BEATNIK BATTLES ICE AND SNOW

Just got another one. That's three rejections of my recent stories with invitations to send more work. Feels almost as good as an acceptance. Feels like I'm just under an ice surface, poking at it with an ice pick. I know where the image comes from. Wife and I recently watched first season of Fargo, the TV series. If you've seen it, you know where the ice image comes from and the thought of being trapped under the ice.

Lately, my work has stopped entirely. I live with a sort of dizzy, old age lethargy. Hard to generate a creative thought out of it. I may talk to the doctor about the dizziness, but, long ago, a doctor told me it's common with old age and likely to get worse. Over the years it has gotten worse. Too many days of it now. But, today, dizziness or not, I'm going to work on a story I began a month ago. See if I can feel my way to a creative ending, an entertaining middle, an enticing start. Of course, I can always work on the short story ms for submission to the most prestigious contests. Maybe all the stories together will generate a more positive energy. Enough to make a breakthrough.