It’s been five days since I’ve blogged. At times I feel guilty about skipping a day or two. But then I remember that I’m basically doing this for my own benefit and not to amass a gazillion readers. Although that would be nice.
But I’m immersed in a literary project for my son’s university’s press. It requires reading manuscripts that were submitted in the hope of publication. I know how that feels as I have been on that side of the table more than once.
It’s interesting to be on the other side. To be in a position to say “Yeah” or “Nay” as to whether a manuscript should then move to the next level of examination. A “Nay” at my level means it won’t.
I have 30 manuscripts to preview by September 30. In the spirit of full disclosure, I’ve had them since July; so nobody should feel sorry for me that this past week and this coming weekend are filled with reading them.
And while it impacts my own writing, I learn so much from reading what other hopefuls submit that it’s worth not blogging for a few days. After all, as I said at the beginning, I do it primarily for me.
And maybe for my children. Because when I’m gone, there are fifteen years of entries that have chronicled my life during that time.