Here's why: I realized I can really relate to Ralphie from "A Christmas Story." Yes, it's true, we each have eccentric fathers (Ralphie's dad and his leg lamp/my dad's suicidal Santa - photo below). But here's why I relate to Ralphie most - Ralphie, in " A Christmas Story," imagines his essay about his wish for a Red Ryder BB gun will thrill his teacher into marking it with A++++; he drifts off daydreaming about how ecstatic his teacher will become upon reading his stunning written work. It will be, he imagines, an essay so amazing his entire class can't help but cheer and chant his name..."Ralphie! Ralphie! Ralphie!"
That's how I felt yesterday as checked my e-mail. I'd sent a pitch letter to a big New York magazine only last week. And Like Ralphie, in the daydream bubble above my head, I imagine the straight-laced New York magazine editor becoming nearly unglued with joy upon reading my wonderful story idea; an idea so spectacular she says to her assistant, "Get this writer, Michele Miles Gardiner, on the phone immediately. Tell her we love the idea! It's spectacular!!!" That's when I see her usually-unflappable assistant tripping over her desk to reach a phone to call me. Unable to reach me, the assistant pounds out an e-mail with the subject line: "Your fantastic story idea - call us immediately".
Cut to reality:
I checked my e-mail to see it cluttered with spam:"Single and Lonely?" "Make Millions Working at Home" "Need your Organ Extended?"
Logically I know it may be months to get any sort of answer to my query letter... but I can dream. (photo below: I know I've posted this before, but, heck, why not post it again? My dad built this Santa and later stuck him on our roof with a gun to his head.)