I entertain a fantasy that someday I'll be a published writer. When I say this out loud, my husband always responds with, "You are a published writer." I find it adorable that he considers some articles that appeared in the "All About U" section of the of the Burlington County Times proof that I'm a real writer. The Times asked its female readership to submit stories. I sent a narrative, and so did most of the other women in my creative writing class. I suspect that all writers who sent something had their work published since all the gals in my class had their chronicles printed alongside mine. I tell my husband that none of my several submissions, which appeared in the short lived "All About U" section of the paper counted, because I didn't get paid. So here I am, the smallest of small time writers, out of a volunteer job, because the Times eliminated the "All About U" feature. I suppose I could start a blog.
