Judson Merrill Updates his Bio

My literary career is young but it’s never too early to begin packing gauze into the abscess of posterity. For the benefit of scholars and fans alike, I will use this space on The Outlet, on a semi-regular basis, to release a selection of my correspondence and other papers. Enjoy. (Universities interested in acquiring the complete Judson Merrill archive should contact me through my web site.)

Judson Merrill studied fiction at Iowa with Kurt Vonnegut. This is his first published story. He lives in Brooklyn with his wife and their daughter Bianca.

Judson Merrill’s work has also recently appeared in Rabbit Punch. He is enjoying having the last laugh over all the magazines that have rejected him over the years. Those editors who passed on his work are free to reconsider and contact him through his website. They should be warned, however, that he is a principled man and has trouble doing business with people who have betrayed him in the past.

Judson Merrill has attended writer’s conferences at Haystack, Breadloaf and several other summer retreats. He’s got great new stories available to the highest bidder.

It has been three long years since Judson Merrill’s debut in Rabbit Punch. He apologizes whole-heartedly to any magazines or editors he may have offended in previous bios. He totally wants to make it up to you. Please email him. Judson lives in Brooklyn with his wife, their daughter Bianca, and the crushing burden of Bianca’s outlandish kindergarten tuition.

Judson Merrill’s work has been considered by dozens of magazines, including the New Yorker, Tin House, Granta, and Ploughshares. He firmly believes his attendance at Breadloaf advanced him as a writer and was not a “flight of vanity” or a “senseless drain” on his family’s finances. Judson’s new memoir about breaking into the publishing world, Rabbit Season, is available through his website.

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Judson Merrill Takes a Workshop

My literary career is young but it’s never too early to begin stuffing moth balls into the wool sweater of posterity. For the benefit of scholars and fans alike, I will use this space on The Outlet, on a semi-regular basis, to release a selection of my correspondence and other papers. Enjoy. (Universities interested in acquiring the complete Judson Merrill archive should contact me through my web site.)

Dear Jane,

I really enjoyed reading “Climate Control.” Your story definitely has a voice and a sense of place and is populated with characters! I do have some reservations, however. I love the premise of an HVAC repairman in the middle of a divorce but I can’t help wondering if you’ve brought in enough conflict. What if, instead of getting stuck in an air duct, your protagonist murders his wife and then hides in an air duct? That could raise the stakes without changing what you have now. Consider it.

Molly,

I think what you’re responding to is a question of language. My story needs to be told in this lyrical, soaring patois. I consider each sentence a sort of tone poem. When you write, “Much in your story borders on the meaningless; portentous but without direction or even subject,” I think, “Exactly!”

I’m challenging the idea of narrative. How many times have we all heard, “Your story doesn’t make sense. What’s happening on page 2? Why is this character doing this?” I’m turning those questions back on the reader. Why does she expect things like explicable actions and believable motivations?

With that in mind, please give “Field of (Dis)vision” another read and let me know what you think.

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PA Judson Merrill writes to employer Jonathan Franzen

My literary career is young but it’s never too early to begin filling in the gopher holes in the golf course of posterity. For the benefit of scholars and fans alike, I will use this space on The Outlet, on a semi-regular basis, to release a selection of my correspondence and other papers. Enjoy. (Universities interested in acquiring the complete Judson Merrill archive should contact me through my web site.)

Dear Mr. Franzen,

Our mutual friend, Cathy, told me you were looking to add another personal assistant to your staff and I ran home (I’m still sweating) to draft this letter and send you my resume. It would be an honor to work for you. I am a student of the Suburban Plight genre and think your work among the very best. Indeed, I myself am a novelist. (Though still a few lucky breaks away from being published, making my living as a writer, or successfully revising a draft.) As long as I need a paycheck, I can think of no better training for an up-and-coming novelist than to book flights for a much more successful novelist. Thank you for considering me for any position you have available.

Mr. Franzen,

I was thrilled to report to my first day of work but, as you can imagine, disappointed that I wasn’t able to meet you. Still, I followed to a tee the instructions you left. I also had a little extra time so I washed the feet of all your chairs and alphabetized your writing pens. But I think, accidentally, I left a draft of my new novel, Windjammer’s Lament, on your desk. If you see a manuscript you don’t recognize, please just read the first chapter or two to make sure it’s mine and then leave it in my work cubby. Thanks!

