Imagining the right way to handle the snafu, I weighed whether I should even address it. Surely it wasn’t the end of the world and Mr. Agent had experienced spell correct rearing its ugly head in mockery within something he had typed? Then again, sending anything to an agent with a foolish, stupid error like this fairly ensured a slap down into the slush pile from which you came.
It was a hectic in that hotel lobby on this morning, but I was delighted as I happily typed away on my phone. When the spell correct changed one of my words, I chuckled and immediately backspaced to fix it. “Wow,” I marveled. “That would not have been good at all.” Finishing up, I quickly scanned what I had typed and hit send. It was not until much later when I went back to add the agent into my contact list that I saw it.
“No, no, no,” I muttered, the word pooping, popping out like a dog turd on a freshly manicured lawn. “What the heck,” I railed, knowing, swearing, I had fixed it. Apparently my typing while being in a hurry and without readers had left me in deep doo-doo.
Turning to Mr. Harris, I took a shaky breath and shared how I had sent an email mentioning how much I looked forward to pooping on over. To his credit, he did not throw back his head in raucous laughter or spit out his coffee in a snicker. A first responder trained in dangerous situations, he knows how to carefully approach volatile scenes that can quickly become deadly. Assuring me it wasn’t the end of all dreams, he pointed out it was only a simple, stupid error within an email.
“Spelling or grammatical errors are noted as the kiss of death when submitting to a literary agent,” I insisted.
“Everyone does it,” he retorted, sharing how he had recently gotten an official email with a similar oversight.
“But this,” I whined, “Was to a literary agent.”
“Well mine was received from a government official. They are important too,” he asserted. I agreed, but explained the abyss of rejection and how a foolish mistake like this could equal the end to what I had hoped would be a solid contact for the future.
In between bopping around West Palm Beach I mulled over how best to proceed. I decided to let it go and take the self-deprecating humor route once in person. Finding a cute poo emoji gift, I snapped it up. Hopefully if presented with a bit of humor it will clear the air, so to speak.
While I’d rather be known for my stellar submissions, I guess being known as the pooping email writer could still potentially open a few doors. Needless to say, it will also keep me humble and golly gee wouldn’t it be a hilarious anecdote in my future, finally got published bio?
I can see it now. After years of writing and intermittent querying, I finally landed an agent, but not until I had sent an email referring to poop. Hopefully it will be a humorous and human mistake, all this bodily reference. Maybe there is hope after all. Poop happens and your spell correct will make sure of it.