Letter Twenty-eight

February 29, 2008

Dear Editor:
Please forgive my ungracious lapse yesterday; Leap Year, and the arrival of new management at Fashion Hut coupled with a fantastic demotion to third second assistant took most of my time. That, and my spouse's screaming.

On a lighter note, I'm simply thrilled that you want to read FROM DUSK TIL DAYBREAK in its entirety. Please note that DUSK contains a moderate level of graphic sexual detail, particularly during the opening scenes at the convent orphanage. The donkey is negotiable.

Sincerely,


U.S. Writer

Letter Twenty-seven

February 27, 2008

Dear Editor:
I'd like to address the issue you mentioned with the ending of STORM OF BLOOD.

Jake pushed open the front door and then hurried
inside. Even the rain couldn't dampen his excitement; Mike was coming for dinner. The thought made him smile. It had been eight years since he'd had a guest and he wanted Mike to feel at home. Jake knew the truth behind Mike's visit but he didn't care. Nothing mattered except the sturdy oak table and the placement of the pearl handled knives on the vinyl tablecloth. He lit the candles, then stood back to admire the light gleaming from the twin hurricanes. Beyond
the windows, the storm raged.

He smiled. When Mike arrived, the storm would cleanse them both.

Although I disagree that the original ending is 'vague', I took your sage advice and came up with a slightly different ending.

Jake is a nutbag. He kills Mike on the dining table.
THE END.

Let me know what you think.

Sincerely,

U.S. Writer

Letter Twenty-six

February 26, 2008

Dear Editor:
You asked me to give you an idea of where my novel fits in genre fiction. DUSK TIL DAYBREAK fits somewhere in between Anne of Green Gables and Silence of the Lambs.
Hope that helps.

Sincerely,

U.S. Writer

Letter Twenty-Five

February 25, 2008

Dear Editor:
I' m sorry to hear you find STORM OF BLOOD excessively violent, profane, and "experimental" in nature. While the Geek Squad picks concrete out of my laptop, please consider the enclosed short story, BRAINS ON THE PAVEMENT.

Sincerely,

U.S. Writer

Letter Twenty-Four

February 24, 2008

Dear Editor:
Now that I am out of the burn unit I look forward to being able to sit in a chair again. You will hear from me soon.

Sincerely,

U.S. Writer

Letter Twenty-Three

February 23, 2008

Dear Editor:
RE: your note dated 2.19.08
Could you please explain, ‘we don’t publish sloppy, hasty, slight fiction’?

While I wait eighteen months for your response, please consider the 25,000 word novel I wrote last night, THE ICICLE CRIMINAL.

Thank you for your consideration.

Sincerely,

U.S. Writer

Letter Twenty-Two

February 22, 2008

Dear Editor:

I have taken your advice. I’m learning Spanish so I can capitalize on strictly foreign markets.

Sincerely,

U.S. Writer

Letter Twenty-One

February 21, 2008

Dear Editor:

What do natural disasters and a serial killer have in common? Violence. Upheaval. And the USGS.

Please consider my thriller, STORM OF BLOOD.

Jake Storm lived through sixteen natural disasters as a kid, but bearing witness to the horrors that tornadoes and earthquakes wrought has changed him. And not for the better.
A need for blood sends this USGS scientist around the world wherever disaster strikes. Where he strikes, too, using a unique weapon, a thirty-year-old spork gleaned from a disaster relief cart.

But when Mike Obermeyer, a cagy New Orleans detective, begins to notice similarities between the much published serial murders and world events, Mike and Jake’s two worlds will collide.

Please consider STORM OF BLOOD before Jake writes a sequel, SPORK OF HOPE.

Sincerely,

U.S. Writer

Letter Twenty

February 20, 2008

Dear Editor:
Let me repeat myself; everything after the story of Adam and Eve is derivative.

Sincerely,

U.S. Writer

Letter Nineteen

February 19, 2008

Dear Editor:
I followed your suggestion and took a look at the New York Times Bestseller list to see what books are popular right now. I spent my Sunday holed up in my office, reading How Not To Look Old, Tom Cruise, and Skinny Bitch. What a transformation. Now I understand what the American public wants.

With my few remaining daylight hours, I lightened my hair, fired my therapist, bought chemical free chocolate, and threw out my Uggs. Although the injections hurt, I have a hardy scruff of facial hair coming in that even Tom would be proud of.