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ALL THINGS BROOKLYN BOOKFEST

BORDER CROSSING

Maaza Mengiste (left) + Shteyngart & Urrea Blurs (right)

Maaza Mengiste (left) + Shteyngart & Urrea blurs (right)

On account of the rain that washed over the second half of the Brooklyn Book Festival, the International Stage was relocated to a lecture hall inside St. Francis College. The fluorescent lighting overhead made the new Border Crossing venue seem more classroom than literary lounge. “Welcome to Econ 101,” said moderator Robert Spillman (Tin House) to open the evening’s seminar.

The writers themselves served as lessons in geography and history: Luís Alberto Urrea (Into the Beautiful North) was born in Tijuana, Maaza Mengiste (Beneath the Lion’s Gaze) hails from Ethiopia, and Gary Shteyngart (Super Sad True Love Story) is a product of “St. Leninsburg.”

In spite of their dissimilar backgrounds, as “international writers” the trio had much in common. They all found that a new location was beneficial to their understanding of the places they portray in their work.

Mengiste used distance as a tool, one that offers new perspective and authority. Urrea said that while writing Hummingbird’s Daughter, “some of the most specific things about Mexico came to me in France.” Shteyngart added that he preferred to write in locations where he didn’t speak the language.

“I wrote most of [Super Sad True Love Story] in Italy—where they speak Spanish, I think.”

The writers all agreed they had trouble being labeled by their backgrounds.  “Mexicans call me a gringo, while Americans call me a Mexican writer,” Urrea said.

Shteygart claimed the Russian reviews of his novel read “Balding traitors betrays motherland.” But he did see some benefit. “Being an immigrant writer is lucrative,” Shteyngart said, adding that his publisher has a literary bat signal that illuminates the skyline whenever an international panel needs an oppressed writer.

Shteyngart also reflected on the premonitions of his satire (much of Super Sad True Love Story had to be rewritten because what seemed absurd when he was writing in 2006 came true in 2008). “That’s the trouble of being a smart ass: reality moves much too fast,” said Shteyngart.  “After this I’m just going to be a blogger.”

Covered by Benjamin Samuel.

PRIMAL IMPULSES AND PROSE

1. MG. 2.Writer Charles and emerging adult Abigail, waiting in line for The World in Fiction panel, with Jabari Asim, Russell Banks, and Mona Simpson.

People were lining up around the block, in the (almost) rain, preceding the Primal Impulses and Prose panel. “This is a booky clusterfuck!” I texted my editor. And it was.

Each of the three panelists (Mary Gaitskill, Ben Greenman, & Simon Van Booy) read a selection showcasing some kind of Primal Impulse. This led to an emotionally intense reading, so it was nice when Ben Greenman deviated from said topic for a moment to read his short “Blurbs”, which, as the piece states for itself, was kind of like if the blurbs from “The Bridges of Madison County and the blurbs from Infinite Jest” met and had a baby. Gaitskill managed to take a few breaks from looking intense and severe, and even smiled a couple times and cracked a few jokes. I appreciated her deflection of moderator Harold Augenbraum’s  question, who asked something about her intent when repeating the word “soul” so often in her story “Mirror Ball.” She said it wasn’t artistic – it was unavoidable. It was what the story was about, like how they use the word “ring” a lot in The Lord of the Rings.

POETRY AND PROSE

Monica Ferrell, Phillip Lopate, Katha Pollitt, and Maureen N. McLane took on the topic of “Poetry and Prose” and how the two forms informed and differed from each other. “One thing sends me to the other,” stated Pollitt. “…and they don’t always help each other. Sometimes poetry helps out the prose, but not the other way around.” Lopate said that poetry starts, for him, as a “churning in (his) gut”, and Ferrell agreed, saying that both her poetry and fiction writing required some sort of other-wordly inspiration, but poetry was more of a rhythm thing, while fiction had to do with a line of dialogue, or the ways that two characters interact. This was a group, as moderator Meghan O’Rourke described, that was “polymorphously perverse.”

