A few weeks ago I emailed one of the sub-editors on our local paper with an idea for a column. She responded quickly, seemed quite interested and asked if I'd write a sample.
No problem. I did that and emailed it off.
I've since checked with her about three times and each time she says, 'It's with the editor; he's still considering it.'
Now earlier this year - or it might have been last - I contacted a different sub-editor with a different idea. Again she seemed keen and passed it on, yes, you've guessed it, to the editor. Each time I asked her, he was still considering it.
Today I emailed the editor. I asked if the phrase 'the editor's considering it' was a polite way of telling me to get lost. I also might have suggested that he was a figment of everyone's imagination, a black hole into which ideas disappear and from which they never return, although I didn't phrase it quite like that.
Anyway I've had no reply.
So he probably doesn't exist.
Alternatively he may be an alien who has everyone enslaved, captured by the power of his brain waves. He exists in human form simply to blend in with his current surroundings; in reality he is a gooey mass of gunge surrounding a brain capable of transporting itself across the dimensions at will. And now he knows that I have deduced his secret his anger knows no bounds. Even at this moment he is spitting goo and screaming unintelligibly at his sub-editors who stand transfixed, unable to think for themselves.
I should probably expect a knock at the door late tonight when his minion will come to silence me forever by taking my brain under his control.
I can't think of any other reason why he shouldn't reply.
3 comments:
You can be thnakful you didn't try to visit. You would probably be let into an office and all of the lights would go out. You could wonder around in there a life time and never get out. My agent has made follow up calls on submissions and been told, "We've had a high turnover of personnel during the summer." I guess that's as good of an answer as to why something falls through the cracks.
I don't know, Liz. I think I'd be afraid of an Invisible Editor. If he exists, it must be in some parallel world. One wonders if that newspaper isn't existing in the Twilight Zone. And just think -- if they did hire you to write a column, they might print it in invisible ink, and pay you with invisible checks. Run!
Not surprising at all. So many people have forgotten simple courtesy. It takes courage to actually be able to tell someone "Thanks, but no thanks" to their face / on the phone / in writing.
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