So I sent off my short story last night. It turned into a monster of a project and I will not be posting it here (for reasons stated below). If anyone is interested I'll be happy to share the polished version at the end of the semester--just email me. Accomplishing months of work (at least the way I write) in less than two weeks is both heady and frightening. I have no idea if what I sent him was any good or not.
The title of the story is "Chroma" and it's about an elderly painter named Lily who has moved into a cottage near her daughter-in-law and son who run a resort. We never actually meet Lily herself, but get to know her through her daughter-in-law's eyes beginning the morning that Jenny knocks on the door of Lily's cottage to find her gone. The only clues to her whereabouts are in a box in her bedroom and the paintings she created in the two months before her disappearance.
Though I've never apologized in so many words to Mr. Stokes for anything, he's a bright fellow and seems to recognize my terrible habit of doing so too often and has called me on it three times now. At forty-six I'm finally beginning to see why I do this--it's a hold over from a childhood with constantly angry, impossible to please parents. I don't think I realized it was that apparent--even in print.
In any case, I thought you'd appreciate the exchange.
Stop apologizing! I haven't even read the thing yet :-)
I'm sure it will be fine. Have a good break!