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Hat Trick

Like most Americans, I don’t understand cricket.  I do know there is a batter and what we would call a pitcher who “bowls” a ball to try to knock down wickets behind the batter.  If the bowler knocks down all three wickets with successive balls, it is called a hat trick.

Hat tricks are, by definition, rare events.  According to the venerable Oxford Dictionaries on the somewhat less venerable Internet, the bowler was given a hat to commemorate the feat, thus making it a “hat” trick.  Now any three unexpected successes are called by that moniker.

I’ve been submitting to many publishers from my copious backlog of short fiction for about five years now.  For the first four years of my efforts I only found two online magazines willing to put any of my stories out there (Danse Macabre and Jersey Devil Press).  Over forty other mags turned me down.

Then, out of nowhere, a hat trick.  Three submissions accepted in a row.  I don’t expect the good bowling to continue—there are too many guys with bats out there—but I’m enjoying my new hat while I have it.

“The First Time” is due to appear on Dali’s LoveChild any day now.  In fact, the banner this morning announces that it’s available, but I can’t yet find issue 4.  “Famous Neighbors” is set to premiere on Defenestration next week.  And the dark “Angel Hunter,” is scheduled for Deep Water Literary Journal in January.



As usual, once each story appears I’ll put a post here discussing a bit more of the back-story.  Personally, I find back-story about as interesting as most published stories.  What makes the writer think this way?  What is it that triggers the idea for a story?

For me, public transit often does it.  Being in an enclosed place, closely packed with strangers, for some reason turns on my creative juices.  I write, however, when I’m alone.


So I’m enjoying my momentary victory.  Few fellow cricketers have slapped me on the back with understated “Good show, old chap”s, but I’m enjoying my brief success, as I do most special moments, alone.
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