Then, using my new knowledge of markets, I scrapped my work in progress about famine in Darfur and wrote through the night. Please consider my novel, HAIR CLUB FOR WOMEN: fatty vegan cult or pickup joint for alcoholic blondes?

Sincerely,

U.S. Writer

Letter Eighteen

February 18, 2008

Dear Editor:
Please consider my 50,000 word science fiction fantasy novel MASTERING CHEWBACCA, AN S&M PRIMER, the sequel to my 2006 novel, WHAT WOULD CHEWIE DO?.

The immense, fur-covered warrior is back in action, this time as the bouncer at an exclusive London nightclub. The end of the Galactic Civil War has left the eight-foot Wookiee high and dry. But not for long.

Intrigued by the sordid public liaisons enjoyed by club patrons, Chewie falls for a six-foot-four 'top' named Bruce, and the result is pure pleasure.

Please give Chewbacca's next adventure your most enthusiastic consideration. I look forward to hearing from you soon.

Sincerely,

U.S. Writer

Letter Seventeen

February 17, 2008

Dear Editor:
Can't talk. Lord's day. Praying for manuscript ideas.

Sincerely,

U.S. Writer

Letter Sixteen

Febuary 16, 2008

Deer Editor:
I had no idea my manuscript was loaded wtih mispellings, dangling participals, and end of sentence prepositions. I don't deserve to have my novel of poverty in the deep South, RITA MAE, WHERE YOU AT? published, since Rita Mae don't talk right. Thank you for pointing this out.

I decided to take lessons from your well-written blog, and have enrolled me in a basic English class at the local community collige.

When I perfect my riting, may I queery again?

Thank you for your thyme.

Sincerely,

U.S. Writer

Letter Fifteen

February 15, 2008

Dear Editor:
Your charitable rejection made me feel like Thor. Green dot matrix printer paper. Text bleeding sideways off the page. No signature. You guys are awesome.

One would think a billion dollar conglomeration of publishing houses and factories making infant formula, spray cleaners, foot powder, and potted meat product could set aside enough dinero to fund some decent slurry. While you're fattening babies, shining windows, stamping out athlete's foot, and poisoning senior citizens, couldn't you deforest a little more of Oregon to prevent future writer emasculation?

My turncoat spouse insisted we try the homemade Goat Cheese Brulee with Fennel recipe on your blog; while St. Joe's emergency room replenishes the fluids we lost from projectile diarrhea, you might consider publishing a little cookbook. As an editor, I'm sure you have lots of winning ideas that would be peachy perfect for the 'house.'

Sincerely,

U.S. Writer

Letter Fourteen

February 14, 2008

Dear Editor,
Enclosed please find
A Valentine.

I hope you won't think the sentiment,

'your love is like a red red hunting knife slitting me from gullet to groin'

too derivative, which you thought of my latest novel, KILLING ME SOFTLY. Have a heartfelt day.

Sincerely,

U.S. Writer

Letter Thirteen

February 13, 2008

Dear Editor:
I'm relieved to hear American took first place in the volleyball tournament against their Warner rivals. Now that you're fired up and ready to edit, maybe we can accomplish something.

Jumping naked into my barbeque pit gave me an epiphany; while I recover from third degree burns at St. Joe's, please consider my 70,000 word novel, JUMPING NAKED INTO A PIT OF FIRE.

I look forward to hearing from you soon.

Sincerely,

U.S. Writer

Letter Twelve

February 12, 2008

Dear Editor:
Thank you for the short note illustrating why I should stop writing and jump naked into a pit of fire. Do you recommend I take my crazed loved ones with me?

While my kids smear me with lamp oil, let me ask why you think a short dog story has nothing to do with a publisher of dog stories? Your comment, please keep in mind that our focus is on dog stories makes me want to bite the hand that feeds and not let go. Further, we always need to see the work itself to decide if it's right for us makes me want to clamp down hard and gnaw through bone. Since you told me to query first, is this your cutesy way of requesting the manuscript?

While my spouse shaves my head and widens the barbeque pit, I look forward to hearing from you.

Sincerely,

U.S. Writer

Letter Eleven

February 11, 2008

Dear Editor,
Thank you for returning my manuscript, DIMWIT, sent to you in 1997. Enclosed please find an autographed sixth edition copy released by American Publishing in 2004. I truly hope you enjoy it. As a bonus, I've included a stack of its New York Times reviews.

Is there any way you could return my original postage in the amount of $8.92?

