Thank you for your numerous submissions to our magazine. It is with regret that we inform you that your stories have not been selected for publication here at the New Yorker. While our editors were impressed by your membership in the Midnight Society, we felt that your stories were plagued with extraneous recurring characters, as inconsistent as they were unappealing. In particular, the Dr. Vink character seemed desperate to coin a catchphrase but too lazy in coming up with anything memorable. Further, his transition from secluded murderer to successful filmmaker and restaurant owner raised innumerable questions that we, quite “frankly,” weren’t interested in getting answers to. We did feel that your story about “train magic” might resonate among kids between the ages of six and ten. This, however, is decidedly not our readership. Have you tried Reader’s Digest? We wish you the best.
The New Yorker
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Dear New Yorker,
It comes as no surprise that your magazine has no room for my lovingly crafted stories. Your publication is fatally congested with inert prose from writers who have long lost any genuine passion for life. If your fiction serves as inspiration for aspiring writers, it is only by demonstrating with such regularity how low the bar is for literary success these days. I will continue to write Dr. Vink into my stories, with or without the support of your empty-headed, credentials-obsessed network of New York City elitists.