How Do You Measure Growth? – Beginning of Oct 2024

Last month marked a milestone for me. Ten years ago, I got my first fiction story published. Prior to that, I had a couple of non-fiction pieces published, but nothing else. I was happy to realize that I was still on this journey, writing and publishing. I’ve had bumps along the way, but I’m still picking up the pen (or booting up the computer) to get the story down. I mentioned this to my mother, and I had an epiphany.

I had real, measurable growth in the past ten years.

My first two stories were published in two anthologies. I knew the editor and she had encouraged me to submit. I had a pretty good feeling that I would be accepted (about 90%). It was a good beginning and I was happy to finally have some stories out in the world to show people. My family could have something in their hands that would prove that I was a “real” writer. (I should note that no one ever made me feel bad about being unpublished. It was just nice to show them after all the years of talking about it.) It was good for my ego too. I had two books in my hands that listed me as a contributor. Humble as they may be, it was a start.

My next two stories came out in 2018 and 2019. These were two stories that I had workshopped in grad school. They had gone through multiple revisions and had at least a dozen people comment on the work. Both had been rejected from 20 or so places, but I persisted because I believed in them. They, at last, found a home and I was proud of both of them. The growth aspect came from the editors. They were complete strangers. These folks received submissions all the time. My stories had been good enough to convince them to publish me.

And, finally, we get to the two stories that got accepted this year. Both of these stories were written after I graduated. No workshopping (but I do have a critic group and they read over and commented on both stories) and no prior relationship with the editors.

Folks, I’m off the training wheels and riding this bike on my own! I may be slow on this journey, but I’m getting there.

The growth in my writing career is there. I can see it, but it is only obvious when I look back over the years. In a snapshot of a year or two, you won’t see much. But ten years later? Yeah, there is movement. It’s a reminder to me that a writing career is a marathon, not a sprint.

I’m still on this journey and I’ve made progress.