Dear Miss Snark,
Some people are just born assholes. Fortunately for most, in my novel, The Fatal Nature of Life, the universe offers a multitude of lifetimes for souls to learn how to rise above such faults. (huh?)
These opportunities go completely wasted on Eldridge Peet, however. Over the course of his previous lives, Eldridge has managed to devolve more and more into quite a despicable human being. To top it all off, his generally foul outlook, immoral manner and devious schemes have gotten him murdered on no less than nine occasions. And now it’s beginning to look like his current life will be ending in murder number ten. (Would it be catty to say he's not living his nine lives well?)
The Fatal Nature of Life (I like the title) bounds throughout history chronicling the misadventures of a pathetic loser who, through nearly every fault of his own, just can’t get things right. Along the way, Eldridge’s travails run the gamut from whimsical to terrifying.
My manuscript is approximately 84,000 words in length. I would be glad to send you a hard copy upon your request.
Thank you in advance for your time and consideration, Miss Snark, and I look forward to hearing from you soon.
All the best,
I. M. Redacted
uh...you want me to read about a pathetic asshole? Yanno, I have Fox News for that. And while we're at it, did you want to say anything about the plot? You do have one tucked away in there right?
March 14, 1999
Over the centuries, Eldridge Peet’s various lives were quite unusual in the respect that he’d been murdered on no less than nine occasions, and of late, it was beginning to look like the hands of another would do him in yet again. (me! I wanna!! I'll do it!)
Eldridge was a man that many people would’ve described as handsome, if not for a few minor flaws. His head was slightly larger and more round than it should be, making his protruding ears seem even bigger than they were. His complexion was pale, oily and often marred by pimples. His nose was visibly crooked, as if it were bent on pointing out the angry mole residing under his right eye--which was lazy and set a little higher than the left. His stomach bulged more than it should, causing his shoulders to slouch, and his feet sweated profusely with an odor that was nearly palpable from several feet away much like his halitosis.
(people kill him for this??)
And, just as his flawed appearance went, his personality was such that he would’ve been admired, if not even loved, by the majority of those who knew him, but for a small number of quirks. He tended to lie, but not like most people do, when it came to major things--although he certainly told those falsehoods too. No, Eldridge troubled himself to design fabrications concerning minor, if not completely insignificant, matters. Furthermore, he wasn’t what one would call an accomplished liar, since he was caught in his dishonesty quite regularly.
(you look quite fat in that font..what, you're gonna shoot me for that??)
He was both greedy and cheap. He found fault with both his small number of friends as well as the multitude of people he didn’t know, or did know, but didn’t care for. (He's in publishing, right?) He never remembered to say please or thank you, but he could be counted on to point out when such politeness was due to him. He found great pleasure in the pain of others, and usually went out of his way to share that schadenfreude with them. Lastly, he thought everyone else was beneath him in at least some, if not many ways, and made no effort to conceal that opinion. He did have a few more faults, of course, but they will go unmentioned here because, after all, nobody’s perfect.
Probably one of the more interesting things about Eldridge Peet though, was that over the course of all of his prior lives--as well as the current one that he’d very soon be in danger of losing--he’d not only failed to make any progress towards becoming a better human being, but had in fact, usually gotten a little worse with each reincarnation. Yes, from his first life as a nameless hunter at the cusp of mankind’s beginnings, chasing mostly small game across the African savanna, until his most recent manifestation as a salesman of insurance in a rundown shop in New York City, (I thought he worked in publishing!) Eldridge Peet had slowly evolved into quite a piece of shit.
well just sign me up to read more more more....oh wait, that was a lie wasn't it? ...i"m meellllttiinnnngggg...
Look you can be sardonic as hell and I'm right there with you cheering you on. With a name like Miss Snark how can I possibly not be? But, you gotta give me a reason to read this. A litany of character flaws is for the good Father on Sunday morning in his homily, but in my slush pile it's a non starter.