At some point while gingerly walking on my writerly path, a thought occured to me. Initially it came, as most ideas do, in the form of a joke. I thought to myself: ‘Wouldn’t it be funny (READ: dope) if I were to publish short story, or a novel, in Sesotho?’.
I then handed the thought over to the idea lab in my brain to allow fermentation to take place. When Ba Re E Ne Re put out an open call for short story submissions for a Anthology in Sesotho earlier this year, I knew that it was time I re-visited the idea.
And so started the process of thinking about what story to write.
After tinkering with bits here and there, I found myself with enough words and something that approached a sensible storyline. I submitted on the night of the deadline (11.53pm on June 30, since we’re checking). In true writer fashion, I proceed to act like I was thinking nothing of it, while simultaneously considering how to celebrate if it so happened that the story got selected.
I did that until…
Congratulations Tseliso, your story has been selected for inclusion in the Lesotho Story Anthology!
The above-quoted phrase, part of a longer e-mail, was enough to send me running towards my window with the aim of breaking through it and landing outside, arms akimbo, a la Moshanyan’a Sankatane. I’m not convinced that seeing the idea through would’ve served me good, looking back, and especially considering that I’d be jumping six monumental floors down.
I didn’t do it.
I’m fuckin’ stoked that the story got selected, yes.
There’s an Indiegogo campaign Ba Re have set up, with the aim of generating funds to assist towards printing costs. Peace!
UPDATE: “Our Lesotho Story Anthology is fully funded thanks to your generous support!”