THE WORLD IN FICTION

By 4 p.m. the crowd was soaked, many of them having just stood in the rain to hear Sarah Silverman and David Rakoff in front of the courthouse. Inside the building, Jabari Asim, Russell Banks, and Mona Simpson prepared to discuss The World in Fiction. The three panelists agreed that they preferred to write about characters that were on the fringe of major sociological events, or perhaps in the middle of them. As Banks said, one of fiction’s greatest strengths is that it is able to make dignified the inner lives of human beings, in a way that other art forms cannot. Because of this, he is able to get inside such difficult characters as the one in his upcoming novel, The Lost Memory of Skin, which is about a convicted sex offender living under the causeway in Miami. The authors also discussed why they preferred to write fictional narratives about events that happened to them in their own lives. Simpson said she preferred fiction because “life is too messy” and fiction gives it some structure.

Covered by Julia Jackson.

ONE STORY, ONE BOROUGH

1. One Story, One Borough-ers. 2. Not “acoustically wet,” just rainy.


Earlier this week, in the lead up to the Brooklyn Book Festival, One Story magazine dispatched volunteers to Brooklyn subway stations to hand out back issues featuring three Brooklyn-based writers. This Sunday those writers were on hand at BookFest to read from their work. However, because of rain that had already fallen and more rain that was yet to fall, the “One Story, One Borough” event was moved from an outdoor stage into the atrium of the Brooklyn Borough Hall.

All three readers tackled the new surroundings head on. James Hannaham (God Says No), up first and reading from his story “Interrupted Serenade,” noted that the atrium was the most “acoustically wet” space he’d ever read in and, though claiming not to be a singer, offered a few bars of “Amazing Grace” to take advantage of the vibrato.

Reif Larsen (The Selected Works of T.S. Spivet), reading from his story “The Puppet,” used the institutional echo to set the scene for his reading, inviting the audience to imagine the bombed-out library in 1995 Sarajevo that figures in the end of his story. Mr. Larsen then unflinchingly read from a separate, library-less scene much earlier in “The Puppet.”

Nonetheless, the scene-setting approach was stirring enough that Caedra Scott-Flaherty, the final reader, invoked it herself, ironically asking the crowd to imagine the echoing atrium as a car driving south through Mexico. Silently, and without fuss, the crowd rose to the challenge.

After the readings, when alerted to the Brooklyn-based motif of the event, Mr. Hannaham admitted that he thought the readers being locals was a matter of convenience, not theme. He lives only a short walk from the Borough Hall plaza where the festival was held. But the rain made nothing convenient on Sunday. Mr. Hannaham took the train to his relocated reading.

Covered by Judson Merrill.

FINDING THE FUNNY

1. Hodgman, bringing chair to justice. 2. All panelists, preparing with care.

Predictably, the writers on the Brooklyn Book Festival’s panel Finding the Funny: The Humor of the Everyday immediately turned the hallowed Borough Hall Courtroom into a circus. Humorists John Hodgman (The Areas of My Expertise), Sloane Crosley (How Did You Get This Number), and Kristen Schaal and Rich Blomquist (The Sexy Book of Sexy Sex) immediately took the initiative to move from the tables on the floor to preside over their audience from judge’s table above.

Microphones were rewired, chairs passed around, and seating rearranged while Hodgman appealed to the audience. “Does anyone here have a copy of my book?” It wasn’t a poll, he’d forgotten to bring a copy with him.

When all was settled and sufficiently feng shui, moderator Dan Fierman (GQ) called court into session by comparing comedy to pornography. “What does it for you, doesn’t necessarily do it for me.”

After reading from a borrowed copy of his compendium Areas of my Expertise, Hodgman threw the paperback into the audience—he drew the line of at the hardcover, though, that’d be going to far.

“This book will save lives,” said Schaal, who read an ode inspired by the Vagina Monologues. Never before has a taint been saluted in a courtroom without the speaker being held in contempt.

Asked by the audience whether he was concerned about exposing his best material on Twitter, Hodgman (who has close to 450,000 followers) said there was nothing to be gained by holding back material, adding “if you’re holding back, you’re ashamed of it.”

That’s what she said.

Covered by Benjamin Samuel.

Judson Merrill Responds to his Rejections

My literary career is young but it’s never too early to begin dusting the hard-to-reach shelves of posterity. For the benefit of scholars and fans alike, I will use this space on The Outlet, on a semi-regular basis, to release a selection of my correspondence and other papers. Enjoy. (Universities interested in acquiring the complete Judson Merrill archive should contact me through my web site.)

