Reject a Hit. A Series of Unfortunate Events

This was previously published on Writer's Digest. The column instructed us to be a clueless literary agent. This was accepted, and I was so happy my satire was accepted, I bragged about it to the grass and to gravity itself.

The rejection letter.

Dear Mr. Snicket,

I am writing to you from the comfort of my office that isn’t tied with any secret organizations or any dastardly deeds such as littering. I have read your manuscript, The Bad Beginning, about Violet, Klaus, and Sunny, the gifted unlucky orphans. after finishing this woeful tale I have decided to reject, a word which here means, screamingly cast away your captivating prose, for the safety of households.

My associates, also not part of a secret organization and who don’t litter, and I, have mulled over this book in between stages of fright and we just don’t see how the general public would be interested in a tale of a greedy and repulsive villain, itchy clothing, a disastrous fire, a plot to steal the Baudelaire fortune, and cold porridge for breakfast, no matter how desperately the story needs to be told or how delightful the orphans are.

Even though the witty banter of words diverted our attentions from keeping this secret, non organization, hidden, we fear that this book, the first in a series, will be as terrifyingly common in households as unrefrigerated butter.

Imagine, if you will, the continuation of this series. This chronicle will contain horrifically witty, a phrase which here means delightedly dark, tales so indelibly horrid that the New York Times bestseller list will be unable to rid itself of them for seven years. We can't have that.

Like a bad date or the Roman Empire, all things must come to an end, as does this letter. Even though I have chosen to decline, a word which here means, ban books that may encourage critical thinking, I encourage you to seek representation elsewhere, perhaps at an agency without a secret afiliation that’s trying to hide something.

Sincerely,

the Handsomely Frightened Editor