name.) This is the first fiction credit I can claim, and I’m very excited about it.

Just wanted to share… since these moments don’t come often!