Dear Mid-American Review,

Thank you for your recent rejection. I appreciate your taking the time to read my story. I understand how careful you must be in selecting a cohesive body of work to present in the MAR.

Your communiqué, however, did leave me with a few concerns. You write, “We have decided your submission is not a match for us at this time.” I assume this means I should submit my story again at a more convenient time. I don’t want to be a pest, though, so please provide a concrete timeline. Would you like to review the story again for your next issue or next year? Anything’s fine, just let me know.

Also, confusingly, you close that same paragraph with, “We wish you the best of luck placing your story elsewhere.” Typo?

Thanks,
Judson Merrill

Dear Baltimore Review,

Thank you for your recent email informing me of your decision not to publish my submission. It’s good to know where we stand.

Your communiqué, however, did leave me with a few concerns. You write, “We appreciate the opportunity to read your work.” If you were that excited about my submission, I’m concerned you may have read it with unfair expectations. I’ve found that if I read the story expecting it to be awful, I’m pleasantly surprised. Indeed, my relief often morphs into a powerful urge to publish said story. I’ve reattached my submission under the new title “Eight Pages of Tripe” in case you want to try this fun experiment.

Best,
JM

Dear Strange Horizons,

Thank you so much for your recent rejection letter. How heartwarming to get an individual response, with actual human handwriting!

Your communiqué, however, did leave me with a few concerns. You mention that the story struck you as too predictable. That’s easily changed! What is the last thing you expected to happen in the story? Or maybe that’s too obvious. What’s the second to last thing you expected to happen? Maybe, just list five things you did not expect to happen at all and I’ll choose one of them for the new ending. Or not. You won’t know until you read the new draft.

Talk soon,
Judson

Dear Beeswax,

Thanks for your recent email. I know that there is a special pleasure to be had in rejecting my work and you probably couldn’t resist. I hope you enjoyed it as much as the scores of editors who have gone before you.

Your communiqué, however, did leave me with a few concerns. You write, “While we greatly enjoyed your piece, we cannot find a place for it at this time.” I’m afraid there might be some misunderstanding. I wasn’t asking you to place my story with another magazine. I wanted you to publish it in yours. Out of curiosity, though, where did you submit it? Hopefully not to the Mid-American Review. I think we should wait a few weeks before sending it back to them.

Write back,
J. Merrill

Dear Pebble Lake Review,

Congratulations on not accepting my story. In a way, I’m jealous. I bet it’s satisfying to grind out a man’s carefully kindled dignity.

Your communiqué, however, did leave me with a few concerns. You write, “We hope you will submit again in the future.” Many thanks! Since the story I submitted is my strongest, I will certainly send it again in the future. In fact, just this morning I found an embarrassing use of “than” when I meant “then.” In case that error is the reason you initially passed on the story, please find the corrected version attached. The future is now!

Look forward to hearing from you,
Judson

Dear Rambler,

Thanks for your email. I understand that there is a shadowy cabal of magazine editors bent on keeping me out of print to satisfy their own unknowable and sinister ends. I see now that you number among this hateful faction. Good to know.

Your communiqué, however, did leave me with a few concerns. You write, “We regret that your story does not meet our editorial needs at this time.” I’m not trying to be self-serving, but I truly believe life is too short for regrets. Perhaps you should change your needs and publish my story? Or die at 41 of a stress-induced coronary. Whichever you think is best.

Cheers,
Judson

Dear Mid-American Review,

Thanks, as always, for your thoughtful note.

You write, “We have seen this story before and have passed on it before. Please do not submit this story again.” However, please see the attached track changes document for proof that the last three submissions, though similar, have all been different drafts with different word counts and, in one case, a new title. Also please see the attached newest draft of my story. Trust me, it’s very different from anything you’ve seen before. I recently got five very good and surprising ideas for a new ending. Can you guess which one I chose? No. You can’t. It’s too surprising for guesses.

Enjoy,
Judson

* * *

The full Judson Merrill archives can be found here.

-Judson Merrill lives and writes in Brooklyn. Some of his work, including his e-novella The Pool, can be found at judsonmerrill.com.

