When I think of fireworks, I think of the pretty, high-in-the-sky, sparkly kind (and not the loud argument kind). I love them all: the big, gold, willow tree ones, the multicolored crackly ones, the tiny little ones that make popping sounds and produce quick flashes of light. To me, there’s no disappointing kind of display (although I will admit, I adore the purple ones). Fireworks are just cheerful and fun.
It’s been kind of a, well, hellish month in my neck of the woods. I’ve packed my office at work to prepare for rumored layoffs (they haven’t materialized, thankfully), my car died (for good this time, which is important as it’s “died” about 412 times before this), a number of other small yet unpleasant things happened, and I found myself in a general funk. Usually, I’m pretty good about taking a deep breath and shaking off the negative thinking, but lately I wasn’t really able to do it. On July 4, which happened to be fireworks day here, it rained. Buckets. *sigh*
But, then, as so often happens, the sun came out, which always makes me happy. Our family attended a beautiful fireworks show on July 5th. And on July 6th, I finally saw the email that had been in my email since the previous day (but was hiding amidst the volumes of junk email), the one that caused a whole internal fireworks show for me: “Congratulations! We are delighted to accept your story, “Waves of Deception” for publication. . .” Yay! YAY!
It is amazing how uplifting even the smallest bit of good news can be. In this case, being published is a BIG piece of news for this fledgling writer. The first time you receive an acceptance letter is definitely cause for celebration. I shared with everyone, and then when the book came out, I carried a copy around with me for months (just in case anyone wanted to see it, of course). But, when I got a rejection for the next piece I submitted, I experienced some major self-doubt. What if I just got lucky the first time? What if I was the only one that wrote a story on the right topic/of the right length/with the right title, and it wasn’t actually all that good? Oy! So, having a second story accepted for publication, especially a very, very different kind of story, makes me feel like maybe, just maybe, I am good at this. And that feeling causes a whole different kind of internal fireworks for me.
(Oh, and we finally bought a new car–maybe not fireworks-worthy, but there was a happy dance or two, for sure!)