Dear Publisher

Dear Publisher,

I don’t even know how to start this letter because I’m just so blown away. And to think that I had to hear from my best friend that you had gone in the middle of the night. How could you leave and not tell me first, after all we had together? Everyone knew you had skipped town before I found out--I thought I knew you better than that. I thought we had something together.

This is partly my fault because ever since we got serious late last year, I’ve been completely crazy about you. It’s kind of embarrassing to admit it now, but I had dreams about you nonstop before we hooked up. I just wanted this to work so much. It never occurred to me that we wouldn’t be together forever. I really never saw this coming.

But I guess what this is really about is that, even though I was acting like some lovesick teenage girl all this time, I still should’ve been given some kind of warning. 

I guess I wanted it to go more like, you come to me and tell me this isn’t working out for you anymore, then assure me that it’s not another writer. I’m a little caught off guard (obviously) but I get it because I’m a grown adult and have been through this before. We talk a little bit about all the good memories, and what we would’ve done differently if life had do-overs. 

Then we hug it out and I do this cool gesture with my hand that symbolizes freeing you from our relationship. You walk away confidently, and I stand there watching you--all solemn--like I’m not already thinking about other publishers to query when I get back home.

I know that this is just a rough time in your life. You’ve got a lot going on. I get that and we’re totally cool. I know you can’t see it, but right now I’m doing yet another cool hand gesture that symbolizes me forgiving you for changing your email address so I can’t contact you about the rights to my story.

Yours truly,

The writer you burned