My First Rejection from Hell

I received a fantastic letter today from another author, David Abrams.  David and I chewed some of the same dirt in Iraq, and we met through a mutual friend.  David had a number of good tips, but the most important wisdom he shared, was that I should be prepared for rejection.

Ignoring this, I sent an e-mail to the editor of Maxim.  Nothing long, just a concise two sentence e-mail, that basically said this is what I’ve got, and please can I have the guidelines for submission.

Why Maxim, you ask? 

I looked at my stories, and my audience.  While I would like civilians to read and absorb the things soldiers experience, soldiers read my stories and they understand them already, and most of them that do actually like them.  Soldiers read Maxim, or at least they buy it and look at the pictures.

I closed my mailbox, and went on to other diversions.  After a few hours, I thought about it again, so I checked it, expecting to see a link or a pasted body of text that would explain exactly what I would need to do in order to have my work rejected, so I could move on to the next rejection.

Instead, I get a reply from an undead called “Mailer-Daemon.”  

Not really an original name for one of Hell’s minions, I thought, but apparently his job was to interfere with my e-mail.  I inferred from the spelling of his name that this was a British demon, so at least he should be polite.  After all, he had sent me an e-mail telling me that he had zapped my e-mail with some of his evil power.

This guy was definitely straight out of the afterlife, because he even typed in some sort of Gothic gibberish.  I tried reading some of it out loud, and I managed to frighten my wife and children.  Maybe it was because I read it in a really low voice.

“It’s okay, honey, I’m just reading this e-mail I got from one of hell’s minions.”

“That’s nice, dear.  Let me know when you’re done so I can play Cityville.”

I guess there is no word in Hell’s dialect for “undeliverable,” and a few other key words, because I understood those parts.

I didn’t reply back to this British demon, because I didn’t really want to be friends with him, and it would be awkward not to accept his Facebook friend request, and next thing you know I've got a whole legion of followers.  So I just left it alone.  I’ll look for another e-mail address, and will eventually find the Maxim editor.

Meanwhile, I continue to write, maybe because I’m too stubborn to give up, and maybe because I like doing it.  You can find several of my short stories linked from my Facebook page, The Pen and The Sword.