Editors email me in the late evening, when I’m wiping down the counter, when my son is telling me about superhero motivation in film. I hear the notifications from my phone across the room, but I don’t want to disrupt the engaged teenager before me, who so expertly and devoutly critiques these super-human characters who, to both him and me, are quite real. Still, I need to check my phone.
Excuse me, I say. Just a second, I say.
And just like that, I hug this blossoming film critic because an editor from Mid-American Review is “crazy” about my story and wants to publish it, and is it still available?
Yes! I type. I am so happy, I type because it’s always such a thrill to have created this little make-believe world, a world that others then step into and enjoy enough that they want to offer that experience to others.
