Sunday, October 10, 2004
The Worst Writing Sin?
I wrote the story of Leo, a hit man who is given the job of killing his old friend and accomplice. He waits in his friends flat at a table with a bowl of daffodils on it, and when his pal comes home, they have a conversation that results in some history being revealed and Leo kills him. Before he leaves, he throws the daffodils on the body.
I think it’s a good piece, full of nervous energy and tension, though probably not good enough to win anything. But the story was written precisely for that competition so I wanted to make sure it got entered before submitting elsewhere as a normal piece of fiction.
When I checked my subs folder, true enough – the piece was still there with the stamped envelopes ready to go. I couldn’t believe it. I am such a pillock.
Lesson learnt - this will never happen again.