Diary of a Mad Editor

Archive for the ‘Wannabes’ Category

He’s Says He Was Only Joking, but I’m Thinking He’s Just a Joke

You ever hear the saying, “when you’ve dug yourself into a hole, quit digging”? Well . . . that’s some good advice for Mr. Dean Grondo, wannabe story writer who was featured in a previous post, “He Must’ve Written His Story in Crayon.” Grondo decided to respond to that post with the following comment:

“You guys are makin’ me giggle
I think Cindy and everybody missed the part where it says,
‘Due to time constraints I’m forced to use this form letter and I offer my apoligy for this.’
It’s a fucking joke!
Sorry Cindy, whoever you are, that my apparently bad joke screwed with your head. But, how could you guys not know that this was a joke?!!!!!!!!!!Insofar as my FALLOUT from all this….
Boo Fucking Hoo”

— Dean Grondo

Don’t get me wrong, people — I sincerely love comments and wish I got more of them, but explain to me how this comment helps Dean Grondo argue his case. He must belong to the wine of the month club (read: “whine”). I don’t believe Grondo was “joking” when he responded to Cindy’s rejection of his story and I will get to that in a moment. First, though, let’s assume for the time being that Grondo was joking. What was the point of his joke? Why would anyone receiving his “joke” find it amusing? I’ve stated this before and I guess it’s one of those things I’ll be repeating over and over (because you can’t repeat things often enough for the brain dead fucking retarded among us), but if you absolutely must respond to a rejection, respond with a polite “thank you” for taking the time to read the submission. Because a little good will goes a long way.

Now I don’t believe this “joke” was intended as a joke because it obviously was made solely to amuse the douchebag who sent it and not intended to entertain Cindy. And considering the nature of Grondo’s rejected story (according to Cindy because, like I stated in the post, I didn’t read it) Grondo either didn’t read or intentionally disregarded Yellow Mama’s submission guidelines, which in itself can and does ruffle the feathers of a hard-working editor. So we have a guy who doesn’t respect editors, who doesn’t respect the submission process and thinks it’s perfectly reasonable to attack editors who don’t automatically bow down before his awesome ego.

Grondo should’ve taken my advice and simply apologized for being an asshole. Of course, I’ve never met a genuine asshole who was at all apologetic about being an asshole so I didn’t really expect an act of contrition from him. But, even an asshole should know when he’s beat. Now that the shoe is on the other foot, Grondo should just shut up and wear it. Because, while I can’t speak for Cindy, I can certainly do this until they drag my corpse away. So if he thinks he knows what fallout is . . . just keep digging that hole, brother.

He Must’ve Written His Story in Crayon

I think I mentioned in a blog awhile back that editors of literary magazines gossip about writers just like writers trade gossip about editors. Yes we do. We chat about writers we like and writers who are difficult, dreadfully untalented or a few cans short of a six-pack. And so, it wasn’t much of a surprise when Cindy Rosmus, editor of Yellow Mama emailed me today to ask me if I’d ever heard of a guy named Dean Grondo:

John:
Attached is the correspondence between me & this complete asshole whose story I rejected on 9/4.
Ever hear of this jerk?
If not, be forewarned!

I hadn’t heard of him. Cindy was irked to say the least about a rude response to a rejection she’d sent him. Apparently, he’d submitted a story. I haven’t read the story so I cannot attest to the fairness of the initial rejection — although, knowing Cindy, I suspect she had good reason to give the man the big kiss-off:

Dear DC:

Thanks for sending “You Have God to Be Kidding.” Sorry, but I can’t use it for YELLOW MAMA.
Good luck placing it elsewhere.

Sincerely,

Cindy Rosmus,

YELLOW MAMA

But, this guy responded with the following:

Every 6 weeks it’s the same fucking thing! I send these goddamned “What happened to my story?” flares out to you incompetant assholes who wouldn’t know how to publish a fucking Bazooka Joe gum wrapper! So: WHERE’S MY STORY?! DID YOU USE IT? WHERE’S FUCKING THE MONEY!? Due to time constraints I’m forced to use this form letter and I offer my apoligy for this.
Dean Grondo

PS: YOU GOT MY ADDRESS FOR THE MONEY?!

Nice, huh . . . Way to impress an editor, guy. Seriously, I don’t know what I find more insulting — his tone or the fact that he seems to be an illiterate fucktard.

Cindy responded:

Dear DC:

Check the date on this. You’ll see I didn’t wait 6 weeks, just 5 days and I am not an “incompetent asshole. ”

That is no way way to write a query letter.

Cindy Rosmus.

