So, I’ve spent countless hours giving myself migraines, slaving over writing this book proposal, because, you know, if the proposal doesn’t look great, the publisher is sure that your book will suck, so the proposal has to look fantastic. About 2 a.m. I finish all 6 pages, print it off, and take it to the post office the next morning… stand in line with for 20 minutes, glaring at the ONE counter person who must, of course chat with each customer like they’re his long-lost second cousin…
Then I get home and get an e-mail telling me to “address the cover letter to___________”. WHAT “cover letter”?
So, I now have to muse over how to compose a cover letter to accompany YET ANOTHER COPY OF THE PROPOSAL, which I print off. So, I e-mail the editor, tell her, “Never mind the first proposal you’ll receive. Don’t pass it up the chain of command, because a new one is coming with the cover letter attached,” and, yes, I now return to the post office yet once again and just smile and nod to the same Opie-faced guy behind the counter, and send my heart and soul on its way.
Later that same afternoon…I’m working with the Hanoverian cow-beast, and I"m pondering, “Hmmm… One way or another I should hear from this publisher in about a week or so…”
It dawns on me that my beautifully composed cover letter neglects one thing: my return address!
How will I ever hear from them???
I am such a total doofus! So, refusing to print off and mail yet another freakin’ copy, I call my editor-friend and just about start crying. She was nice enough to tell me that since I’ve helped her out at the last minute on some writing assignments before, she’ll just intercept the proposal and add a letterhead/return address on for me! Phew!
Do you think I could be one of those case histories of someone who received one too many low-impact head injuries as a youngster?