The One That Snubbed Me
a riddle of sorts
trigger warning: satire ahead
The professionalism and cordiality of publications on this site, combined with the accessibility and willingness of their administrators to offer helpful and timely feedback, has surpassed my every expectation. A dozen publications thus far, and who knows how many selfless souls behind the scenes, have opened their welcoming arms to my writings.
Except one …
I’ve lost count of the number of times I contacted this legendary publishing house, this storied online outfit, this stomping ground of giants … wait, hold on, I have the Internet, let me check my Gmail Sent Mail folder. Got it … four times. On four distinct occasions, with four unique submissions. Never a word back.
[queue the song “Giving You the Best That I Got”, by Anita Baker]
I won’t mention them by name, it isn’t my intention to call anyone out here. Maybe just a little hint:
The name of this publication sounds like a condition that might be a lingering side-effect of an acute tetanus infection.
I mean, a simple “No” would have sufficed. But no, not a peep.
It’s cool though.
They’re busy. Inundated with quality submissions, I’m sure.
Again, not naming names here, lest I appear petty or vindictive.
The name of this publication is defined by Merriam-Webster, in its adjective form, as a facial expression indicating dumbfounded amazement or bewilderment.
It’s for the best, really.
I’m glad. Glad that they have more time, more bandwidth to dedicate to other up-and-coming authors, those who need the exposure and validation more than me.
Four times, though. Crickets. Really?
For the record, …
The name of this publication is denoted by Urban Dictionary as North American slang for an ignorant, clueless, possibly inbred individual.
No hard feelings, tho’.
Water under the bridge.
We’re totally cool.
Call me, maybe.
Just for fun, here is one of the rejects — it found a wonderful home though, so it’s all good.