It was a normal day...

...until I discovered that a new lady moved in my complex and she has a pug named Bruce. When she asked the name of my pug, I hesitated. It's such a big mess to say "Telemachus." People never say, "That's cute." They say, "What the hell does that mean? Why would you name a dog that? Do you actually call him that?" Anyway, I wanted to make up a new name for Telemachus. I want Bruce to like him and all. Telemachus doesn't have many pug friends. I almost said, "Fred" or "David," but I couldn't lie. Only time will tell if Bruce is allowed to be friends with a hooligan named Telemachus.

When I returned home and checked my email, I found out that New York Quarterly is taking a poem of mine. That has always been a dream magazine of mine. I'm so happy that I don't even care if my neighbors think I'm strange. I mean, who names their dog Bruce, right?

About Rejection

I decided about six months ago that I wanted to submit to The New York Quarterly. They get a ridiculous amount of submissions a month yet they still accept simultaneous submissions and they respond within six weeks. Once, they rejected me within 10 days. This time though, I made it to the second tier. Sweet rejection, how I love checking the mail.