I created a 59-volume sex book that contains not only my experience but all the substantive knowledge any human being could possibly think up. My Superbook will be the biggest sex book ever created in human history.
Dear President Clinton, we regret to inform you that we’ve decided to pass.
We received this award a couple days ago from Writer’s Digest magazine. So apparently we don’t suck as much as we thought.
My novel is actually an instructional booklet for peace for world peace, in the form of a novel, in the form of a mystery, adventure, suspense novel. A drama.
And this is a rejection letter, in the form of a letter of rejection.
I have contacted you as I wish to request two things of you.
1) If you could read and give me a review plus a rating on the basis of ‘5 stars’ about what you think of this book. (It is only 20 page long and takes less than 1 hour to read)
2)If you could guide and reference me towards finding the right publishing company that would launch this book worldwide.
Thanks for making this easy. Your 20-page book gets my review of 0.0009 stars! I laughed. I cried. I went for a long walk on the beach afterward to reflect on my mortality. I don’t want to be hasty in suggesting the right publishing company. I’ll get back to you on that.
First of all, I must warn you that I am violating your rules of submission….
Stop right there. I must warn you that as of this moment you’re dead to me.
I have read or glanced through some of the books you have agented over the last few years and we are impressed by the quality and focus of some of them whose lines and harmonics challenge the descriptive resources of language. It appears to us that your publishing focus has a different angle, which does not consider the book purely as an object, a physical construct of paper, cardboard, cloth, ink and glue.
Dear Mom and Dad, you were right. I should have been a doctor.