Although I have won nothing, I already feel accomplished. A considerable hump or hill or even mountain exists between the concept of submitting a short story to either a publication or a contest and the actual submission of said story to a publication or contest, at least for me. Even today after I had poured through my story multiple times checking for any hint of an error or obscene repetition, I sat there as still as glass, cursor over the “send” button, just ounces of pressure away from sending my baby off to the judges, and was afraid. Did I pick the right contest? Does my story even remotely fit their magazine? Is my story even as good I think it is? Will my email even make it across ether space? What if I’m dreaming? What if? What if? Damn it, Shrodinger! Just open the box!
So yes, I just summitted that mountain. And now for the hard part: waiting at the bottom for my carrier pigeon to return to me.