Shoot Me Now. You'll Be Glad You Did.

My application for the MA program is due tomorrow. Well the first of four that I'm thinking of applying to, which happens to be the one I'd really like to attend.

Inexplicably, this message has already appeared in my inbox ...

Thank you for submitting your application to join the MA Creative Writing (Novels). Your application will be processed. We will be in touch regarding how you can track your application status on-line.

Oh fuckedy fuck. Now I'm in the game, and ahead of schedule by one whole day.

This is not like me at all.

Okay then.

First, thanks to everyone (bloggers* and non**) who have put up with me over the past few days/weeks. I know I've been a trifle neurotic (even for moi), but I truly appreciate your comments, edits, pats on the back, and "oh you're a big mess, just shut up and press SUBMIT" support while you helped me through the following quasi-crises:

• How do I chop down a 700-word personal statement down to the prescribed 200-word maximum? (It ended up at a concise 199, and I'm very grateful to you all, especially a certain military mom who wields a mean axe-like red pen).




• Oh shit, my fiction submission (the one that my tutor-of-choice recommended) is only 2,200 words and I've just realized the precis is for 5,000 ... as opposed to "up to 5,000' ... words. Dang. Do I send two short pieces that don't come close to 5,000 words? Three pieces? Do I send a longer piece that worked well in an online workshop but hasn't been selected by a committee? ***




• What should the title of the longer piece be, because at the eleventh hour I'm having a crisis of faith over its working title (which I was never really pleased with)?****

And now we've got that all done and dusted. At least until the next wave of neuroses begin. Tide reports indicate those will be in shortly and should be include ...

• Either I'm going to be rejected (oh, god, why am I not good enough?) or asked to have an interview (oh god, I'm so not good enough).




• If I get the interview I'll either be given a thanks but no thanks (oh, god, why am I not good enough?) or a welcome to the program (oh god, I'm so not good enough ... the rest of the applicants must have been shit this year and they only want my money) and ...
  

• Oh fuck, I have to write a novel!

Don't worry y'all. It should only be like this for the next couple years so, unless y'all are lying to me and I don't get into one of these programs. In which case, it will be more of the same, just without the I'm-too-old-to-be-in-grad-school moaning.

Stay tuned.

* You know you you are and you don't need any more linky-love.

** You should be blogging yourself ... and I'd gladly give you some linky-love.

*** Actually, I'm quite pleased with this 4,500-word story, and it's previously been submitted for publication. If you want to read it, let me know. Or wait and pay for it. (Ha, how's that for supreme arrogance positive thinking?)

**** It's now called "Rip Tide", which I came up with on my own after a few post-editing pints careful deliberation and I'm happy with that. All things considered. "Boys and Gills" ran a close second, so thanks for that.