What happens when you send a book out to the publishers?
Why, nothing does.
I sent my fantasy book to DAW, because I remembered them from a time when I read Fantasy and SF daily. Their website had promise; don't sent us the first three chapters or a query letter, it said, send the entire manuscript. You don't need an agent.
I followed all their instructions, including a SAS Card so reciept of my manuscript would be acknowledged by them. That was three weeks ago. Never got the card back. So, do they have the book? I wrote them an email. No answer.
I could call them.
"This is very important. I have reason to believe at least one, and possibly more of your departments at DAW Publishing has lost all electronic and surface communication with the outside world."
Come in Ragoon, Ragoon, come in.
Somewhere in a dark room there's a pile of boxes and large stuffed envelopes containing manuscripts no one wants to look at. My book may be there.
Or the Damned Zombies may be feeding on clerks brains in a suboffice of the small publishing house, snacking while reading.
As the Zombies read more, and eat more, they become smarter. They have plans on working their way up the sub structure, all the way to the top. To the editor's desk. Where the best brains are.
>>>>>>>>>
So waiting is waiting, on this the day I'm waiting to hear news Yvsa is out of surgery and still a feisty old fart.
munk
Why, nothing does.
I sent my fantasy book to DAW, because I remembered them from a time when I read Fantasy and SF daily. Their website had promise; don't sent us the first three chapters or a query letter, it said, send the entire manuscript. You don't need an agent.
I followed all their instructions, including a SAS Card so reciept of my manuscript would be acknowledged by them. That was three weeks ago. Never got the card back. So, do they have the book? I wrote them an email. No answer.
I could call them.
"This is very important. I have reason to believe at least one, and possibly more of your departments at DAW Publishing has lost all electronic and surface communication with the outside world."
Come in Ragoon, Ragoon, come in.
Somewhere in a dark room there's a pile of boxes and large stuffed envelopes containing manuscripts no one wants to look at. My book may be there.
Or the Damned Zombies may be feeding on clerks brains in a suboffice of the small publishing house, snacking while reading.
As the Zombies read more, and eat more, they become smarter. They have plans on working their way up the sub structure, all the way to the top. To the editor's desk. Where the best brains are.
>>>>>>>>>
So waiting is waiting, on this the day I'm waiting to hear news Yvsa is out of surgery and still a feisty old fart.
munk