Thankyou for the generic rejection letter that comes over six months after I sent you material. However, my name isn’t “Eli” or whatever that three letter squiggle was. I also note with interest that you have thoughtfully sent me somebody else’s manuscript. As much as I relish reading unsoliscited Chic Lit, I’m sure there is some-one else expecting it back. Whose manuscript did you send them?

Did it ever occur to you that the name on the envelope you were stuffing didn’t match the person whose material you were stuffing it with? But then of course you didn’t, because you didn’t bother to read any of the material sent to you. Never mind – I would happily tell you I already have an agent, but it would most likely be lost somewhere in your internal post and it would be quicker to wait for you to notice the book you rejected on the shelves of Waterstones.

You aren’t the first unobservant person to manage to send me some-one else’s material. But you belong to an organisation that claims to be a big player in the market, yet you are guilty of Mickey Mouse mistakes.

Yours,