“Dear Author”
I actually received a letter today that began that way. It’s my first official acceptance letter from a publisher, and it’s a special one. I sold an article to the Ensign. It seems so wonderful and strange to type that; I still can’t believe it. It hasn’t been scheduled for a particular issue yet, and it’s hard to be patient. I can’t wait to hold it in my hands on shiny paper all part of a ‘real magazine,’ not even considering that it’s that magazine. On the one hand, I’m proud of myself for finally making it to print, but on the other I’m just overwhelmingly humbled, like I get vaguely sick to my stomach when I think about it too long kind of humbled, like that I can’t believe I did it kind of humbled. Well, come to think of it, I didn’t really do it; at least, I didn’t initially mean to do it.
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