Selling Out.

What's done is done.

Many moons ago,following the suggestion of a friend, I submitted a chunk of stories to different magazines. I had gathered a list and after carefully perusing their guidelines, chose a few that I felt may be interested.I knew that , if any were chosen for publication, I would recieve monetary compensation.


I received a lovely letter from one publication, thanking me for my submission and informing me that my story was being considered.

I thought "YAY".

Then I read all the lovely fine print reminding me that upon publication, the story was the sole property of said magazine, open to editing and review by their writers and that I could pretty much kiss all rights to my story... Good-bye.

Hmmm.

I'm not sure how I feel about it.

Part of me is - "Hey, they want to pay me for my ramblings. All's good."
The other part is mourning the fact that the story being considered was a favorite of mine (I am not surprised that this is the one that was picked) and that I no longer have any claim to it.
Family is excited. I am too, although I have warned them that the story is a bit tawdry and that I am uncertain what editing and re-writing changes may have occured.
Shoot, the more I think about it,I'm not sure if it'll even BE my story. It may be a ghost of what I originally intended it to be. That's dis-heartening.

So now I can't help feeling that I should have held onto my work. Not that I really hold out any hope of compiling my stories into a book and getting that out, but I do have a ton of ideas and who knows what the future holds.

Was selling a piece of myself worth $250???

Security!!!!!

My goodness. This place was locked up tighter than Fort Knox. Tis all my fault I suppose. It would appear that it is a crime to forget your gmail password. Yup, a crime punishable by repeated aggravations of attempting to answer your security question and typing in random "case-sensitive" letters to retrieve said password.

I understand and had I been on my second cuppa coffee, I would have been less likely to get so bent out of shape. However, my accidentally closing the blog I was going to put here, without saving, in an effort to open the numerous "help pages", lead me to curse like a sailor.

Not appropriate anger management.

But what are you gonna do. The very same measures that rally against you are the ones that you later end up thanking your lucky stars for.

Take flying.

Following the devastating fallout of 9/11, airlines began screening passengers much more diligently...supposedly.
Removing shoes, opening bags, wand screens- all became common place. Limits on what could be "carried on" were set and the public breathed a sigh of relief.

Then some gumball caught his crotch on fire and some 4 year old ended up on a watch list.
Go figure.

Though I must admit, If my family is going on a plane, I want the whole shubang X-rayed, top to bottom. I want dossiers on the entire flight crew, manifests on the passengers, the whole enchilada. And I would have no problem with others expecting the same from me. I have nothing to hide *shifty*...much.

With technology becoming so advanced, there are bound to be more protocols put into effect. Before you know it, we'll all be sitting in our seats , eating our pretzels, buck-naked.


Ha...My friend's World Domination Plot will finally come to fruition. Now, I understand.