Today could be a good day.
Today could be a bad day.
I'm not sure if today could be just any day, at least not for me.
I wrote a six page short story for my English class over the weekend. Monday, when I went to class I told the teacher that I could do the presentation of the story at any time. I guess I'm the only one that had finished it thus far. Towards the end of the class she tells me to email her the story and that she would email it to the other 8 people in the class so they could all read it and comment on it Wednesday (today).
The last time my fiction has been read out loud or read by people (other than on the internet) was when I was in 9th grade. I wrote a short story then about a guy exploring an old pirate ship (I was a big Goonies fan back then). And while I got a good response I have never had the chance (except online) to share my fiction with a group of people since then.
Am I nervous? Never. Someone told me once that writers had to be biased about their work; they had to consider it the greatest work since the days of Homer. That bravado, regardless of how misplaced it might be, is essential to getting published. While writing, regardless of the topic or genre, the author bares his/ her very soul, even if you don't think you are. Without that ability you can never get published; without that bull-headed pompous attitude toward the superiority of your work you will never be read. So no, I am not nervous, I will walk in there (2 1/2 hours from now) with my head held high knowing that I created a great piece of literature and if (which I doubt there will be) there is harsh critique then fuck them, and if there is constructive critique, then lesson learned.
Anyhow, I have bored you enough with this drivel so I shall conclude. However, if you are interested in reading said fiction I am going to post it in a new tab at the top of the page entitled 'The Black Tree'. I am going to because it is the greatest story written since the days of Homer! Maybe.