A blog about writing and all things story…
Saturday, while packing my attic (we’re selling our house & moving) I found a box chock-full of rejection letters –-about 200.
As I glanced through them, many from as far back as 2002, I cringed, squinted my eyes closed like I was watching a horror movie, and though I’ve been published several times since then, grew deeply embarrassed.
Twelve years ago I thought, “Hey! I’ve written a book, aren’t I brilliant, who wouldn’t want to read this.”
I have since learned how brilliant I wasn’t, and burned that manuscript that nobody in their right mind would want to read, on a bonfire of other inane manuscripts.
So, Dear Literary Agent(s),
If you received any query letters from me, please forgive. Please scorch my name from your brain and the offending letter from your eyes. I know some bells can’t be un-rung, but please un-ring this one.
The least of my offenses were that I wrote hideous amateurish query letters for stories that may or may not have made any sense. I was confused about seemingly trivial things like plot –jumbled plot seemed to be my modus operandi –scenes that had nothing to do with moving the story forward, and I was very confused about what constitutes action, and equal to that confusion was my skill at writing stiff unrealistic dialogue, and so many other crimes and misdemeanors it would take all day to list them. But as I said, I am moving and have to pack, so thankfully there’s no time to make that l-o-n-g humiliating list of wrongdoings.
So for now, please forgive me my offenses against the literati. Please do not banish me forever. I am getting better. I vow to never, ever again send a poorly written query letter about a story I don’t fully comprehend myself. I will work to understand the story, write it to the best of my ability, and not until then will I send that poorly written query letter. I promise.
Thank you in advance for your forgiveness. M
(Just ‘M’. . . I didn’t sign my name here because I already asked you to burn it from your memory, so to remind would be unwise, don’t you think?)
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(re)Living History, with occasional attempts at humor and the rare pot-luck subject. Sorry, it's BYOB. All I have is Hamm's.
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