The number one question I’m asked by people interested in Open Letter/publishing is how we find our books. We do a lot of reading of catalogs and reviews online, talking to people, getting recommendations, and, most importantly, receiving submissions over the interwebs. Well, like this one:
Subject: QUERY Its All About Me (Said Sarcastically)
Its All About Me (Said Sarcastically)
I am a volunteer at a center and this not making any money. I need money because I have two grand children. I am aquatinted with publishing books because I have writ seven and published, so far three. I need to get with a publishing organization who will not only print my new book but also send me out on book signing and speaking tours around the world.
The latest book I am interested in getting out in the market place has the working title, I Me Me Mine, I think browed from the Beatles 60’s group. The text is essays, fiction and poems which are acquitted with my life. Many humorous, all interesting, I am willing to work with the company who sends me to speaking and autograph sessions. I am also willing to get on any radio and television show who uses authors to make interesting, intelligent shows.
If you are interested in helping me to both of our benefits please email XXXX.
What I am sending are a few poems (light verse, mostly) of which I have sufficient amount to make up a complete book. I also have fictions and essays which are on the subject of me. I see this endeavor not as an ego boost (my ego is breath, just ask my wife) but more as an autobiography. (see what I mean about healthy ego)
But I think these poems stand on their own and if you are interested in the essays and fiction (fiction bio!) I will be happy to send them.
I await to hear if you are interested to haver me get out the selling the book as long as they are still making books and see the authors.
“I await to hear if you are interested to haver me get out the selling the book as long as they are still making books and see the authors.”??? Oh my, yes.
When we got this, I joked about posting it so that people could share in the publishing experience. Well, after today’s message, I really couldn’t resist. This is what I literally just received from the EXACT SAME PERSON:
Short Essays Query
I am a retired man who does volunteer work (as noted in one of the enclose essays below.This gives me time to write (after thinking) and edit (with more thinking) essays.
I am the author of three published books but being a volunteer that leaves me more time to sit around watching Television , which really annoys my wife (because I do not enjoy her shows. Its Comedy verses repetitious crime dramas. So I write. I think and write.
I also enjoy traveling. This is a hope enough information to tell you that I am an accomplished author with a new, interesting book to publish and go to give speeches and autographs.
Now, my first there books were fairly topic specific. If the reader was not interested in the topic I will agree that reading would get boring.
My first book was “A Jewish Appraisal Of Dialogue” the title very specific and explanatory. Next came “Midrash And Working Out Of The Book,”
also specific and explanatory. Third was Shards And Verses.
Now, I bet you saw I was working up to this, I have a book which continues 87 relatively short, essays, from one to four pages. They range a great distance as suggested by the titles. Consider these three: God, Thoughts Of Dogs And Of Cats, and Raspberries.
I have included the Table Of Contents to show the extent of the thoughts (and the excellence of sticking to the topic, and authoring good thoughts.)
This book is ready to go, edited and thought through, as I am ready to go on speaking and signing tours where ever you send me.
So, I am are you demise that I have no money to pay publishing but I have the thought that people enjoy seeing live authors so I am absolutely willing to go sell the book to make you and me money.
That’s the whole truth.
These typos—and the innumerable references to thinking about how he’s thinking about thinking thoughtfully—are fricking brilliant. But not as gamechangingly awesome as this one:
What can I say about walnuts except they are tasty and dry.
Ok, now that I have said that I say goodbye
But oh no here is another thought.
Walnuts are not nuts but lagoons so while they re not nuts you are able to throw at a wall
I am sure they are lagoons you can throw at your sister but if you are luckily enough not to have a sister you can throw them at my sister.
So there you have it.
Particularly awesome since walnuts AREN’T legumes.
And yes, we’re totally publishing this. Who wouldn’t want to read a book with essay titles like “Please Stop Tapping Me On The Head” and “The Word Ass”?
Pedro Zarraluki’s The History of Silence (trans. Nick Caistor and Lorenza García) begins with the narrator and his wife, Irene, setting out to write a book about silence, itself called The History of Silence: “This is the story of how. . .
There are plenty of reasons you can fail to find the rhythm of a book. Sometimes it’s a matter of discarding initial assumptions or impressions, sometimes of resetting oneself. Zigmunds Skujiņš’s Flesh-Coloured Dominoes was a defining experience in the necessity. . .
In a culture that privileges prose, reviewing poetry is fairly pointless. And I’ve long since stopped caring about what the world reads and dropped the crusade to get Americans to read more poems. Part of the fault, as I’ve suggested. . .
I would like to pose the argument that it is rare for one to ever come across a truly passive protagonist in a novel. The protagonist (perhaps) of Three Light-Years, Claudio Viberti, is just that—a shy internist who lives in. . .
The last five days of the eleventh-century Icelandic politician, writer of sagas, and famous murder victim Snorri Sturleleson (the Norwegian spelling, Snorre, is preserved in the book) make up Thorvald Steen’s most recently translated historical fiction, The Little Horse. Murdered. . .
We all know Paris, or at least we think we know it. The Eiffel Tower. The Latin Quarter. The Champs-Élysées. The touristy stuff. In Dominique Fabre’s novel, Guys Like Me, we’re shown a different side of Paris: a gray, decaying. . .
One hundred pages into Birth of a Bridge, the prize-winning novel from French writer Maylis de Kerangal, the narrator describes how starting in November, birds come to nest in the wetlands of the fictional city of Coca, California, for three. . .
At 30, the Mexican writer Valeria Luiselli is already gathering her rosebuds. Faces in the Crowd, her poised debut novel, was published by Coffee House Press, along with her Brodsky-infused essay collection, Sidewalks. The essays stand as a theoretical map. . .
Fantomas Versus the Multinational Vampires: An Attainable Utopia (narrated by Julio Cortázar) is, not disappointingly, as wild a book as its title suggests. It is a half-novella half-graphic novel story about . . . what, exactly? A European tribunal, Latin. . .
Marie NDiaye has created a tiny, psychological masterpiece with her Self-Portrait in Green. In it she explores how our private fears and insecurities can distort what we believe to be real and can cause us to sabotage our intimate relationships.. . .