Inane Query Letter of the Week #7

You thought I forgot, didn’t ya? You looked at the little clock in the corner of your computer screen and saw it flipping (metaphorically speaking, of course…digital clocks don’t flip) from 6:59 to 7:00 (9:59 to 10:00 EST) and said to yourself “Ha! That foolish bastard forgot to post a query letter this week, inane or otherwise! What a foolish thing for that fool to do! I shall send him a nasty e-mail/comment to remind him of his foolhardiness. Yes, that’s what I’ll do.” Well screw you buddy! I remembered! As a matter of fact, the reason it took this long for me to post today is that I wanted to sift through ever entry in a surprisingly strong (read: painfully bad) crop of query letter hopefuls to cull the best of the best for this week’s segment. And though my lead up has been rather boorish, I can promise that this week’s entry manages to keep it far shorter and sweeter than I could ever hope to. Enjoy…

“FLIGHT”

A troubled young man travels back in time to rescue his younger self from his abusive mother."

Genre: Supernatural Drama

Siggy lives alone in a shack in the deep woods with his three-legged cat, Pescatore. Siggy's nightmares about his abusive childhood are getting worse as he struggles to find his place in a cruel world.

I spent more than a decade seeing my work published in law books. Having retired from the law and left the Big City life nearly ten years ago, I'm now enjoying creative writing in the context of my lifelong passion for film.

I would like to submit this screenplay for your consideration. Please feel free to contact me at any time.

Thank you.

NAME WITHHELD TO PROTECT THE PATHETIC

Sigh. Sometime, I read a query letter like this, with its piteously transparent “mommy hit me” cry for help, overtly candid recap of wasted youth and, yes, three-legged cat, and think to my self “if I had gone for the psychology major instead of wasting 120 grand on a film degree, I could be making money hand over fist on mooks like this!” Then I bury my head in my hands and cry.

Oh, and because I was too lazy to post yesterday, Happy Belated Cinco de Mayo. Here’s hoping all of your vomit reeks of Chalupas and margarita salt.