Rejection Party
Just when my ego was getting puffy...all digger style, I get some poems back from the COMSTOCK REVIEW (I am so annoyed at the rudeness that I just have to reveal the source). Hand scrawled (and I emphasize scrawled) on the corner of the generic rejection form is this note:
Imaginative Work--but light on craft. JB
Wow, I'm so fucking glad this guy took a moment of his time to praise & insult my poems in the same sentence. What a wanker.
Imaginative Work--but light on craft. JB
Wow, I'm so fucking glad this guy took a moment of his time to praise & insult my poems in the same sentence. What a wanker.
posted by Beverly Writer at 3/01/2006
4 Comments:
i'm plotting ways to exact revenge.
Did he think that by adding that note that it'd help your craft? In all honesty, this is exactly why I don't submit. Who the fuck are these people to say shit about anything?
Are they endowed with writerly magic?
Did they get straight A's at University?
Does someone pat them on their back and tell them that they have excellent taste?
Sure, I'm an ardent supporter and admirer of honest critical analysis, and I also understand that editorial staffs need to be choosy for the sake of their publication, but to write such a profoundly idle and inept one-line comment such as this is contemptible.
Fuck:
1. Academia.
2. The intelligencia.
3. Smug, pointless intellectualism.
Support:
1. Proliferation of knowledge.
2. Meaningful dialogue.
3. Observation/contemplation of Nature and its resultant abstraction.
Wait. I'll grind these wheels to halt right now. I'm heading toward the Lyceum and I have nary a laurel crown.
Look, Bev, this is why self-publication will be the future of writing, despite its current ill-repute. Blogs are just the beginning.
Here's for cheap printing presses and recyclable paper!
dude, this guy clearly has issues with people who actually write. i'm sure he is a crummy writer and/or blocked. your work is fucking crafty to the max!
I may shed a tear because you guys are so right on! Thank you for validating my feelings and saying so eloquently what I feel, except can't say beyond, "what a wanker." How jerkily he cuts at my poems which I like a lot because they are imaginitive and hell, f-ing crafty. I can craft his ass under the table. And I got peeps to back me up.
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