YELLOW MAMA

Apparently, this cretin is starting to get a bit of a reputation for this sort of behavior with editors who reject his work. One editor (who didn’t want to be named on this blog) reported his own encounter with Dean Grondo this way:

. . . he sent me something once, and I told him in a very polite way I couldn’t use it, and he called me, quote: ”An unprofessional faggot punk.” I told him, he was an unprofessional asshole, and he replied ”You wouldn’t say that to my face.”
To which I replied, ”Oh, yes, I WOULD.”
Stay clear of him. I think he is unbalanced. “

Unbalanced? Who knows? But he’s certainly not an uncommon occurence in the small press and he’s certainly not original. What he is, truly, is dumb, dumb, dumb. Just a widdle ole baby kicking and screaming in his widdle ole baby bedding. And that’s too bad. It’s counter-productive for any writer to take a rejection personally. Getting one rejection from an editor doesn’t necessarily mean that everything you will submit to that editor will be rejected in the future. So, who really loses when a writer, having gotten a rejection, responds with an insult? The editor? No. Hell no! An editor has plenty of material to choose from, so he doesn’t need your work in particular. He will just stick your name on his personal blacklist and probably warn other editors about your dumb ass — and they’ll tell 2 editor friends and they’ll tell 2 editor friends and so on . . . and so on . . . . You will get the reputation for being an asshole. Even if you are a decent writer, you will eventually get to a point where almost no one will read your work. And if you are a shit writer and you have the personality to match . . . well, you see my point, don’t you. So let that be a lesson to you, Dean Grondo. Were I you, I’d write a nice, long apology letter to Cindy and any other editor you’ve ticked-off with plenty of ass-kissing and groveling. Blame your behavior on an aneurysm or a personality disorder. Who gives a fuck? Just get your mind right if you want to be a writer and be taken seriously and respected.

Failure is More Instructive than Success

My niece, Jacy, amazes me sometimes.

She’s fifteen and is constantly busy with some activity or other. She’s an honor student, is the only female trombone player in the high school marching and jazz bands, member of the tennis team, yearbook, and an honors student to boot. She’s popular and has miles of friends. She loves to ride horses. Jacy is probably the closest thing I will ever have to a daughter of my own and I’m rather proud of her much of the time. In many respects she’s living the teenage experience I could only dream of when I was in high school.

But, most weeks her biggest problems revolve around english saddles
v. western or whether or not she’ll have a ride to the Mall and Jacy whines about the littlest, dumbest things. The smallest, most insignificant adversities will throw her off her game and send her into a fit of crying and raging. Part of this can be chalked-up to the fact that she is a teenage girl and a Scorpio, but I think it has a lot more to do with the fact that kids today have such lofty expectations. They want what they want and can’t envision a universe that doesn’t surrender it to them. It’s more than optimism — it’s a hardwired sense of entitlement. And while having that sense of entitlement, tends to make them more adventurous and more resolute, it doesn’t really teach them anything about rolling with the punches life throws at you. One could say the same thing about many writers. Some writers operate under the delusion that the literary world owes them some reward just because they put words on paper and when their delusion is challenged, rather than learn from the obstacles thrown in their path, they throw a little hissy fit.

If you are a writer you know this to be true: We learn more from our missteps than from our successes. If you are a writer who operates much like a spoiled teenager, you will never truly evolve. If you are incapable of acknowledging and embracing your failures, you will not learn the lessons failure and adversity can teach you.

Here’s what failure has taught me:

1. The universe doesn’t revolve around me — I revolve around the universe. Who knows? You may well be a major talent — motherfucking star, but always remember you are but one among billions. The art of writing isn’t really about you. It’s about the universe around you. Get over yourself and explore the universe.

2. Perfection is largely a myth — rather, it is the lining up of imperfect parts into a more interesting whole. So, give yourself permission to fail. Most things in life were achieved after a lot of trial and error. Experiment. Line-up the imperfect pieces and see what you can make of it. See rejection as an opportunity to move in new directions or at least refine what has come before.

3. Sometimes the act of doing something is more rewarding than the result itself. If you enter into a writing project with a preordained goal in mind, e.g. “I am writing story X to get it published in magazine Y,” you will probably be disappointed in the result a lot of the time if magazine Y continually rejects it. Always write in the moment. Don’t concern yourself with magazine Y or literary agent Z until after you’ve finished the story. Enjoy the act itself, the flow of words onto paper — everything else is just a distraction.

4. Always remember that your only real competition is your future self. You’re only as good a writer as the next best thing you write. It’s not about what other writers are writing or what you’ve written in the past. Every writing project begins with a clean slate. Always look forward, not backward or off to the side to see who’s gaining on you.

5. Don’t whine. Nobody appreciates a whiner and crying about this editor over here who didn’t publish your best story or poem, or that contest you didn’t win, or that writer over there who’s more successful than you, is a waste of your time and energy. Instead, redirect your energies into being a better writer and a better human being.