Two Fictional Cover Letters I Wish I Would Have Sent

Dear Hazeltap Vintagepoke,

I rarely read. I can’t concentrate very well when I try, and I have very little time for such indulgence. I’m surprised I even have time to write you today. I have been monitoring a friend of mine for the past week. He is close to perfecting the ability to turn into a werewolf. Progress has been slow but he’s trying very hard and I am supportive. I’m sure it will happen any night now and I want to be there for the transformation. He has agreed that if he still has the capacity to comprehend good and evil to spare my life and bolt into the nearby hills instead of clawing and biting me into pieces. This is awfully big of him, I think.

But as I was saying I don’t get a great deal of time to read so I’ve not seen anything published in your magazine. No worries. I am adroit and have excellent reflexes and can adjust to things easily. I picked up this ability while learning to climb cliffs along the Appalachian Mountain Range. There is a cluster of cliffs just across the street from my home and I have climbed them dozens and dozens of times. The skills I have acquired from this activity I believe go without saying.

In closing I will say your magazine was chosen at random following a hat drawing that took place at a community park near my house called the Long Fork Community Park. I wrote the names of numerous magazines on small slips of paper and asked someone to pull one from the hat. Your magazine was the cream, the one. I was happy for this for no real reason I can rightly explain.

Thanks in advance,
Sheldon Lee Compton

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Dear Joseph Hottentotter,

I have a story for you to consider, but first there's something I must say. I’m melancholy tonight. Also, in our various meetings about what work might fit best for your magazine, I recall things, funny statements flung from you to me and now back to you and anyone else who accidentally reads this.

#1: Phil Spector looks like he has a tumbleweed on his head.

#2: Someone else take care of every problem I have.

#3 (A portion of conversation as the lunch hour approached):

Me: How about Billy Ray’s?
You: What kind of stuff do they have there?
Me: I don’t know. Like open face roast beef sandwiches. Things like that.
You: What kind of satchels do they give you with the meals?

#4: He can’t help his face. (This said after hearing criticism about Clint Eastwood seeming a parody of himself in Gran Turino).

#5 (An exchange about the merits of St. Patrick’s Day):
You: He chased snakes out of Ireland.
Me: That’s cool.
You: It’s also impossible.


Thanks for the consideration,
Shel