Author: Jackie Pick

Jackie Pick is a former teacher and current writer living in the Chicago area. She is a contributing author to multiple anthologies, including Multiples Illuminated, So Glad They Told Me: Women Get Real about Motherhood, Here in the Middle, as well as the and the literary magazines The Sun and Selfish. She received Honorable Mention from the Mark Twain House and Museum for her entry in the Royal Nonesuch Humor Writing Competition. Jackie is a contributing writer at Humor Outcasts, and her essays have been featured on various online sites including McSweeney's, Belladonna Comedy, Mamalode, The HerStories Project, and Scary Mommy. A graduate of the University of Chicago and Northwestern University, Jackie is co-creator and co-writer of the award-winning short film Fixed Up, and a proud member of the 2017 Chicago cast of Listen To Your Mother.

Plunge.

Today, while Little Little was at school for a whopping two hours, I worked on a draft. It’s over 2000 words and something that I am actually loving it. More precisely, I’m not loathing it. It needs some discipline, a nice trim, and a hug maybe.

I’ve decided to submit it for publication. It’s time to learn that process. It’s time to do that.

While this piece is out speed dating an editor (or a few. Or a hundred.) I will be writing more pieces and sending them out. Lather, rinse, repeat. My biggest challenge, still as always, is getting the ideas.  As mentioned, I always envy those writers who have so many stories to tell.  I have long dry spells followed by intense (and happy) writing periods once an idea has been prompted. I’ve wished often for

I am also going to start working on writing a show. I’ve got at least one writing partner on board. I can’t wait to meet with her and get started.  I have songs, ideas, blackouts and scenes, themes and whispers I want to start to share, flesh out, and bring to life.  In the weeks and months from now that we’re ready to stage it, I may be in it. I may not. But it’s exhilarating and, as it hasn’t gotten beyond a this stage, it is currently perfect.

I’m still here, though. Where else do I get to be so unformed, undisciplined, uninhibited?