Image courtesy of http://jasonbrockert.com/

Judson Merrill Researches his New Novel

My literary career is young but it’s never too early to begin painting the dilapidated façade of posterity. For the benefit of scholars and fans alike, I will use this space on The Outlet, on a semi-regular basis, to release a selection of my correspondence and other papers. Enjoy. (Universities interested in acquiring the complete Judson Merrill archive should contact me through my web site.)

Dear Professor Wentworth,

My name is Judson Merrill and I’m a novelist. I am currently at work on a new book. It will be a deeply human story about human frailty and human relationships. It’s called Only Human and it centers on Kyle Bouziez and his dying mother. I want the book to be true to the medicine at its core, which is why I’m writing to ask for your expertise as a medical professional, pre-eminent in your field. Also, I want the mother to be dying of something very rare and exotic. I was hoping you could give me a list of some super bizarre diseases. Feel free to note if any of the diseases have particularly literary symptoms, e.g. losing the ability to speak or forgetting what an allusion is or aging backwards or anything like that.

Prof. Wentworth,

Thanks so much for your list. Your brief descriptions of the diseases were captivating and almost all of them appeal as candidates for the book. In the end, though, it’s a no-brainer. (Not literally. That one was interesting, but how could a woman with no brain have and raise a child?) Kyle’s mother will have Fibrodysplasia ossificans progressiva. You are totally right that in addition to being super rare, FOP is super literary. Imagine, muscles and ligaments turning into bones. (I’m thinking of changing the title to What Doesn’t Bend Breaks.) I feel like I just won the lottery! Can you introduce me to anyone who has the disease? Ideal, I guess, would be someone who might be on their last (stony) legs and if, God forbid, they died before I finished the book, I could dedicate it to them.

Prof. W.,

Thanks for sending your colleague’s paper on FOP. I read it with great interest. Alas, it’s pretty clinical and hardly the stuff of great literature. I’m having trouble using it as a springboard for 206 Bones and Counting. (New title. What do you think?) Would it be possible for you to summarize how a doctor might explain this disease to a patient, i.e. in plain English? And maybe write about yourself in the third person. As if you were an attractive female doctor treating an older woman with FOP and giving the diagnosis to her son. In fact, feel free to spend a few lines describing your physique as well as your intelligence. And your no-nonsense yet playful attitude. And your name should be Dr. Esmeralda Greene, for the purposes of this summary. And you have green eyes.

P-Went,

Got your description of Dr. Greene handing down her diagnosis. Some of your prose is a little purple (best to leave the metaphors to me), but the science is impressive and is helpful as I begin to really get to know these characters. I wonder if, from a scientific stance, you’d be willing to share your impressions of how Esmeralda might behave on a first date with Kyle. Perhaps with a special focus on the tension between the excitement of a new relationship and the cloud cast by Kyle’s slowly ossifying mother. Also, keep in mind my new working title, Medusa’s Children.

Dubs,

I certainly can tell you’re not a professional novelist, but thanks for sending along the date scene. It’s invaluable research as I develop characters and build the narrative of My Bony Mother. But I won’t bore you with the arcane details of my craft. Any idea what should happen next in the book? From a medical standpoint?

Professor,

I have to say it was with some dismay that I received your latest pages. While your scene is sort of compelling, why has your prose taken on this hard-boiled, noir feel? If Esmeralda is a hard-drinking loner, how are things going to get started with Kyle? Or should I say, what have you done with Kyle? In my draft he’s about to take Esmeralda to his high school reunion but you’ve got him separated from his mother since he was a small boy and possibly now a former mobster in witness protection. Is that right? Well, then why is Esmeralda trying to track him down and warn him that he might have FOP? How could he even catch the disease if he hasn’t seen his mother in so many years? It just makes no sense. (And p.s., I think your title suggestion leaves a lot to be desired.) Again, let’s stick to our specialties. You provide the science and I’ll write the novel. Speaking of which, what’s your medical opinion of high school reunions?

Dear Professor Wentworth,

Congratulations on the release—and surprisingly strong sales—of your new novel, Double-Barreled Diagnosis. I read the book with great interest. Unfortunately I could not miss some disturbing similarities to the novel I’ve been working on for some time, parts of which I have shared with you. Please find enclosed the filing papers for my copyright infringement lawsuit. Also, seriously, please get back to me about high school reunions. That scene has me super stumped.

