What a rush!
Over the last six weeks, [CORRECTION: SWMBO says it's a good thing I wasn't an accountant - "last ten weeks"] I've posted nine shorts - NOT written, just final edits and posting. For at least a couple, iterations dating to 2013 are on the hard drive. Most were in near-final form by 2015.
So, what's the feeling? What's the rush?
The reason I write is to tell the stories that keep bubbling out of my imagination. I don't expect to ever make a dime from them, but I get to TELL them. Frankly, a telling isn't completed until someone hears/reads it. I am grateful that "scifistories.com" exists as a place for the reading part to happen - thanks Lazeez.
After sitting on them for years, these stories are seeing the light of day. And that is a rush, at least for me. There is still a couple dozen to finalize and move forward. After that, who knows. But for now, I'll just sit back and enjoy both the feeling and the rush.
Crowbar's 1970 release hit the big times in '71, the year they finally threw me out of high school. And the song is still right on. Funny that the grandkids don't connect the skinny radical with wire-rims and wild hair to the pudgy old gramps who patiently takes them to test (fifth time lucky for one of them) for their learner's. If they only knew …