Sometimes things don't go as planned

Putting together the magazine is always a very extensive process. Not only creatively (we spend a lot of time thinking which works should share pages/spreads), but also logistically! From organizing submissions, keeping talleys of votes, notifying authors, and letting them take one last peek at their work before it's off to print, a lot of hiccups pop up. Most of them are stressful; this one was just funny. And don't worry -- we got his permission to post it here!

 

From: Sliced Bread Magazine <editors@slicedbreadmag.com>
Date: Wed, Apr 4, 2012 at 6:43 PM
Subject: Re: Preview of your piece in Sliced Bread Magazine- please review and respond by THIS SATURDAY
To: XXXX XXXXX <XXXXXXXX@gmail.com>

 Hi XXXXX,

Attached please find the PDF of your accepted piece for Sliced Bread Magazine. Please check over the page or pages and get back to us BEFORE THIS SATURDAY if there are any changes that need to be made. After this point, we will be unable to make changes. Please note these will not necessarily be the final layouts - we reserve the right to change things around.

Thanks!

The Editors
Sliced Bread Magazine
The University of Chicago
5706 South University Avenue
Chicago, Illinois 6063

And his reply:

From: XXXX XXXXX <XXXXXXXX@gmail.com>

Date: Wed, Apr 4, 2012 at 11:17 PM
Subject: Re: Preview of your piece in Sliced Bread Magazine- please review and respond by THIS SATURDAY
To: Sliced Bread Magazine <editors@slicedbreadmag.com>


Dear editors,

Through a combination of sparse internet access, the sense of total unbotherability appropriate to a leave of absence, and above all a marked deficiency of moral, ethical, spiritual, and professional character, I neglected to respond to your recent email informing me that this piece had been accepted for publication. If I had overcome the challenges posed by the sparse internet access, the sense of total unbotherability appropriate to a leave of absence, and above all the marked deficiency of moral, ethical, spiritual, and professional character, I would have replied to that email as follows:

Dear editors,

With respect I would like to withdraw my piece from consideration for publication in your magazine. For one thing I have revised and expanded the piece to an extent that I have little affection or pride for it. For another I have come to wonder whether I can get on board with your tastes and preferences in creative material, having seen multiple excellent (to my eyes) submissions that were not accepted by your board and multiple accepted pieces that offended my narrow-minded and boorishly unbending prejudices. I am not by any means challenging the legitimacy or consistency of your collective vision. It's a chocolate (you) versus vanilla (me) sort of situation, or perhaps a chocolate (you) versus organic vanilla-and-epiphany-and-high-pretense-flavored soy-based frozen vegan mush (me) sort of situation. But most importantly I remember that the piece in question is one my girlfriend and I meant to edit and finish together, which makes odious the fact that I sent it off to you without anything of hers in it, and has cultivated no small measure of justified frustration and, in my case, regret, felt all the worse on account of my twice-mentioned marked deficiency of moral, ethical, spiritual, and professional character. 

So it'd be pretty cool if you took it out (like, all the way, forever).

This is a GIF of cookies in an oven. http://chzgifs.files.wordpress.com/2011/02/cookiesp1.gif I hope its hypnotic and pleasant rhythm will ease your frustration, if you are kindhearted people willing to oblige me - or alternatively, if you are the usual sort of people, with enough problems of your own to prevent heeding mine, I hope that by mentally substituting my head or my talent or my self-esteem in place of the endlessly-suffering and melting cookie dough you will be able to invigorate your spite for me and everything I stand for.

With best wishes,

some dick