* * *

Previously:

Judson Merrill sends Letters to his Editor, tucks copy of story under Editor’s daughter’s sheets.

Judson Merrill writes to his local Indie Bookstore.

-Judson Merrill lives and writes in Brooklyn. Some of his work, including his e-novella, The Pool, can be found at judsonmerrill.com.

Judson Merrill writes to his Indie Bookstore

My literary career is young but it’s never too early to begin massaging the feet of posterity. For the benefit of scholars and fans alike, I will use this space on The Outlet, on a semi-regular basis, to release a selection of my correspondence and other papers. Enjoy. (Universities interested in acquiring the complete Judson Merrill archive should contact me through my web site.)

Dear Longfellow Books,


First, let me thank you for your many years of service to my hometown, the great city of Portland. These days there are fewer and fewer independent booksellers and it is heartening to see your store thrive and grow because it offers such a personal, human touch.

After years of receiving your emails sharing news and recommendations from the world of letters, I want to return the favor and share my own exciting literary update.

This week I released my new novel! Soldered in Half tells the dynamic story of a mechanical engineer with a dream but family obligations that threaten to weld that dream to earth. It’s edgy, but uplifting.

Please find below a link to Amazon.com where you can download Soldered in Half for your Kindle or other digital device with Kindle software. Being a brick-and-mortar store, you might not have a lot of experience with e-books but they present an exciting new opportunity for emerging authors such as myself to cut out the middlemen and reach readers directly.

And Soldered in Half has sparked an immediate connection with those readers. In the three days since the book has been available, it’s skyrocketed from 18,780th place in Amazon’s rankings to 7,400th. At this rate, Soldered in Half will be the number one seller on Amazon.com in two more days!

And I’d like to give you a chance to grab onto those coattails. I think Longfellow Books is the perfect promotional partner to help me build on the book’s early success. After all, you’re my local bookstore. Or, you were. Obviously, I couldn’t stay in Maine and make it as a writer. I’ve moved to the Big Apple and my bookstore here is a Barnes & Noble. Sure, they send me emails, too, but they’re mostly for massive online coupons. (Little do they know the discounted books I’m buying from them were recommended by an independent bookseller in Maine. Score one for the little guy!) Call me an idealist, but I don’t want to deal with that sort of anonymous corporation. Hypothetically, if I sent B&N an email similar to this one, 8 days might go by and I still haven’t heard back.

First, of course, you’ll want to read my book and make sure you feel (as I do) that we’re a natural team. So download the book (it’s just $9.99 — I tried to set the price higher but Amazon drives a hard bargain — lucky for you) and next time you’re walking around the shelves on a slow morning and need something to read you can reach (digitally) for Soldered in Half. I’m sure you’ll be drawn in by the gripping story. It’s trenchant, but approachable.

Once you’ve loved the book, I’m sure you’ll agree our first step is to set up a reading and book signing. Yes, it’s an e-book but I’ve done some experimenting and a sharpie works equally well on the back of a Kindle and human flesh. As far as reading dates go, I looked back through your old newsletters and it seems you give your biggest authors Thursday night slots, which is fortunate, since I’m free on Thursdays and can fly in for the event. (Don’t worry, I know times are tough for independent bookstores and I’m not going to stick you with a first-class airplane ticket. I’m happy to fly coach.)

With that event as our marketing springboard, I believe we can develop other exciting opportunities together. As an example, I know there are elderly or otherwise computer-illiterate readers who might suspect an electronic book is from the devil. In order to help us both reach that market, I am prepared to offer Longfellow Books the exclusive Maine rights to sell print editions of Soldered in Half. This is a new business model for a new millennium. Once we hammer out the details, you will be free to set up a terminal next to your New Fiction display, where customers can download the book and print it out on your printer. You won’t even have to shoulder the costs of hosting the file since it’s already posted on Amazon.

I could go on about the projects we might develop together, but for now allow me to close by giving you a taste of what readers are saying about Soldered in Half. The review most often voted helpful by Amazon’s users, by bookface234, reads, “Soldered in Half is … a roller-coaster … I’m speechless. The story [made me laugh] and [experience other powerful emotions.] This book absolutely … refunded … my full purchase price.” Another anonymous review said simply, “It’s lyrical, but resonant.”

