This is the way I feel today.
The other day, coming out of Fred Meyer’s grocery
store, I looked across the street to an Office Max. The store was closing.
Rats, I liked that store.
There in huge red letters about two feet high was a sign:
“50% off Entire Store.”
Check it out, I thought, so I did, and wandering
through the store, I chose a package of particular pens I like, some colored
marking pens, some tabs, not much, but something. When the check-out clerk rang
me up the discount was 20% and 30%. “I though the entire store was 50% off,” I
said.
“Oh,” she said,
“it’s a marketing ploy. It’s ‘up to’ 50% off.” Sure enough, there in small
letters about two inches high were the words, “up to.” I had missed it.
I left feeling
taken.
It’s true I didn’t read the small print, but I
wondered, “Do you have to trick people to get them to buy something?” I don’t
want to do that. And then I realized I had done the very thing I was railing
against. I mentioned in the last blog
that I sent a query to an agent stating that the manuscript was 90,000 words in
length. (I had only written 35,000 words, but in my arrogance, I thought I could bring it up to 90,000.)
They want a further look-see—first 3 chapters and a synopsis, and they will
take a 75,000 count.
So while I’m
scrambling to write another 40,000 words for the manuscript; I'm having trouble
paring the synopsis down to the required 5 pages.
This is a Laurel and Hardy movie.
Now here is real truth is advertising:
Now here is real truth is advertising:
“Wanted,
young, skinny, wiry fellows not over eighteen. Must be expert riders, willing
to risk death daily. Orphans preferred.”
--1860 Pony Express
(These fellows could deliver mail in 10 days while
covering 1900 miles and using 75 horses. Imagine.)