In Deep Smit– 09/12/08

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I am getting these Deep Smit posts out later and later. Work has just been beyond busy lately, as I’ve been working more than usual to accommodate some of my staff’s schedule requests. But the upside of that is that once I leave here tomorrow, I don’t have to work another overnight shift for more than a week!

Time off rocks, of course, but that’s not what I’m in Deep Smit with this week.

I’m in Deep Smit with my husband, affectionately known online as “Mr. Kiddoc” since “Kiddoc” is my usual online username. This is not to say that I don’t usually love my husband… of course I do. But every once in a while something happens that endears the one you love to you all over again.

Mr. Kiddoc loves the FreeCreditReport.com commercials. All of them. The commercial starts and I watch his head start to bob, which is usually followed by approximately 30 minutes of him humming the jingle under (and over) his breath.

But that’s not why I’m in Deep Smit with Mr. Kiddoc, either.

I am deeply smitten with my husband’s concern for the FreeCreditReport.com guy’s “Dream Girl”.

If you haven’t seen the commercial

Mr. Kiddoc’s thoughts:

If she’s his dream girl, why can’t he get past whatever happened with her credit? I mean, she’s not lazy or anything… look… she’s doing the laundry while he’s standing around playing the guitar. That’s just not right.

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Sorry, folks, he’s off the market. Photobucket

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What I’ve Learned, Part III

This is tangentially related to Part II.

When in doubt, err on the side of making it easy to contact you.

A few months ago, I attended a lecture on “What to Do After ‘The End'” by author Sean Chercover.

When asked what he would do differently if he was seeking agent representation today, he told us he would never have enclosed the self-addressed stamped envelopes, as they are only used to mail rejections, and he would have preferred no response.

I wavered when I sent out my handful of letters, but in the end, my Catholic school-girl obsequiousness led me to include them.

So today, when I saw my last AWOL SASE sitting in my mailbox, I expected a rejection. (I know I need to send out more letters, but since my resolution to become a query player, I’ve been distracted. My husband and I discovered we’ve been victims of identity theft, and that has taken up all our free time lately. But that’s another story).

I opened it over the trash, in fact. And barely glanced at the first line in time to catch it before it fluttered into a pile of coffee grounds.

Another partial request. In my SASE.

No, seriously.

So, send SASE’s to those who request them (which is virtually everyone who accepts queries by snail mail). And read whatever comes back in those familiar envelopes. Might actually be good news!