Thanks For Everything, Mr. King
Jonathan Lowe

Jonathan Lowe is author of POSTAL, an Earphones
Award-winning suspense novel on audio, read by
Frank Muller {at www.pubmills.com},
and MYSTERY & MIRTH FOR ANYONE STUCK IN
TRAFFIC, a 90 min. production of radio plays
from Books on Tape at www.booksontape.com/
bookdetail.cfm/5233. He is also an audiobook
reviewer, a judge in the Audie Awards, and lives
in Tucson.
©Copyright 2001
Jonathan Lowe

December 2
Dear Sir,
While we at Stillwater Press appreciate your considering us as a
possible publisher for your “new potential bestseller,” we
nonetheless find it inappropriate for our audience, which consists
mainly of formerly devout Catholics in search of inner peace as they
leave the faith to follow humanistic, non-religious lifestyles. In other
words, we do not publish advice or self help books purportedly
rendered by fictitious and/or mythic gods or goddesses. Your
suggested title ZEUS COMES OUT, while amusing, would hardly
resonate with our readers, nor would any of the other titles which
you propose for the book, such as THE WORLD ACCORDING TO
ZEUS, or ZEUS ON MARS-AND VENUS, or ZEUS VISITS MAIN
STREET-AND WALL STREET, and especially not CHICKEN SOUP,
ANYONE?-FAVORITE RECIPES FROM MT. OLYMPUS. No doubt
you will try all the major publishing houses with your “new
potential bestseller” under these and other titles, but they will turn
you down too. How do I know this? Because you cite Stephen
King’s latest bestseller, ON WRITING, as your inspiration. A book
which tells everyone in the world that they should be writers too.
But I must ask you, sir, does the world really need more writers, or
more readers?
Normally, when a publisher rejects a book, it returns the book
with a pre-printed form rejection letter or slip, sometimes of pastel
color, saying what I am saying here: ie., that it “doesn’t meet our
needs at this time.” I am taking the time to write you this letter
because you may not be getting the message, even after receiving a
sufficient number of such rejection letters to compress into slow
burning logs and keep a family of four cozy for their winter in
Alaska. What am I saying? Simply that no one is going to publish
this book, sir. Do you understand? No one. Not Bantam, not Warner,
not HarperCollins, not Aardvark Press of Newark. Not even St.
Martins. If you want it published, I suggest calling the 800 number
to Vantage Press, and getting out your checkbook. Although I must
tell you, even they may be reluctant. For whoever publishes your
“new potential bestseller,” it will inevitably be used as fill under
freeways once it bombs on the thrift shop circuit at ten cents a
copy.
Somehow I feel the need to emphasize this, and to rephrase it for
you. You will never be on Oprah either, sir. Trust me. I know that
Stephen King put all these dreams in your head, but I promise you
won’t even be reviewed by the Wickenburg Sentinel or the
Clucksbury Gazette. The only radio you will ever be heard on is
Channel 14, but only if you happen to own a CB. The truckers who
hear you will probably switch to Channel 15, or tune in Waylon
Jennings on the AM once they hear whatever title you ultimately
arrive at choosing. Am I getting through to you yet? If I didn’t have
a conscience, I would suggest a book doctor or editorial service
which will charge you two thousand dollars only to make your
manuscript even less marketable, but many of those people are now
either in jail or under indictment.
Give it up, sir, and get a life! You do not need to do this to
yourself. Did you know there are literally hundreds of thousands of
bored housewives, plumbers, sales clerks, bartenders, and fruitcake
salesmen who, just like yourself, also hope to add “published
author” to their name, and are willing to give up their other
identities, their free time, their hobbies, their friends, and even their
religions to do it? Do you have any idea how many people are
writing books and screenplays, many of which are actually good,
but which will never, ever see the light of day? And this was
BEFORE King’s book was ever written. Here’s the bottom line: if
you’re not famous already, you have a better chance playing the
lottery, sir. That’s the truth, or the Pope’s going to be a ball boy at
Wimbledon next year. Do you understand any of this?
