Joe is a soft spoken individual with dark complexion and pepper hair. He has this sense of quiet urgency about him. He is a thoughtful person who seems to choose his words carefully.
"I set a goal to send out a kabillion stories this year," he said.
Okay. Not a kabillion, but over a hundred. I can't remember the number but maybe close to a kabillion. And it turns out those kabillion stories are a kabillion different stories. Some of them are being sent around to several publishers after a rejection. Still...a kabillion is a number to respect. It's the sort of number to rumble at while grabbing a crotch and glancing skyward.
I received this news from Joe and sneered. "Yeah? And how's that working out for you?"
"It's working out. I think I'm going to meet that goal."
"When is the year up?" I asked.
"I want in," I said.
Joe looked uneasily at me. We were suddenly standing under the hottest sun. A lone tumbleweed skipped with the breeze. I tilted my hat back and ran a hand across my brow.
"You want in?" he asked.
"I'm very competetive. Starting in January, we'll both do a kabillion stories."
"Kabillion and one," he said, squinting.
"Make it...Kabillion and one," I agreed.
So Duotrope and Ralans....look out. Starting in January the old Jew is going on a rampage, no market too small, no market too large. I've got a kabillion stories to push, and every step of the way that soft spoken pepper haired writer is going to be trying to beat me, pushing himself. Pushing me. Thank god I have a reservoir of work to polish and upgrade. Still. A kabillion and one...that's serious. And I have a novel to finish by April.
Jon? You want in?