No, no, no--don't get excited. I didn't finish the first Emerson story (yet).
But what I did finish was a short story. I'd heard about a Writer's Digest short story contest whose deadline is in November, and I've been wanting to enter. But I'm not usually a short story writer--oh no, I get these grandiose plans not just for books, but for 7-book series! I don't have any short stories on hand that I could just submit. So I had to write one.
The idea came to me the other morning. "She likes to win," I heard the voice in my head telling me. But I didn't know who it meant, or what was being won. But soon enough, I did. My brain sorted it all out and I wrote down a bunch of notes. And then today I glanced at those notes and wrote the story in under 2 hours--yes, that's including editing.
I'm happy with the story. It's very, very me. Edgy and twisted and weird and focused on the things I write about best.
Submitting this story for the contest is not about winning. It's about having an idea, writing it well, and creating a finished product that I'm proud of. I've done that, so in my mind, I've already won. If I win any prizes, well, that's just the icing on the cake.
For all the shit I constantly give myself for never seeming to write enough, that inner critic is silenced today. Today I did enough, and I'm proud.