Cover Letters

I’ve had it up to here with dickwads who insult my editorial choices and/or the journal in a cover letter. Calling the magazine “cliché bullshit” is not the way to get me to read any further. I’ll fire back a “fuck you,” delete your submission, and blacklist your name from further submissions. I don’t get paid to put up with your abuse. Hell, I don’t get paid to do this at all.

Also, any writer who thinks they can ingratiate themselves to my editorial sensibilities by talking about how amazing they are—and I mean those who literally say “my writing is amazing” or “my heart-felt writing aims to touch the spirit”—automatically flags their work as complete shit. Let the work speak for itself.

And seriously . . . do you really think I’m going to publish works that are poor imitations of Jack Prelutsky? (Mr. Prelutsky, please feel free to submit.)