Dear So and So

 Dear agent or editor, 

I am a writer. I have always been a writer. when I was six I wrote (and illustrated!) a lovely story about a worm traveling from the countryside to the big city. It was a smash hit in our house and even made it into the “Save This” file! I advanced in years as children do, and would visit the mall with friends where I, said writer, would drag my dear friend to the bookstore, purchase a book, and promptly find a mannequin stand (is that what those are called?) where I would sit and read for the next hour while my poor lonely friend would peruse the perfume section. (Sorry, Maggie.) Then came puberty. And the diaries. Senseless ramblings, bad poetry, tear stained pages bemoaning the unrighteousness of boys (Rob is mentioned a few times in my “College Years” volumes.) After that there is a period of darkness. Until I landed my agent! Then came the days of the beautiful rejections. Page after page from the likes of all the BEST publishing houses, Simon and Schuster, Holiday House, and even Penguin. It may seem silly, but I cherish those rejections. Those editors had read and thought about my work. Some even wanted it, but for whatever reason they couldn’t make the purchase work. Then my agent was gone. And now I am back to the grindstone. Writing, lost in thought. wandering about mumbling things about lost lonely worms from the countryside and Twitter Pitch contests. So be it.

I am a writer. And I always will be.