Dear Santa,
First off, I forgive you for last
year's failure to arrange for the timely death of the editor who told my
agent that my novel about a tabloid reporter was too much like The Constant
Gardener (the confusion must stem--no pun intended--from both stories being
set somewhere other than Midtown). This is the same person who has proved
such a disappointment in her firm's efforts to provide editorial employment
to people in work-release programs.
But that's
blood under the bridge, Santa, and as I say, I forgive you. You can make
us both whole by being sure, this time, to think of your sleigh as a missile.
With this perspective,
and making certain not to forget your
Global Positioning System (we don't want collateral damage on this), you
should be able during your run to at some point drop on the head of this
season's Dunce of the Year. No doubt your gift for naughty/nice distinctions
has already revealed him to you: I refer to the editor whose studies at
the Booker T. Washington Manual Trade School led him--I think it was a him--to
say of my tabloid reporter that her story was "too difficult."
This
is not a lot to ask, right, Santa? By no means. Straight up, no chaser.
I want nothing else--that is, nothing other than the perennial One Other
Thing: for my lively, plucky heroine to at last meet up with an editor not
off her meds, who sees the wisdom in publishing my work.
Thanks, and dress warmly.
Barry Knister
With a letter like this, BBS is sure to comply, and maybe add in a few surprises just to square things from last year's "oops."
Malcolm
Posted by: Great Tips - We need to be reminded from time to time | December 29, 2007 at 11:23 AM