Tag: writing

Con-Fused Box

About ten years ago I wrote a book and wanted to sell it to a publisher. This is when I discovered the dreaded cover letter and outline–Evil Twins who walketh the literary hellword much like Beelzebub and Captain Howdy. Nearly all publishers who look at un-agented work ask to see these two guys.

At first I thought, no problem. I just wrote a book, I can produce a cover letter and outline.

I was wrong. I had written a book but I could not (and still cannot) compose a concise cover letter or a sense-making outline. The problem was that I did not want to do either of those tasks because they were the type of work that tripped the innards of my mental fuse box. Still, my life has always been heavy with unwanted chores that my mental machete whacks through on a daily basis. Yet the blade wasn’t up to either task. I emerged from the jungle, toting my mixed metaphor, defeated due to my inability to summon ‘Bub and Howdy on demand.

Later on I found myself warming up to a pair of what turned out to be highly uninspired and unoriginal notions. I figured I’d flout protocol and do as I saw fit–an action that nearly always is a recipe for shame and failure. I later found out that my big Ideas were as common as Dandelions in May. Yet at the risk of embarrassment, I will share them with you.

The first is the affectation of a “Breezy” demeanor. This usually happens in the cover letter only, when it is evident to the writer that she cannot create a proper cover letter. She adopts the guise of a “character” and writes a few contrary and wildly off the topic sentences in lieu of a cover letter–in vain hope that her “unique charm” will win the day: “When Leila isn’t murdering publishers and their families late at night with a machete she writes peerless fiction…”

Breezy doesn’t work out.

The other is the “Belligerent Genius.” She will lower herself just this once to do as asked. Especially troublesome in the outline: “Here the complexities of the plot cannot be surmised in a few cheap words; some intellect will be necessary on the part of the reader…”

The Belligerent Genius never hears back from the publisher either.

I am ruefully guilty of having committed both sins in the past. And although we do not publish books, nor ask for more than a basic informative email, I have discovered that there are a few (very few) fellow sinners in submissions–who cannot even do that correctly and will opt for Breezy or even Belligerent instead. I will not chastise people who engage in familiar folly (that’s my word of the week-folly), because it would be hypocritical of me, even though I have seen the light. But with that said, such behavior never works out well.

I’m also deficient at segues. You’d think that through sheer repetition I would improve. But I am the sort of person who walks fifteen-thousand steps a day and puts on weight. It’s all a part of the natural disorder of my system. Still, if I head the next section with a positive word and jump into it, the damage will be controlled and the minor segue faux pas (hopefully) soon forgotten.

Winners

This week featured number thirty-four by a long-time site supporter, the quick second appearance of another (which has happened a lot lately) and we welcome three first time contributors.

David Henson opened the week with The Man Who Pulled Himself Together. It is one of those rare things that works in stretched realism and as a metaphor. David has pulled himself together thirty-four times and also with his daily comments on the works of others. I feel that this one was as hard to do as tapping your head with one hand and circling your stomach with the other. Yet David was able to make this unlikely scenario work; the flow is perfect and it is easy to buy into as well.

Adam Kaz made a quick follow up to his his first story that appeared last week (Random Roommate) with How I Made the Greatest Rock Concert Movie Ever. That is a bold claim and certainly in the eye and ear of the beholder, but there is no denying the youthful energy and fun of this piece.

Wednesday featured what can be called an expanded folk tale by first time contributor Iván Brave. Karass is both imaginative and charming. It is always a great idea to examine the concepts of other places and other times; this sort of activity keeps the mind flexible and open. The Ferryman burning his fares, the eccentric (to say the least) “passengers” make this one both fun and enlightening.

Picture the Dead by John Cantwell is a well crafted, elegiac work that resonates and improves with each reading. It’s also one I can’t say too much about without tipping too much. But the overlapping of realities is brilliantly done, as are the idioms.

Our third consecutive newcomer to the site, Brandon Nadeau closed the week with Donn and the Mourning Moon. This one is impossible to describe. But it is unforgettable and doesn’t go more than three words anywhere within without doing something interesting or even amazing.

There they are–our five stars of the week. Only time and possibly decent cover letters will prove if each one has a long future in print. I think they should, but since I have no desire to live forever, I am in no position to make that kind of promise. Still, struggling segue-wise, I close with a list of ten tales that I feel have withstood the test of time. I encourage further suggestions.

Ten Great Short Stories of Yore (Proof that the Dead can still do well)

• The Stranger by Katherine Mansfield
• History Lesson by Arthur C Clarke
• Leaving the Yellow House by Saul Bellow
• Jefty Turns Five by Harlan Ellison
• Tomorrow and Tomorrow and Tomorrow by Kurt Vonnegut
• A&P by John Updike
• A Junky’s Christmas by William S. Burroughs
• Mr Durant by Dorothy Parker
• The Geranium by Flannery O’Connor
• In the Zoo-Jean Stafford

Leila