Misread the headline as "Killer trees to escape prison disguised as a sheep" and all I could think is, "If those trees meet up with the killer tomatoes, we're doomed."

https://www.cnn.com/videos/politics/2017/10/26/george-w-bush-hurricane-katrina-fema-michael-brown.cnn

My initial reaction was being torn. But after thinking about it, I'm going to have to say using blanket rejection letters as a blanket policy suck. Here's why:

TL;DR: Tiny NYC publishing house lets college intern write bespoke rejection letters to unsolicited submissions by aspiring authors, some of who wrote back to say thanks.

Longer version: As a college intern in the mid-90s, I worked at a tiny publishing house of around 5 "full time" paid employees. One of my first jobs was reviewing the "slush pile," a literal pile of unsolicited submissions by people unrepresented by literary agents yet who, as far as I could tell, did little to no research before submitting their draft of the "best vampire novel" ever. (This was the mid- to late-90s. Anne Rice was still the shit, if her shit was the thing you were in to.)

The publishing house had a boilerplate rejection letter that basically said "thanks but no thanks" in polite enough ways. I used it frequently.

But once in a while, a submission caught my eye. Not because I thought it was good or even submitted to the right place, but because it left me thinking that the person on the other end was talented or, for whatever reason, deserved something other than a boilerplate rejection letter.

So, I would write back to that person directly. I would say, in so many words, (1) here's the genres this house publishes vs. what you submitted (so they knew what went wrong), (2) encourage them to find an agent if they were serious vs. blindly submit things, esp. without doing their homework first, and (3) noting whatever it was that caught my eye with their submission and offering genuine words of encouragement. Maybe they were capable of putting words together. Maybe it was the plot line. I dunno. But I would suggest that they find something new or original to write about, rather than trying to write the next vampire novel.

Most did not respond. Maybe it was the oodles of money they made on the next NYT best seller, maybe they moved and didn't change their address. Or maybe they had a rejection letter slush pile of their own. I dunno. But those who did write back were forever grateful to both be acknowledged and to have someone finally say, "Here's why this doesn't work."  

Obviously, responding on an individual level is not always logistically or legally possible (or pragmatic). As much as I appreciate the pull of a "It's not you, it's us" rejection letter that also drops famous names, and bearing in mind that what I'm about to say may be unpopular, I think that offering encouragement in what appears to be a boilerplate rejection letter is a bad idea, esp. if you're telling the candidate to continue following your business on LinkedIn. (You rejected them but still want the follows?) If you're going to use a rejection letter to offer someone encouragement as if they were asking you out on a date, do it sparingly and judiciously, not simply because you're employer is too chickenshit to just say, "No thanks" or "Go pound sand."

YMMV.

Good jorb.

Hey OP, it sounds like life is really tough for you right now. I'm really sorry. I've been there before and, at the risk of oversharing, I hope you might spend a few moments indulging a random stranger's personal details that are being offered to illustrate a point:

Shortly before my 21st birthday, I found out my dad had terminal cancer, I got into a horrible fight with my girlfriend at the time (cops showed up. no charges, arrest, or jail time, but still), and I lost my shit and ended a longtime, close friendship.That was 20+ years ago.

I still remember feeling, at those moments, how much I wanted to disappear. Not necessarily die, but at least disappear. Go where no one knew me. Start over. It took a while to come to terms with that feeling. Life didn't allow for it.

One day after the other, I eventually made peace with my dad's death (I still miss him every day), made amends with my old girlfriend and friend, and, most importantly, made peace with myself.

I don't know if cutting yourself was genuinely an accident or not. My point is that you cannot make the changes you wish you could have made if you are physically hurting yourself. I do, however, get why you want to go back and change everything. As I'm sure you, you cannot change the past. And as hokey as it sounds, the future CAN be changed but that requires you being present to make it happen.

Please take care of yourself.

(Edited to fix my shitty typos.)

It was this photograph that convinced George Burns to always have his hair straightened.

Oh, that crossed my mind.

Kid originally wanted his costume so that people could "buy" candy from him. "And how will they get the candy from this machine?" I asked. He suggested the costume would be like any other vending machine. "Probably not a good idea to have strangers trying to take candy from around your crotch," I said. He was not thrilled when I suggested he simply squat and drop the candy like a chicken laying an egg.

On the way home from the hardware store, it occurred to me that we make the costume more realistic in that things got "stuck." He was unconvinced, insisting no one would get it.

As I began painting the costume on the sidwealk, neighbors walked by and asked my kid what he was going as for Halloween. "A vending machine," he said. "Where treats get stuck," I added. It was the overwhelmingly positive responses that finally convinced him this wasn't some stupid dad idea but was, in fact, an aspect of life that nearly everyone is familiar with.

"Just make sure no one shakes or tries to tilt you," I warned him.