So, sometime during the hiatus between #1 being out and #2 being conceived, I was sitting in a hotel lobby at the tail end of an East Coast convention while everyone was trundling past me dragging wheelie suitcases and hugging everybody else goodbye - I was waiting, literally, for my own turn at this, since my own flight out was much later and I still had hours to find an intellingent occupation to indulge in... so, of course, I started a story.
The story didn't seem to have any problems at all with shyness or self-consciousness, and came streaming out onto the keyboard more or less at the speed of thought. It was about a train, and the tracks I saw in my mind's eye were those that connected Rye and Westchester to New York City, along which I'd had cause to ride several times that weekend. Out it came, and I had the first draft before I rose from my seat in the hotel lobby - I polished it up and finished it on the flight home, and had the complete and submission-ready draft by the time I got home.
But there was a catch. It was a good story, and I liked it quite a bit, but it was *written for a purpose*. Even on that plane, as I was polishing the facets, I was thinking, "This is for Dark Faith. This is for Dark Faith 2."
And so, when the new antho was announced and I received an email from the editors (if you go here, you will see the stats and the breakdown - I was one of those solicited writers, one of 8 whose stories were accepted in the end...) I offered this thing up, and I basically told the editors that this story was theirs, had always been theirs, had been created - if you want - on "faith", waiting, hoping, that the new antho would come and that I would have a chance of being included in it.
This was a story of faith indeed, on so many levels, and I cannot begin to tell you how utterly utterly utterly delighted I am to be in this collection.
Well, but maybe I can.
Look again at the title of this blog post. Says it all, really.