Dear Most Exalted Sir/Madam,
I see that you’re looking to represent literary and upmarket fiction. We all know that's code for hoity-toity pretentious poetic stuff that doesn't have much plot. Which, luckily for both of us, perfectly describes my novel.
I mean, it has a plot. Things happen. Like death! Death is featured very prominently in my novel. Yes, it's very arty and deep, the way it focuses on mourning. That's the literary equivalent of Oscar bait! Do you people not WANT me to win your agency a Pulitzer? Are you that sure of yourself, that cocky, that you think you don't need (another) one? Or is it a deep-rooted inferiority complex? It doesn't matter, because my book is so cathartic and emotionally devastating, it's all the therapy you'll ever need!
It also has sex. Granted, in between the graphic descriptions of sex are even more graphic descriptions of art, art theory, philosophy and general rumination on the nature of man. Because Pulitzer! But also, sex! Sex sells. As such, my novel will sell. You can even put a naked lady on the cover, as long as it's artistic and tasteful. You see what I'm doing for you people? I'm giving you an artsy sex novel! You're welcome!
Why are you idiots being so stubborn? Why do you keep rejecting me? I'm sick of your coy "thanks for submitting but I'm not interested in representing your novel at this time" crap. What are you saying? That the world doesn't need another navel-gazing masturbatory novel? Of course it does! It totally does!
Look, I'm going to level with you. My novel is long. It's really long. Like, over 100,000 words. And many of those words are "fuck," "aesthetic," and "lament." Because it's an artsy novel! People swear and talk about feelings and art! And feelings about art! Just like real life, if you're pretentious, intellectual and angsty. Which I am. Look, you can cut down my novel and edit out some of the more wallowing-rambling sections. I'm not rigid, here; I'm willing to work with you. You don't like a particular subplot? Gone! See, we're doing great. This is working!
Just represent my novel! God! Come on! Why the fuck not?? OK--How about as a personal favor to me? I'll be really grateful! And what's worth more than the gratitude of an artist? I mean, besides money. OK fine, that may not be my strongest argument. Let's get back to how good the novel is.
You want dysfunction? I've got it. Redemption? Done. Substance abuse? Hell yes. Complicated, sympathetic depictions of people of different ethnicities and sexual orientations? Check. This has the makings of Great American Novel With Much Oral Sex. "Oral Sex" meaning both heady (ahem) discussions about sex, and the other thing.
Recognize my merit! I AM IMPORTANT! MY NOVEL IS IMPORTANT! Who are you to reject me, anyway? How many novels have you written? You know, I don't go to where you work and politely decline your professional advances!
I'm sorry. I got a little excited. As you will, when you read my novel! Relax. Have a drink. Have several. Lie down and prepare to have your faith in interpersonal connections blown, devastated and restored. And that's just the first three chapters!
Please please please please notice me oh my god I'm so desperate for your approval, my novel's never gonna get published, oh god I'm such a failure, wait no I'm not, I'm amazing, please please please agree with me, I love you so much, literary agency. If you agree to represent me I will get a tattoo of your company's logo on my lower leg. I will do your children's homework until they graduate college. I will convert to the religion of your choice.
But, you know, no pressure. Thank you very much for your consideration.
Sincerely,
Most Unpublished Novelists
Alaina Hammond is currently seeking representation for her novel, Prior To The Showing.
