Dear Big Name New York Publisher,
Thank you for you recent offer to publish my book, The Novel. After careful consideration, I'm going to have to pass.
Your offered advance of one million dollars, while certainly generous, is a clear example of your inability to discern quality fiction. While I agree that The Novel does have certain merits, it is in no way worthy of such a large sum.
I am quite frankly disturbed that you would go so far as to call The Novel “The best thing to come across my desk in years.” If this is truly the case, I would wonder if you have been checking your mail, and if you even have a desk at all.
Furthermore, you go on in your five-page letter to express your excitement over the wide appeal of The Novel. I can see how you would think that women and men could enjoy the book equally, but teenagers and children as well? Did you even read the manuscript?
I was shocked to read the line, “We think you as a writer have the potential to be the next great American novelist.” It becomes more and more clear that you did not take the time to clearly examine The Novel or myself.
Lastly, and most offensively, you had the audacity to send a copy of The Novel to Stephen King, who—you claim—gave it this endorsement: “Never before have I been so taken by a book as I was by The Novel. Mark my words, this will be the classic of our times, perhaps the greatest book written this century, or ever. I am in awe.” Obviously you paid Mr. King a great deal of money to compose such lies.
Your offer to publish The Novel is rejected in light of clear disregard for quality fiction, your pie-in-sky predictions about the book and about me, and your juvenile use of subterfuge to influence the reading public.
I wish you the best as a publisher, and might suggest that you take more time in the future to properly consider submissions that come your way.
Sincerely,
Wanna Be Published