We are a tiny press, sir, with a niche audience. By “we,” of
course, I mean just me and my wife Allison, when she isn’t selling
real estate or burping the baby. If I thought you had a creamsickle’s
chance in Hades of having a “potential bestseller” here, do you not
think that I would snatch it and buy it instead of using the time I’ve
set aside for cutting the grass to write you this letter? Why am I
doing this? I am asking myself this question, now. Call it charity, a 
favor. You owe me big time, I think, sir. In fact, I’ve just now
decided to do you yet another monumental favor by destroying
your manuscript instead of returning it. The U.S. Postal Service and
my ex-lawyer Bernie both tell me that anything which I receive
unbidden in the mail becomes my property to do with as I please. I
can only pray that you do not possess another copy of this
“potential bestseller” to continue your charade, and I do not want to
know if you do. I will sleep better that way, my service to humanity
realized.
Someday you will, perhaps, thank me for curing you of this
addiction, sir, which can be just as overwhelming and lifeconsuming
as sports addictions or counting one’s rosaries. Let us
leave the bestseller lists to the famous, the lucky, and moderately
gifted, and just get on with our lives, shall we? I see no other way
to maintain sanity in an unfair, superficial, and illiterate WWFwatching
world.
Sincerely, regretfully, mercifully,
Simon O. Schwartz, publisher
• • •
December 9
Dear Editor,
I’ve enclosed a copy of the potential bestseller I believe you’ve
been looking for all your life. It’s title is, simply, YING AND YANG’S
GUIDE TO LIFE AND DEATH. I’ve been working for 48 hours
without sleep or food, and am now satisfied that this is my final
draft. It feels complete, and so do I.
Hopefully yours,
Walter H. Pascot, Jr.
• • •
December 15
Dear Mr. Pascot,
I believe I’ve seen a manuscript like this recently. The title is
different, as are the names of the characters to whom you imbue
your bizarre viewpoints on various aspects of family life, the arts,
religion, philosophy, and the Survivor shows. I would suggest that
you consult an editorial service or book doctor to get your thoughts
in line, and I would be happy to suggest one for you. However, we
at Hammonds-Rickter Publishing of Omaha will have to decline this 
{and all future correspondence} from you. Best of luck to you in the
future as you continue to pursue your career in plagiarism.
Cordially yours,
Bernard Apperson, editorial assistant {and ex-lawyer}
• • •
December 29
Dear Editor,
Enclosed find my manuscript titled THE 12 STEP PROGRAM FOR
SPORTS FANATICS. It has the potential to be a bestseller, as you
will soon see. Do you have any idea how many people-how many
plumbers, bankers, sales clerks, and chimney sweeps are addicted
to sports? It is totally insane, what people are doing to themselves.
And for what? Just to watch some overpaid “god” or “goddess” toss
a ball into a goal? There are other things in life to think about
besides sports, and we need to get back to those things. Now, at
last, here’s help!
Game, Set, and Match?
Walter H. Pascot, Jr.
• • •
Jan. 4
Dear Mr. Pascot,
We enjoyed reading the opening to your book, but we here at
Dobbs Ford/Honda/Jeep primarily publish car owners manuals and
not literary works to be sold in bookstores. May I suggest calling
Vantage Press, in your telephone book’s yellow pages? Or that you
pick up a copy of Stephen King’s bestseller ON WRITING. Hope
that helps.
Best,
Eddie Hatcher, printer’s apprentice
PS} Your book’s title doesn’t seem to match the manuscript you
sent us. Not much about sports here, just other stuff. What’s wrong
with sports, anyway? Did you know Dennis Miller is now doing
Monday Night Football?
• • •
JAN 18
Dear Editor,
Enclosed find my latest manuscript, titled THE OFFICIAL GANG
GRAFFITI FIELD GUIDE. As you know, the symbols found scrawled
on buildings and subway cars can sometimes be indecipherable.
You can’t stop it, so why not try to understand it? Surprisingly, these
“young punk taggers” are really misunderstood artists and poetic
philosophers with real points of view, which they are trying to
express. Craving a meaningful identity and some answers in life,
they too deserve to be heard, and deserve to have their language
interpreted too. Here in this book everything is explained, allowing
both the jogger and streetwalker alike to learn as much as if they
had graduated from gang skool in the ‘hood. Certainly, given the
millions spent on graffiti cleanup each year, this book will be the
next bestseller. So. . .
