The Rejected Writers' Book Club (Southlea Bay) Read Online Free Page B

published would just not work. We’ve lost a few over the years due to success,” noted Doris grimly, “but fortunately, as it is very hard to get published, we keep more than we lose.”
    Annie brightened. “I like to write dog stories. I love dogs, so I write about them.”
    “Janet is going to help us take our stories out to the world,” Doris announced with wild exuberance.
    I was going to do what? I wondered if maybe I’d passed out at some point and missed something, but before I could comment, Doris continued without taking a breath.
    “But first, before we have Janet talk to us, I hear we have another Fabulous Female Failure.”
    Ruby started rooting around in a knitted bag with a purple peace sign adorning the front and pulled out an envelope.
    All the women clapped enthusiastically. I clapped absently as well; I was still contemplating what Doris had just said about me.
    “Wonderful,” said Doris, taking it from her and holding it high with all the gusto of a circus ringleader announcing its star performer. “Get the book, Ethel.”
    Ethel disappeared, and Doris handed a large mason jar around the circle. Everybody except Ruby threw in some change.
    Ruby said, “It’s so good when I’m bad.”
    I leaned toward Ruby and asked her, “What’s the jar for?”
    “Everyone without a letter this month has to throw in some money. We’re collecting for a big celebration when we hit five hundred letters.”
    I then asked a question that I’d been wondering about. “Does Ethel write?”
    Ruby shook her head. “She’s just a friend of Doris’s. She’s more of a helper to the group.” Then she added with pride, “As I said before, not everybody can be a rejected lady.”
    A few minutes later, Ethel paraded back into the center of the room, holding aloft “the book” as if it were a much-anticipated birthday cake. It was a large black leather-bound affair bulging at the seams. She handed it to Doris, who received it reverently before opening it.
    Doris cleared her throat and spoke. “As you all know, the Rejected Writers’ Book Club has been meeting for five years now, and apart from that unfortunate bout of dysentery two years ago, we have met every single month, upholding our motto, Connection with Rejection. In my hands is our fabulous file of failure, of which I am proud to announce we now have 475 rejection letters. As is the custom at the beginning of each session, I would like to take a moment to recognize one of them.
    “Here’s one of my favorites.
Dear Mrs. Newberry,
Thank you for sending us your manuscript, Love in the Forest , but at the moment we are only looking for manuscripts that have a plot, a setting, interesting characters, understandable dialogue, a conflict, a main character, and . . . a point. As your manuscript meets none of the criteria, we will have to pass on this project.
Yours sincerely,
Myrtle Williams
Slivers, Ronald, and Co. Books.”
    The whole group clapped and roared with laughter.
    “Isn’t that marvelous?” howled Doris as her whole body wobbled like jelly.
    As the guffawing continued, I nibbled nervously on the remnants of my lemon cake, deciding I must be in some sort of island episode of the Twilight Zone . They were all thoroughly batty.
    As soon as the laughter subsided, Doris turned to a blank page and placed Ruby’s letter on it.
    “Thank you, Ruby. Only twenty-five now to our goal.”
    Doris placed the book down on a table.
    “Now, for the real reason for this special meeting.”
    She paused for effect.
    “We have been reading our books to one another for many years, and we have enjoyed them so much. But I think it’s time that other people in our community had the benefit of our work. So I’ve asked Janet here today to help us organize an event as part of our weeklong rejection celebration. I believe now is the right time to unveil our group to the extended community and connect with other rejected people in Southlea Bay. Our festivities will