Yesterday, I performed a very slight error; a technical boo-boo. It started when I realized that a submission I had made for a specific issue of a magazine had gone unanswered, and the issue in question had already been published--without my receipt of any formal rejection.
"Well," I thought, "screw them!" And off the story went to another market.
A few minutes later, I thought: why the heck didn't I just write them an e-mail to make sure they weren't holding the story over for another look at a later date? So, off went a very kindly-worded query.
Obviously, the horrible image that was conjured in my mind--the image that made me send the query to be doubly-sure--was a fantasy of the first order: two magazines simultaneously deciding to buy my story. Would that really happen to an unpublished scribbler like me? Especially this story, a predictable, goofy flash piece I wrote more than a year ago. I mean, really? Need I think so highly of myself?
Anyway, the panic subsided very quickly. After all: if my worst fears come true... I could actually think of many worse things to occur to me.
Zombie dragons, for example.