Dear Writer
Music and lyrics by Brenda Sutton
© 1985

This was the very first filk song I ever wrote.  I'd gone to a LASFS convention where I'd sat in the back of a filksing and listened.  I thought to myself, "I could DO that."  By the time I'd gotten from LA to San Pedro, I had six verses.

G C G / C G D7 / G C G D7 / G C G C / G C G C / G D7 / G C D7 G

Spoken: Monday

I got a 'Dear Writer' today -- from Amazing™.
George Scithers was so kind, as nice as can be.
He said in his lifetime he'd not hoped to see
A manuscript so filled with such.... clarity.
He could see straight through it.
There was nothing to it.
There's that old familiar line:
DOESN'T MEET OUR NEEDS AT THIS TIME.

Spoken: Tuesday

I got a 'Dear Writer' today -- from Asimov's™.
So, what does Dozois know?  He's new to the dance.
If Shawna was still there, she'd buy at a glance.
My story had everything, even romance!
Lucky guess he perceived
It's about Adam and Eve.
There's that old familiar line:
DOESN'T MEET OUR NEEDS AT THIS TIME.

Spoken: Wednesday

I got a 'Dear Writer' today -- from Analog™.
I thought that their market was the perfect place
For my story of just how the whole human race
Is descended from leprechauns.  It's a disgrace!
That was hard science fiction.
They came from Green Krypton™.
There's that old familiar line:
DOESN'T MEET OUR NEEDS AT THIS TIME.

Spoken: Thursday

I got a 'Dear Writer' today -- F & SF™.
They hate my pink paper.  They nixed my perfume.
My cute smiley faces spelled "INSIDE IS DOOM!"
I think I am going to paper my room
With these timely reminders
That I'm getting behinder.
There's that old familiar line:
DOESN'T MEET OUR NEEDS AT THIS TIME.

Spoken: Friday

I got a 'Dear Writer' today -- from Del Rey™.
My book that began at the bottom-most spot
Of their enormous slush pile crept next to the top,
But they knocked it back down just to hear the thing drop.
I was told that my dud
Made a loud cliché thud.
There's that old familiar line:
DOESN'T MEET OUR NEEDS AT THIS TIME.

Spoken: Saturday

I got a 'Dear Writer' today -- from my postman.
He's getting a complex that's hard to pronounce
From watching me eagerly waiting to pounce
On this heartbreaking news. And I buy each ounce!
So he's begging to pay
For my well-deserved stay
For six weeks at Clarion.
See the check that he's carryin'
So there's no more familiar line:
DOESN'T MEET OUR NEEDS AT THIS TIME.