Dear Serious Novel ,
I am a terse, assured lyric with impeccable rhythmic flow,
some apt and original metaphors, and a music that is all
my own. Some people say I am beautiful.
My vital statistics are eighteen lines, divided into
three-line stanzas, with an average of four words per line.
My first husband was a cheap romance; the second was
Wisden´s Cricketers´ Almanac. Most of the men I meet
nowadays are autobiographies, but a substantial minority
are books about photography or trains.
I have always hoped for a relationship with an upmarket
work of fiction. Please write and tell me more about yourself.
Song of the First Snowdrop.
Dear Song of the First Snowdrop,
Many thanks for your letter. Tou sound like just the kind of
poem I am hoping to find. I´ve always preferred short, lyrical
women to the kind who go on for page after page.
I am an important 150,000 word comment on the dreams and
dilemmas of twentieth-century Man. It took six years to attain
my present weight and stature but all the twenty-seven
publishers I have so far approached have failed to understand
me. I have my share of sex and violence and a very good joke
in chapter nine, but to no avail. I am sustained by the belief
that I am ahead of my time.
Let´s meet as soon as possible. I am longing for you
to read me from cover to cover and
get to know my every word.
Death of the Zetgiest.
Wendy Cope (b. 1945) English poet