‘Eight Seconds’: my first story in an awesome, illustrated anthology :-)
Pandora Hope|10 January 2016
Pivotal moments in a normal life: birth, graduation, first tax return, shacking up, nappies, the end. Pivotal moments in a writer’s life: your first rejection slip, your first published story in a magazine, your second rejection slip (more depressing than the first), your first story in a great, big, fat, gorgeous anthology bulging with writers you’ve been following with awe and envy…
It’s happened. ‘She Walks in Shadows’ has just hit Australian shores and I’m holding a copy in my hot little hands (it’s always hot here, so I’m trying not to get sweat smears on the gorgeous cover.) I check the contents page for the tenth time to make sure my name is really there. Yep. ‘Eight Seconds’ by Pandora Hope. It’s still there, snuggled amongst the stories of some of my favourite dark fantasy and horror writers.
So the world holds its breath. Nobody else notices, but I do. In the age of online publishing, there is something special about holding a beautiful book in your hands. Especially one with your story in it.
Creation—if only it were this easy
Pandora Hope|5 January 2016
This article is strictly for newbies. It’s a confession and a lament. It is about what happens BEFORE your first novel is selling millions (thousands? dozens?) on Amazon. Before you even have a novel—or perhaps even a complete short story.
It is, in other words, about beginnings.
At least, it’s a warts and all tale of my experience as a ‘beginner’, a ‘newbie writer’. I know that you are out there, fellow writing babies, sweating, screaming, or, in some rare cases, absolutely serene. The serene ones can tune out now. You’re on the side of the gods. Creation is a breeze! Seven days, pfft! You could do a story in a weekend.
This post is for the rest of us. The dispossessed. The ones with enough reject slips to paper a wall. We are not fans of the creation myth.
So if a blank piece of paper (or blank screen) brings you out in a sweat, know that you are not alone. You’re not going to trumpet your failures on Twitter or Facebook, but maybe they’re showing a little behind your brave smile. I see you (and yes, I hate those phenomenal success stories on Facebook and Twitter as much as you do). Okay, nobody said the world was fair, but no-one prepared you for this degree of suffering. Failure is a bitter thing. Continue reading