Whatdayasay?
Wally Pascot, Jr.
• • •
Feb. 6
Dear Wally,
I’m afraid the handwriting’s on the wall on this one. No go. Nice
try, though. Are you aware that we are being sued by nine school
districts in four states? It would therefore be inappropriate for us to
publish such a book, even if we felt there was any hope the tabloid
reading public might buy it. I would suggest you try finding a small
press with a niche market for such humor. I’ve enclosed a case of
sample spray paints in case that doesn’t work out, but good luck
anyway.
Best wishes,
John Cordlandt, VP, Richland Publishing,
a division of Truebright Paint Products
• • •
Feb. 27
Dear Editor,
Enclosed find my manuscript, titled THE NEXT BESTSELLER. You
will note that I have left off my name from the manuscript. I wish to
be referred to as “Anonymous.” The novel is about a man who 
mails letter bombs to publishers, book reviewers, and agents with
whom he has-or has not-had dealings with in the past. He is a
philosopher, a bit of a poet, and now follows the outline of his last
unpublished novel, which is discovered in his abandoned apartment
in manuscript form. He is a driven man, with repressed urges and
desires-a lonely man with an alcoholic past, and an obsession to
be recognized and published at any cost. He wants to be another
Stephen King, while calling out for pizza and avoiding family or
potential friends. An abused child with limited self esteem, his
primary diversion has-indeed-been surfing internet web sites
linked to porn and high explosives. But once, late at night, he
called out for pizza and got the Oval Office by mistake. The
President told him a secret, again by mistake. So now he is in
hiding, fearing for his life. Why? Because they have traced his
phone call, afraid he will publish what he knows. He is on the run,
this sick, twisted killer, but still angry at everyone in general, and
the press in particular.
Et tu?
Anon
• • •
March. 9
Dear Anon,
We have read your manuscript with great interest. The vivid
imagery of the writing is evident throughout, and the anger which
forms the motive force behind the plot is incredibly believable. Your
main character possesses an original flair for succinct truths and
askance moralizing which does not detract from his obsessive
compulsion to exact revenge on those who have snubbed him. The
novel has all the elements we look for in a story, too, including
dramatic tension, intrigue, irony, wit, and insight into the human
dilemma. Told with such power and imagination, we wonder what
your real name is, and have, in fact, a pool of editors and janitors
here who have placed bets that you really ARE Stephen King, or
James Lee Burke, Tom Wolfe, Christopher Buckley, or William F.
Buckley. Which is it? It is difficult to decide, as your writing
possesses elements from all these writers. It is enigmatic and
fascinating, too, the references you make to Greek gods, and to
gang graffiti, basketball, the Papacy, and the U.S. Postal Service. We
are still trying to figure out how all the subplots fit together so well,
and how you managed to achieve it. We really believe you have a
potential bestseller here, and would like your permission to publish
the manuscript in hardcover, and to represent it to a major house 
for paperback and movie rights. Our standard contract is for fifty
percent of subsidiary and foreign rights, but we are prepared to
offer you seventy-five percent as your share, if you sign with us
within the coming week. Please contact us or have your agent
contact us regarding a negotiable advance on royalties. {I see no
reason why we cannot talk six figures, here. I will mortgage my
house for it, if I have to.} You will not be on Oprah, of course. After
all, this is not her kind of book, and you do wish to remain
Anonymous, right? But we can almost guarantee a Book of the
Month club main selection, and quotes from every big wig in the
business, including, perhaps, the President of the United States
himself.
Thank you for submitting your manuscript to my attention. The
discolored and soiled envelope really spooked me, I have to admit.
Especially since there was no return address, and it had oil stains,
and a piece of wire sticking out. But all’s well that end’s well, they
say. And yours does end well. Very well, indeed, sir.
Gratefully, respectfully yours,
Thomas F. Sinclair, President
Aardvark Press