The Golden Hours

So, here’s a bit of last year’s news. Another tiny victory – and if you’ve been following my blog for a while or even since forever, you know that writing successes, no matter how small, don’t happen very often and when they do, I celebrate. Look at my smug, happy face:

Picture credit: Britta Benson. Attempt at selfie. Well…

You’ll also know, that there can be quite a gap between submission and holding the finished products in my greedy paws. If my writing ambitions have taught me one thing, then it’s this: Patience. Patience. Patience.

Here goes: Yesterday was the book launch of ‘The Golden Hours’. An anthology of prose and poems from both emerging writers and established authors (and I’m afraid, there’s no points for guessing which category I’m in…) on the theme of ‘Gathering’ produced by the Edinburgh Literary Salon.

I submitted a poem last summer, as per usual, never heard a thing back, and then forgot about it. After all, most submissions end in silence, often not even a rejection. Around Christmas time, I received the acceptance email, yay! And another eight months later, hurrah! The book is finally a real object. So is the pay cheque that came with it. And I have already spent most of the money made on more books and theatre tickets. Call it investment.

So last night, at the book launch, I read my piece out loud. I’m getting better at enjoying this moment of ‘You’re it!’ in the spotlight. Also, it’s a very personal poem about a memory with my mum and nearly exactly four years after her death, reading it out loud felt like a very fitting tribute to her. No pressure, then, right?

One thing I noticed yesterday: While I still feel like I don’t belong amongst all these wonderful writers reading out their stunningly beautiful pieces, I now also no longer feel like I don’t belong. Seems weird. Might be progress.

Here’s the poem, in case you’re interested:

Picture credit: Britta Benson

Picture credit: Britta Benson

Happy Wednesday to you all, and I’ll see you here tomorrow, if you wish!

©️2023 Britta Benson. No unauthorized use permitted.