I haven’t posted in a while, mainly because it seems an exercise in futility, but also because I’ve been busy with work and life (which is mostly work). I have an Instagram (@entirelyforced) for my ‘art’ as I realised using a blogging platform to show off pictures was foolish when there is a tool especially for that, which has a bigger market too. Anyway, I recently sent a novel off to a literary agent and I thought as a way to cope with the imminent rejection I’ll write my own rejection letters.
Here’s one that made me chuckle (yes I laugh at my own jokes, as some one has to).
Thank you for your interest in our company and the submission of your manuscript, we thoroughly enjoyed reading it. Unfortunately, it is not what we are looking for at the moment. You see, publishing is a dying industry. Had things been different and your work was published you would not have earned any money from it anyway, it would have been copied and put on the World Wide Web in pdf format, the most disposable of all formats.
However, these are trivial matters considering the environmental challenges humanity faces as a whole right now. Arctic sea ice is at an all-time low, and global temperatures are rising faster than scientists previously predicted, as a result, harvests around the globe have suffered. We are vastly over populated, stretching our extremely finite resources to capacity. The planet is dying, and we all played our part in its death, hastening natural temperature fluctuations and failing to do a thing about it despite dire warnings. So publishing your book ‘about some bloke doing a thing’ would seem a rather trivial thing.
Even if the world survives its current plight, our doom seems assured. Petty disputes and wars occur each and every day. Religious zealots pray on the young, the isolated and the vulnerable, rallying them to an absurd and destructive cause in which the result is always the deaths of innocent bystanders. As a result the displacement of people is so severe that the infrastructure of neighbouring countries simply can’t handle such a sudden influx – though more distressingly they don’t want a thing to do with these poor unfortunate souls who had the audacity to be born in another country and have no right to a life in another.
Social media and the constantly connected world has left those not in immediate danger of death, has left them isolated and crippled with insecurity and severe neurosis. Body dysmorphia is currently more prevalent than it has ever been 50% of the western world are prescribed anti-anxiety or anti-depressant medications.
The future is a bleak vortex of doom at best and humanity is no doubt in its final and desperate stages. We are soon to shuffle off this mortal coil making way for the next dominant species. The whale perhaps.
So no, we shall not be publishing your ‘funny’ novel as we see nothing to laugh about! We suggest you give up, purchase a gun, crack open a bottle of Macallan and save yourself.
A Redundant Figure.