Well, here I am in physical therapy with my somewhat wrecked
ankle (which is, btw, wrapped in cool, black spider-webbish tape and looks kind
of Goth), and I’m still in a bad mood. I am, therefore, going to send out into the world some
of the Clueless One’s pithier messages of doom, so that I can feel more
fellowship with writers who don’t have a wrecked ankle but whom I’ve
nevertheless reduced to a state of unappetizing moaning.
You’re welcome.
Dear Clueless One,
Writing is hard, and I’ll never get this manuscript to
sing. Should I just throw in the
towel?
Sincerely,
Might Be Incompetent
Dear Incompetent,
Yes.
Dear Clueless One,
Revising is hard.
This manuscript has any number of problems that I just can’t solve. Should I just throw in the towel?
Yours,
In Revision Hell
Dear IRH,
Yes.
Dear Clueless One,
This re-revision seems to be making this manuscript worse
and not better. Should I throw in
the towel?
Yours,
#BangsHeadOnKeyboard
Dear Head-Banger,
Yes. (And for the love of God, stop using hashtags.)
Dear Clueless One,
My publisher is terribly nice, but they appear to like this
brilliant, well-established, multi-zillion dollar epic writer better than
me. She got to speak at ALA and I
didn’t. (Although that might be
because she won the Newberry & I didn’t.) Should I just throw in the towel?
Your friend,
Peevishly Jealous
Dear Writer,
Yes.
Dear Clueless One,
Damn the internet!
If not for the internet, I would never know that somewhere out there,
there’s someone who hates my book.
A lot. And not just one
person, either. Just after I flame
this misguided Satan, should I just throw in the towel?
Best wishes (if you liked my book, otherwise not),
Judgment-Impaired Narcissist
Dear Internet Joke,
Yes.
Dear Clueless One,
I don’t like your book and my publisher made me a poster.
Signed,
Anonymous For Reasons of Safety
Dear AFRS,
Die.
