I haven’t heard back from The New Yorker, but it’s only been a couple weeks. Their submission guidelines warned me that I could wait up to six months for a response, but my defense mechanisms require I stand detached and distant from hope as there are many, many writers who write...buttloads better’n me. The Sun will have the next honor of receiving my prose. It’s less well known than The New Yorker, but it values personal essays, and though mine is only a few simple pages of my jiggling ding-dong, I find it very agreeable.
Wish me luck.