In some ways, I feel like throwing my words out into cyberspace and the sea of submissions is like tossing pennies into the void. Most of the time, no one will even notice the splash of my middling ink. And the older I get, the more I begin to wonder if it isn't better to live one's life as elusive as Enya, weaving lyrical dreams in solitude beyond the reach of the mundane world . . .
But I suppose if I keep tossing pennies, I'll end up with a very shiny corner.