Sincerely,

U.S. Writer

Letter Ten

February 10, 2008

Dear Editor:
Due to scheduling conflicts and deadlines, I have decided to take Sundays off. You are safe from my letter writing campaign until Monday, when I take up the pen again.

At that time I hope you'll offer some insight into why you described the first paragraph of THEIR EYES WERE WATCHING PUGS as 'a little passive.' Since Percy 'gasped' 'vomited' and 'died,' I am a bit confused.

In the meantime, I had the privilege of visiting your clever blog. Gosh I hope your volleyball tourney goes well.

Sincerely,

U.S. Writer

Letter Nine

February 9, 2008

Dear Editor,
Did you hear the one about the writer, the priest, and the undertaker?
Didn't think so.

Please consider my novel, INFINITY.

When a shape-shifting priest, an undertaker moonlighting as a comedian, and a writer of the strange and weird get together there is sure to be terror, laughs, and a glitch in the space-time continuum.

Thank you for your consideration. I eagerly await the editorial axe of fate.

Sincerely,

U.S. Writer

Letter Eight

February 8, 2008

Dear Editor,
Your rejection with the comment 'stop sending me this crap!' made me cry. I haven't cried since I was a kid, when the neighbor's pug bit me in the ass and my father told me to suck it up.
The release was beneficial. Thank you for saving me years of psychoanalysis I can't afford by working at Fashion Hut.

My two day crying jag proved useful. Please consider my novel, Their Eyes Were Watching Pugs, my southern coming of age story.

Sincerely,

U.S. Writer

Letter Seven

February 7, 2008

Dear Editor,
Thank you for the rejection letter and for returning my manuscript with the speed of a starving puma sighting a fat rabbit in winter. Some of your comments were useful; NO NO NO! in big red slashes, for example. Comparing my conversation to that of a talk-show host might come off a bit harsh to some writers. Since my manuscript, From Harpo’s Mouth to God’s Ear, is about a Willy Loman style talk-show host, congratulations on hitting the proverbial nail on the head.

Sincerely yours,

U.S. Writer

Letter Six

February 6, 2008

Dear Editor,
I’m convinced. You’ve lost your mind.

Why do you think the world wants another barely plotted ‘zippy’ John Grisham novel cluttering the front racks at Barnes and Noble? In my opinion, American Publishing could consider the words of another writer on occasion and not drop any dollars off the old balance sheet. If you’d read any part of my recent submission, Bertie Haversham; James Bond’s Secret Sidekick, you might have noticed I created a “chilling and timeless” story, too.

It obviously is the opinion of American Publishing that there is no difference between great writing and average writing if a book sells well, since Playing for Pizza opens with four passive sentences. I’m sure my balls would be on the chopping block should I dare to recreate such a lifeless environment. I’d rather work at Fashion Hut than jump like a flea onto a mangy dog’s back.

PS: Thank you for considering my novel. I hope your scapula is feeling better.

Sincerely,

U.S. Writer

Letter Five

February 5, 2008

Dear Editor:
Have you ever wondered what Earth's future would be if two mute chimpanzees held the fate of the planet in their primatial paws? Please consider my 80,000 word fantasy novel, Space Chimps.

Young chimps Barney and Fiji were born mute, but both excelled in the Chimpanzees-In- Space (CIS) program at NASA. With the help of their trainer Sandy, the world's foremost sign language expert, and Mike Murphy, the head of the CIS program, Barney and Fiji received top honors in their class. But the humans know that muteness ultimately will hold their prize students back from spaceflight.

But all that is about to change. With the CIS budget depleted, the White House ready to close the program, and Sandy's twelfth research grant denied, Sandy and Mike come up with a daring plan to get the chimps back in the program and out in space. A night of drunken frustration culminates in an attraction that can't be denied. As the pair wakes with Folgers in their cup, the morning news reveals that the world as they know it has changed.

A monolithic space iceberg, rapidly leaving its orbit, threatens Earth, while in the last several hours deadly meteor showers have killed every astronaut on the planet. NASA is in chaos.
Barney and Fiji will get their coveted chance.

Launched into space the next day, Barney and Fiji have their orders. Just like the Space Invaders video game they played during training, the chimps are to fire their nuclear heat ray at the space iceberg until it is destroyed. The world watches, helpless, as the chimps' space shuttle slowly approaches the rogue iceberg.

