walk on the wild side

I was up last night, putting together a package to go to an agent. And enclosing the standard SASE. Although some aspiring writers will argue that this is unnecessary, and that enclosing return postage or a stamped envelope is only inviting rejection I will never be one of them. As far as I can tell, submitting at all is inviting rejection. The SASE is just the cherry on the rejection sundae.

But it occurred to me, last night as I was putting mine together, that I have been worrying needlessly. In the past, I’ve spent a couple of hours, trying to get the printer to feed envelopes, and worrying that my printed address was a little too low, and the return address was a little too high, and the whole thing was crooked. And maybe I should do it all again before sending.

It tended to pass the time, and gave me a great way to avoid writing. Or submitting.

Last night, I threw caution to the winds. I slapped a couple of pre-printed address labels on a blank envelope, added a stamp and called it a night. If that puppy comes bouncing back to me, I should be able to chose the instrument of my own destruction. Plain, white envelopes with sterile black lettering are depressing enough without putting a rejection letter inside.

And I like my address labels. They are the Universal monster series. They make me smile. I chose a Frankenstein and a Mummy.

I rejected Bela Lagosi’s Dracula as being too intimidating. He was staring. That’s not polite.

I may be wrong, but I figure by the time the agent is stuffing something in that envelope, I’m a couple of hours too late to make a good impression.

And as far as not looking like a flake?

Well I just started a full time, day job, complete with benefits and a cubical. It’s taking all my energy to play it straight and be an adult for 40 hours a week. I’ve been eating at my desk and keeping my mouth shut and my head down. I told them, if I come out of the cube and see my shadow, it’s 6 more weeks of winter. Why take the risk?

So far, I think I have everyone fooled.

But in hour 41, I’m getting my freak back on and cracking out the monster movie address labels.