Anyone who wants to submit something for critique, send it to firstname.lastname@example.org. What harm can it do? It's free. Remember what I want? Well, it's on the sidebar, but: first pages, short stories, queries (for editing/grammar), novels (send with a description of your book in the e-mail's body, but the actual novel as an attachment; I'll e-mail you back if I choose to read it), and anything you might want proofread. I'm really looking for fiction, but if you send something non-fiction at this point in time, I'll read it. If you send a short story, query, or first pages, say so in the e-mail if you do not want me to post it on the blog. Otherwise, I probably will so that readers (however few) can leave their own comments on it. If you're looking for a review, someone who knows punctuation (!!!), and the honest truth of what I think about your work ... then clearly you should send it to me, because I'm the only one who can give you the honest truth of what I think about your work. (And that high-five from Gringy's still up for the first person to send me something.)
With love, hate, and anxiety, The Rentable Writer ... and me, Gringy!!!!!! (Hmph! You always try to leave me out of things, but not this time! No! Never again. I'm going to leave you forever; I'll never return, you son of a bitch!)
(Oh, shut up, Gringy. You know you're not going to leave. You'd starve.)
Together, the Rentable Writer and his sidekick Gringy are on a mission to help aspiring writers everywhere. Will they succeed?
To send something to RW or Gringy: email@example.com — Accepting fiction. Novels, short stories, queries & synopses (for spelling-grammar-punctuation editing, but not professional critique), and any possible question you could have.
My sidekick Gringy and I are here to inspire those writers who wish to break out of their shells ... or who already have, but now need help learning how to fly. (I hate analogies [or is that a deformed metaphor?] like that. Gringy doesn't.)
Random Fact about Me, RW: One of my secret desires is to live in a slush pile -- all that undiscovered crappy goodness.