Rejection 78: Unidentified Funny Objects @ashvartsman

You’ll agree, this is pretty winning:

Dear Mr. Lawson,

Please find enclosed a rejection letter in three codas and a poem.

1) If you insist on being all formal, even though we chat every day on Twitter, FINE then. Otherwise, “Dear Editor” is my father. You can just call me… Oh, wait. That’s not quite right.

2) You, sir, have failed at the Internets today. And by that I mean you have failed to follow my every move, blog post and Tweet in the last two weeks or so (how dare you?). Otherwise you would know that we already purchased an excellent story by @jakedfw which is written as a Twitter stream. And, surely, no anthology can contain TWO stories told in this format without triggering the very apocalyptic calamity that is the subject of your tale.

3) I’m well aware of your insidious plan to post all rejections on the Internet. I hate it, mostly because I didn’t think of it first. There is now a significant amount of pressure on me to be display razor sharp wit. And since I do not possess such, I shall borrow from Anatoly Belilovsky, who has wit to spare and is the author of the following:

Your stories soar like birds,

I wish I could acquire ‘em,

but I seek only words

fit for an aquarium.

Dear Editor
a/k/a Alex Shvartsman
Unidentified Funny Objects
This Dear Editor guy writes pretty awesome rejections. Send him a story and find out.


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3 responses to “Rejection 78: Unidentified Funny Objects @ashvartsman

  1. Pingback: The Meta Rejection « Alex Shvartsman's Speculative Fiction

  2. Pingback: Anthology Submissions Update – The Fourth Hundred « Alex Shvartsman's Speculative Fiction

  3. This editor guy is kind of wimpy. Looks like he’s blaming me for your rejection. He should show more backbone. He should be proud of his rejections, revel in them, be glad to shove your face in the fact that he rejected your story after holding the fate of publication in his hands.

    A sinister laugh is almost necessary.

    But, no. This Shvartsman fellow blames me for your rejection. I object most vociferously. Not, mind you at him picking me over you. I mean, come on, this is a dog eat dog world, and if it’s you or me, you can be damn sure I want my name in the table-of-contents. No offense and nothing personal and all that. What I object to is his lack of venom. His lack of dismissiveness, and–most importantly–his damn timely rejections. Can’t he at least make the poor rejected writers stew in their anticipation before he stabs them in the heart?

    He sounds almost… nice. And what kind of editor is nice?


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