Mike and Sandy cannot know that there has been a miracle inside the chimp-pod. The moment the shuttle passes out of Earth's atmosphere, Barney and Fiji's vocal cords vibrate. They have been given speech. They spend the next twelve hours learning to talk. Soon they can reasonably understand each other. But a debate ensues as to whether the human race is worth saving.

Stricken by their discovery of speech, overwhelmed by the responsibility to save Earth, and polarized by their beliefs, Barney and Fiji fight. Only one of them will remain alive long enough to search his or her conscience and, ultimately, save the world.

After Fiji melts the space-berg, she has a good cry, ejects Barney's mutilated body into space, and then heads the chimp-pod back to Earth. With deep sadness filling her, she makes the fateful decision never to reveal her secret speech capability.

Back at NASA, Fiji is reunited with her humans. They hug. The world --and Fiji's secret-- are safe.

Dear Editor, please consider Space Chimps. I look forward to hearing from you.

Sincerely yours,

U.S. Writer

Letter Four

February 2, 2008

Dear Editor,
Thank you for the helpful comments on my 'what if' manuscript, Fo' Shizzle Adolf Hitler.
I'm sure the concept What If Hitler Was Black? would have been an intruiging, hard-hitting and inspired work. Since you've turned it down, Time-Warner will have the honor.

And speaking of honor; some of your comments surely were unnecessary. For example, your baseball bat whallop that my metaphor reeked. Hitler's hat, the one shown in home movies from his hideaway the Eagle's Nest, is a metaphor for his desire to be just another lacky -- a 'bottom' if you will.

Cruelty was comparing my prose to the Exxon Valdez. Since writers learn in utero that clarity matters, it would have been smarter to say, 'your prose reminds me of a runaway oil tanker with a drunk at the helm.'

Thank you for taking the time to improve my skills. I'm sure taking lessons from someone whose greatest work was a purloined term paper on the life cycle of an aphid will be of great assistance in future.

Sincerely yours,
U.S. Writer

Letter Three

February 3, 2008

Dear Editor,
I'm writing in response to your note dated February 1st, in which you mention that you spoke to my agent regarding the proposal for my short novel, The Birth of Mendocino; A Gay Mexican Vintner's Tale, which you'd like to see as soon as possible. While I am happy to make the adjustments to the proposed outline, I thought I should mention that my agent's name is Dorothy Little, not Gertrude Stein, who died in 1946. Please accept my deepest apologies if I contributed in any way to the mixup.

I'd also like to speak to your concerns about main character Javier's thin motives for killing wife Lucita by drowning her in this year's vat of Pinot Grigio and installing his life-long lover Ernesto in the main house. Perhaps I more strongly should have noted Lucita's bizarre delusion that she is a gangster 'moll' living in 1920's Chicago, her sexual affairs with syphilitic grape pickers, and the fact that she torched the grape fields two years ago, destroying Javier's livelihood and killing his father, two uncles, and the family Pekingnese. If you still feel Javier's motives for killing Lucita lack strength, please let me know what changes you suggest.

I look forward to hearing from you.
Sincerely yours,

U.S. Writer

Letter Two

February 2, 2008

Dear Editor,

I received your rejection letter and am sorry you don't agree that my novel, Are You There, Margaret? It's Me, God... is the searing religious masterpiece of our time. I strongly feel that the pseudosexual communion relationship between young Catholic girls and priests makes for excellent reading, but I understand your need to publish another Dan Brown novel at this time.

I was curious to find your blog address listed beneath the publisher's address, and so visited the site. Could you explain why you feel Evanescence "is soo totally cool"? and what this has to do with your publishing goals for 2008?

Frankly, All that _I'M_ living for is an editor over the age of twelve with reading skills beyond the sixth grade.

Sincerely yours,

U.S. Writer

Letter One

February 1, 2008

Dear Editor,
I was very sorry to hear that a broken scapula would delay your review of my manuscript, Backwoods Blues -- A Hillbilly Love Story. I appreciate the time you took to have your second-assistant assistant-editor-in-training send me a short note to that effect. I also appreciate how diffficult it must be to dictate a two-line rejection from your private room at the Cornell Medical Center. I hope you aren't allergic to lilies.

I feel, however, that I must speak to your assumption that Backwoods Blues may not appeal to an audience broader than that of Beaver Mills, Alabama. As you know, my first novel, Has Anyone Seen My Personal Space? was a small print run of ten thousand copies. Although it did not make the Times Bestseller list, it did sell and fans tell me they loved it as equally in Tennessee as Hoboken.

Sincerely yours,

U.S. Writer