One grumpy literary agent, a sea of query fails, and other publishing nonsense.
If you do not care for my book premise, spare me, please, please, the smug, stock, pre-packaged rejection replies which are, oh so, very, very tiresome to read. A simple no is sufficient.
What a cute little man you are, and I’m sure you’re just loaded with talent. Unfortunately my prestigious literary firm could not possibly handle another client at this time, as we are in the midst of countless 7-figure negotiations for clients far more important than…
Oh, sorry. That was my smug, stock, pre-packaged rejection.
I’ll try to keep it simple: No. Your book blows.
My book will sell more books then the bible and it will take man out of the “mud’ that is ignorance, provoking an evolution in man that will in turn provoke a cataclysmic event….and that is the power long waited for. The question is “who” will be the publishing house that offers the right contract, and who will be the agent that humors me until the book is printed and sold world wide.
And this week’s Tom Cruise Scientology Nutjob Award goes to…
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