Puntitas hasn’t checked email since early Monday morning because she’s been incredibly busy. Today, Wednesday, she woke thinking that a response to her book-length manuscript would arrive soon. This noon, when Puntitas finally got online, she discovered that one arrived a few hours after she last logged on.
It’s a beautiful rejection, comforting and kind on the ego, but it is hard nonetheless. Puntitas cried a little over the state of poetry sales in presentday publishing, and that’s okay too.
It reads as follows:
Dear Puntitas:
Thank you for sending us a copy of your manuscript XXXX. I thought the poems that I read were wonderful–tough, powerful, and beautifully crafted. I’m sorry to have to pass on such compelling writing, but we’ve almost categorically avoided poetry projects in the last several years: no matter the quality of the writing, we haven’t found a way to get them to large audiences and recoup our expenses. I’m sorry to disappoint you on this, and I truly hope that you have better luck elsewhere.
Kindest regards,
Puntitas reads _Mistress Bradstreet_ by C. Gordon and _The Winthrop Woman_ by A. Seton.
