My cover letter needs some work

You'd like to know about my background as a writer?

Well, let's start with my deep love for language and stories. I am also literate. I also know the difference between 'you're' and  'your' and also 'there', 'their', and 'they're'.

Look, I'll be straight with you.

I could make shit up, but that would be wrong.

What I do have to offer is my perspective:

I am Every Woman and can appeal to the universal experiences of Women.

HA! No.

Okay, so I'm not really an Every Woman.

I am however a Fairly Common Woman. I am funny, smart, and quirky.

I have conceived, carried, and expelled two human beginnings from my very own body, and this makes me an expert on all things pertaining to snot, shit, and stretchmarks.

The two humans who once inhabited my uterus are 15 and 10. I live with them and keep them alive. This makes me an expert on all things pertaining to patience, maternal love and devotion, self doubt, worry, despair, and laundry.

I have been married to the same guy for 17 years, as far as I can tell. I mean, he appears to be the same fellow. Blond, tall, two eyes, two ears, male. I think it's the same guy. Seventeen years. This experience allows me to know all things regarding the human heart: high blood pressure, angina, cholesterol. I also know a little something about vasectomy aftercare.

I help take care of my elderly mother. In the capacity of caregiver, I have the unique opportunity to practice my parenting skills: patience, devotions, love, self doubt, worry, despair, and laundry. Helping my elderly mother is like taking a master class in parenting. The only reward is knowing that if there is a Hell, taking care of my elderly mother may be the only thing that will exempt me from taking my place there.

I am able to blather wittily or poignantly or an amazing combination of both --mixing it up lightning speed, funnysad funnysadfunny POW!-- on many subjects not limited to parenting, marriage, elder care, shit, snot, and laundry.

I am sure that given a chance, I could think of something else to write about. Give me a chance. Oh for the love of GOD. Please.

I forgot to mention the fact that I have ADHD which adds a bit of mad-cap excitement and zaniness to the mix. I am also occasionally depressed, for added pathos. I have an anxiety disorder too, which gives some of my writing a sense of peril and doom.

I can write at least as well as the woman who wrote a personal essay about her open marriage or the woman who wrote about her emotionally unfaithful fiance or the piece I just now saw about tantric sex, OMFG who has time for tantric sex?!  or the dude who wrote something about whatever it was that I got sort of bored with. You know?

I mean, Jesus Freaking Christ.

Come on.


Sincerely,