Rejections I've Received When Submitting Humor Pieces

BY FRANK FERRI

If you’re trying to write humor, get ready for lots of rejection. And if you’re ever feeling dejected, just read the below editorial rejections and think about what I went through. Don’t feel bad for yourself. Empathize with me, you selfish bastard. Frank, this one made me chuckle. But then I realized I was thinking about another submission I read earlier. I’m going to pass on this one. But if it makes you feel any better, I’m going to accept that other piece—the one that made me chuckle. Frank, this one made me giggle. But only because it reminded of me of something funny that my niece did the other day. So cute. She’s only four, but her humor is highly evolved. I think I’m going to talk to her about submitting some of her stuff to us. Anyway, I’m passing on this one. Frank, see attached for my response. Actually, I’ll save you time. It’s just a Word doc that says, “I’m passing on this.” It also has your name crossed out inside clip art of the Ghostbusters symbol. Frank, this one made me sneeze. Going to say no. Frank, this one also made me sneeze, and it’s starting to freak me out. It could be a coincidence, because I’ve had this nagging cold. But I don’t want to take any chances, so I’m passing. Thanks for the look, though. Frank, great news! My cold is finally gone. Didn’t sneeze while reviewing your submission. But I did fall asleep as I read it, drooled on my keyboard, and had to send my laptop back to the manufacturer for repair. Needless to say, I’m passing. You’ll understand that I need to send you the bill for the damaged computer. Frank, this one made me laugh, but not to the point of having me in stitches. Keep trying. Frank, well, after reading this submission, I’m in stitches. But only because I had an emergency appendectomy. So I can’t credit you for the stitches. That would be cheating. Sorry. Frank, you hard-hearted asshole. I’m passing on this one. When an editor tells you that he just had emergency surgery to remove his appendix and also provides you with his mailing address and link to his Amazon.com wish list, well, you send something, Frank. You send something. Being cheap is unbecoming. I just wish your parsimony extended to your writing. You send way too many submissions. Frank, it’s to the point where I actually cringe when I see your name in my inbox. Frank, thanks for the electric teakettle from Amazon. Completely unexpected! Works like a charm. And I also love this humor piece you sent. Great stuff. Passing, though. It wouldn’t be ethical to accept a gift and in return publish a story. I know what you’re thinking: Return the teakettle and publish the piece. Problem solved, right? Sorry. I used the teakettle a ton already. Plus, it’s been more than 30 days. So my hands are tied. Besides, I really love it and don’t want to part with it. Sorry… and thanks again. Frank, I like the concept, but it needs more jokes. A lot more jokes. Packed with funny to the point that it’s going to make me laugh a maniacal cackle. A cachinnation so creepy that fear flashes across the face of my girlfriend, and my dog buries his ears underneath his paws. A laugh that starts innocently enough but then turns into a scary howl—a howl so powerful that it causes me to fall and smack my head on the corner of my brick fireplace causing severe damage to my orbitofrontal cortex, which in turn causes me to go on a remorseless killing spree. Hope that helps. Frank, no blood on my hands, no publication for you. Read my previous advice. Frank, great job! I just killed 12 innocent people and critically wounded three others after reading your hilarious piece. It was that funny. But I just don’t think it fits with the kind of humor we’re looking to run right now. Sorry. But I am looking forward to your next submission. Please send it via snail mail to the Department of Corrections (address below). Please know that responses will be extremely delayed (25 years to life, depending on the skills of my court-appointed attorney).