Dear Publishing house Intern

Dear Publishing house Intern:



I am guessing that you, in your role as an intern at a large publishing house, don't get a lot of manuscript submissions from authors. This is probably because you are not in a position to get any of those manuscripts published. But since my career in writing has almost entirely disabused me of the notion that I might get published, I figured I have nothing to lose in sending my query to you, the intern.

You might think this is an act of hopelessness, but I like to think of it as merely taking a different tack towards my unlikely, but not impossible, publishing. 

There you are, reading my pages, when some crusty old embittered, paid editor sees you and says "Aren't you supposed to be sorting the mail? What are you reading?"

"A letter." You would answer.

"You should read personal mail on your own time." The editor admonishes.

"Er, no, this is a submission that was sent to me."

"Let me see." The editor holds out his or her hand.

"I don't know if that would be right. This was sent to me. I'd have to check with (insert the name of the superior to the editor here)." You say as you resume reading.

The editor is stymied. "No, seriously." They say.

You make a non committal grunt.

"Is it any good?" They ask, because it is, after all, a publishing house.

Another non committal grunt.

"I'll share the finders credit with you." The editor breaks down, though this may take a bit longer in the real life scenario.

"It's not bad." You say. Because really, you'll see. It isn't.

"Come with me. We'll bring it to (insert the name of the superior to the editor here)."

Ignore the editor a bit, then murmur "Wait, let me finish this." If you can't cry on command, just chuckle in an embarrassing way that indicates it was entirely against your will. Then look up at the editor and ask, as if out of a dream "What was that?"

My book will be published. You will be hired as the Junior Editing Editorial Assistant to the Editing Assistant's Editor, which is not super glamorous to start with, but better than an intern, as you so well know. My book will make dozens, possibly hundreds of dollars for the Publishing House, and everyone will be slightly happier.

I'll admit it might not actually go like this, but still, you got some mail of your own, and I will have done about as well as usual.

Thank you for your time and attention to this matter. I look forward to working with you.



F. Calypso