Kate LSY

I’ve been doing a piss poor job of updating this blog. Not because I haven’t been writing. Quite the opposite, actually.

I’ve been banging my head and hands against the keyboard nearly everyday. And now that I’ve finally come up for air——I HAVE GRAND NEWS TO SHARE.

Earlier this year, in the thick of another self-doubt spiral (not that I’ve ever really left that stage), I decided to throw some of my work into contests. Because, you know, writing is a deeply lonely experience that sometimes I just wanted something, anything, to echo back. Feedback. A sign. Some kind of divine intervention that I’m on the right track. Proof that it matters to someone other than my partner, Ben, who’s been forced to read most of my writing. Ahem.

By the time results rolled around, months later, when I had mostly forgotten I’d even entered. Which is to say: I’d learned to live with the constant, low-grade hunger for feedback (aka, validation). #Growth.

But then…the rejection emails started to roll in. One, two, three—boom, boom, boom. Right between the eyes. I winced at the landmines Past Me had planted for Future Me to step on.

Why did I do this to myself? Why did I invite the rejection?
So when Inkwell Literary Festival emailed in October saying winners would be announced live at the award ceremony, I thought—if I’d won, surely they’d tell me… right? Right??

I’ve gotten really good at it—the disappointment-management part. The writing part…debatable. So I stayed home. Went on a hike with my dog. I couldn’t possibly risk another “thank you for trying, please try again” moment—except this time, in person. Where I’d sit in the audience, clapping politely, pretending I wasn’t crushed by the sound of hope splattering like egg yolk in a hot pan. My still very fragile writer ego needed a break.

And then, three nights later, freshly showered and scrolling in bed, I thought: I wonder who won?
And guess what? I did.

Ages 25+
1st Place. Death’s Darling Diary. (The First Life. I haven’t posted this vignette yet.)

DUN DUN DUNNNN.

I squinted for a good solid minute.
Brain: Loading…Loading…Loading…
And then I screamed.

Ben came running, along with Sunny. “What happened?!”

“I…I think I just won a writing contest,” I whispered through my fingers, wide-eyed, afraid to say it too loud in case it stopped being true.

Cue hugs. Cue tears. Cue Ben dancing around Sunny chanting: “Mama’s a real writer!” While Sunny, clueless but happy to be included, pranced and huffed out happy snorts. I just stood there blinking, wondering…Is this for real?

I had started Death’s Darling Diary as a side project, a distraction, because I was soooo stuck on the manuscript I was supposed to be working on. And yet, here we are, my first gold star on my “writing resume”. It means just as much, if not more, than any bullet on my career one.

Writing has been the loneliest adventure of my life. Like tossing messages into the void, over and over. And this time, the void ripple back.

What a wonderful feeling.
I hope I get to experience it again. And again.

Happy Writer’s Month!
Kate LSY
Aspiring Writer
(A writer is someone who writes. Not someone defined by contests or publication counts. The strikethrough is for dramatic effect only.😉)