August 16, 2006

The Giant Squid Loves Me!

I am the proud owner of one unopened can of beer that is 2,241.81 miles away. A few months ago I submitted a few of my essays to NPR. Well of course I never heard back from them so I just started emailing stuff to anyone with an in-box. I stumbled upon Poor Mojo's Almanac, an online publication with wild standards, and in a fit sent them Confessions of a Hypochondriac and quickly forgot all about it. Much to my surprise a few weeks later I received a letter from the editor of Poor Mojo's who refers to himself as The Giant Squid. Don't ask. I don't know why.

After giving me the good news that my piece had been accepted, The Giant Squid wrote:

If you are ever in Ann Arbor, MI, contact us poste haste; we owe you a beer (or comparable soft beverage of your choosing)-- a social engagement which I will likely relegate to one of my several sub-editors (I have few stray moments for beverage imbibing-- a squid's work is never done.).

Additionally, neglect not the enhanced remuneration plan: If you have five pieces published with us and have not retrieved a beer (or soft beverage), than you can exchange those promised beers for one t-shirt. This t-shirts are most appropriate to two-torso-limbed writers of the medium, large or extra-large variety, in either male or female flavor.

Of course, any physical remuneration is in addition to all-encompassing, world-wide fame and Glory stretching infinitely both backward and forward in time-- you shall still doubtless receive such as that.

All for the Best in the Best of All Possible Worlds,

The Giant


How did I get so lucky? My dear friend Shannon lives in Ann Arbor and has volunteered to pick up my beverage for me. I'm tempted to accept her offer just so we can determine what manner of being this Giant Squid is. But perhaps I should hold out for the two-armed tee shirt. It sounds irresitably shirt-y.

This evening I received another email from an editor from an online publication called flashquake with news that a modified version of Loose Ends that I submitted had been accepted for inclusion in their publication. This editor actually had a normal humanoid name and informed me of my "stipend" that I should expect to receive in the mail. Ten big ones. No, not beers - bucks. I'm moving up in the world. I think I'll showcase my first (and probably last) check next to my unopened beer can on my bookshelf next to my wedding photos. Eat your heart out, NPR. I've achieved worldwide fame and glory without you!


Kristine said...

Congratulations! How exciting to be hearing back about long lost submissions! I would definitely hold out for the shirt. My kids love them for pj's!

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Anonymous said...

Sara and/or Adam:

Alan from the Poor Mojo's Newswire...

Now, you're even more famous-er!

Thanks for contributing.

c jane said...


And how true that a squid's work is never done!


Th. said...


Hey! Congratulations!

And I always heard the shotgun approach doesn't work....

bill said...

The free weekly paper here in Seattle just had a story about a freelance writer dealing with rejection from every publication in town. Worth a gander.

Stephanie said...

Hey, at least you're trying. I'd go for the shirt too. You can wear your success for all to see! Plan to frame that $10 so you can point it out to the Pulitzer committee whenever they choose one of your pieces for "Best Short Story Ever"? Congrats and I'm proud of you!

Th. said...


Gee whiz.

They're only giving me five dollars.