By Annabelle Corrick Beach

(From the April 2006 issue of the Update.)

An odd thing happened awhile ago on my way back from my mailbox.  I saw a return submission that arrived several weeks before promised.  Then an even greater surprise—a reply letter on stationary with a signature.  This was for a three-chapter submission; whereas, a response to a simple query arrived several weeks later with a form letter.

The life of the writer is filled with rejection, right?  So the quicker and more pleasant each one, the better.  Right again.  The first response, arriving much sooner than expected and in more personalized format, was infinitely preferable to the second.  In fact, it made my day.  It also caused me to ponder upon the greater attributes of the first rejecter who appreciated the writing so much that she took the time to express sincere regret.

While mulling over this event, however, a new bit of information converged with it.  I recalled that an editor had been cited as commenting about submission packages ... about why they always seemed to be so difficult to open.  Oops.  Perhaps that quick and courteous rejection was not totally the result of how nice the agent was (and how good my writing) but more about the convenience of the envelope that allowed tab opening.

Something else came to mind, and that was the recent phone call with a relative who was sure a package I’d sent had not arrived at all.  Then she said to wait a minute.  Maybe she had set it aside, and it was under some other things on the table.  She found the envelope and then said to wait while she used her letter opener.  Uh-oh, it wouldn’t work.  She’d have to go get some scissors.  Many minutes later she got the thing open.

I tried to recall what kind of envelope I had used.  Ah yes, one of those fancy tyvek first class white-and-green envelopes I’d just purchased.  A whole box.

Although contest judges often suggest using tyvek envelopes because they won’t tear and because they store easily, for editors and agents (not to mention relatives) they do have the disadvantage of being more difficult to open.  What if the editor or agent does not have scissors at hand, or their ever-prepared assistant is off for the day?  Or they get impatient and try to tear it open with their teeth and suffer an injury.  Will you be liable?

But this all gets even worse.  I finally re-located the editor’s comments in Atchity’s How to Publish Your Novel: A Complete Guide to Making the Right Publisher Say Yes, page 151.  The “former vice president and senior editor of Random House” feels very strongly about this issue: “In terms of on-the-job hazards,” he states, “excessive use of adhesive tape and staples finishes a close second to anthrax.” So you could be imposing the near-equivalent of weapons of mass destruction?

How many times had I carefully sealed my precious missives with strips of brown packing tape?  For those full manuscripts, I might have even used a row or two of staples.  Yikes!  And I thought it was just those layers of editorial committees that caused the complete-manuscript submissions to return months and months later, usually with no comment.  I never imagined that those not returned might have been confiscated by WMD squads.

While it’s probably not necessary to hand deliver partial and full submissions in zip-lock freezer bags, tab openings would seem to be advisable.  Whether there’s anything to the theory that submission coverings could be decisive, as with selling your house, it does make sense to follow this adage:  Remove all obstacles.

~~~~~
Annabelle Corrick Beach, a WRW member, is author of the romantic suspense novel, Illusions of Spring and has been marketing the romance, Summer Dreams.