Thank you much for your kind attention and I look forward to working with you.

Best,
Judson Merrill

* * *

Previously: Judson Merrill sends Letters to his Editor, tucks copy of story under Editor’s daughter’s sheets.

-Judson Merrill lives and writes in Brooklyn. Some of his work, including his e-novella The Pool, can be found at judsonmerrill.com.

Letters to my Editor

To The Editor,
Thank you in advance for your consideration of my enclosed fiction submission for publication in your magazine.

To The Editor,
Last week I submitted a story for publication in your magazine. A closer reading of your online submission guidelines has brought me to regret the tone of my initial email. You are not looking for stiff-necked writers who stand on formality nor do I fit that description. I write today to inform you that I am, in fact, too “out there” for two of my uncles who stopped coming to Thanksgiving years ago. They were boxed in by hegemonies, anyway. I know your magazine is looking for real writer’s writers who break molds and then make jello in ashtrays instead. I am your man. My story is titled Vacation from Hell.

To The Editor,
Today’s the day! It has been exactly two to three months since I submitted to your magazine. (I will probably get your response when the mail comes today.) In way of celebration, please find enclosed two important appendices to Vacation from Hell. The first is a picture of me for publication alongside my story. Please note my unorthodox attire considering I am pictured attending a bris. The second document is a companion reader to my story. Titled “Critical Essays on Judson Merrill’s Vacation from Hell” it offers a more complete examination of my fiction than your staff may have the time or expertise to provide. Please pay particular attention to the chapters “Giraffe Imagery” and “Autobiographical Influences.” I look forward to working with you.

To The Editor,
Thank you for your kind attention to the following apology for any letters I may have written to your magazine between midnight and 3 a.m. this morning. I was celebrating the newest draft of Vacation from Hell (enclosed). I imbibed too freely and, inadvertently, made a blood pact with a man named Woody that I would write hateful things to the person(s) who is most important to me. I assume I wrote to you. I have foggy memories of typing the phrases “Faulknerian idiot-man-child cum editor,” “long standing literary giraffe bias,” and “blood on your hands.” If any of this sounds familiar, I am most sorry.

To The Editor,
Last winter I submitted a story titled Vacation from Hell. Frankly, the length of time it has taken to reply to my submission is an insult. If I had gotten you pregnant back in January, instead of simply submitting a story, we would have already packed a bag for the hospital, mapped out our route, et. al. The big day would be upon us. So, if that’s all I am to you, a fake pregnancy you have no intention of pretending to deliver, than I need to know. And I need to know yesterday.

To The Editor,
I have hired a private detective to find out exactly what happened to my submission Vacation from Hell. Since my writing is my (potential) livelihood I need to keep careful track of it. My detective’s name is Gregor Freed and he is currently breaking into your office to retrieve any and all copies of my story from your offices and computers. Also, I have authorized him to leave fresh copies on the desks of all your editors, in the bathrooms, and in the pair of galoshes he found by the door.

To The Editor,
Thank you in advance for your kind attention to the tunnel I have excavated underneath your house. I have been living here for a week and enjoy your musical taste. I am writing to invite you to visit me any time to discuss my recent fiction submission, Vacation from Hell. I have previously been in contact with your staff and was under the impression my story was being considered. Nevertheless, I did some detective work on my own and discovered that at least five copies of my story were discarded before there was possibly time to read them. I knew you would want to know of this neglect which is why I am writing you personally. Again, my name is Judson Merrill and my story was titled Vacation from Hell (enclosed). I have recently placed copies in your coffee cup and Basquiat DVD case (that seemed to be the artiest movie you own). I also tucked a copy into your daughter’s sheets when she was at school today. I think she will appreciate its dark humor and, since she is family, I know she would be a trusted reader.

To The Publisher,
Thank you in advance for your consideration of my enclosed prison memoir, Giraffe Pen, for publication by your imprint. I believe you will find it haunting and visceral. I look forward to working with you.

- Judson Merrill lives and writes in Brooklyn. He’ll release an e-novella, The Pool, this summer. A few things can be found at judsonmerrill.com.