Dear Valerie,

I just received your email indicating that you are unable to “move forward” with my piece, “An Activist Prepares: The Theatrics of Social Justice in Contemporary America” which you had previously accepted for publication. I am baffled. As of May, when I first pitched the piece to you, you expressed great interest in publishing it and “couldn’t wait” to hear what I came up with as you thought “the piece is a good fit for us.” (Followed by five exclamation points.)

Almost a year ago, my wife surprised me with a Fitbit for my birthday. Perhaps she had noticed me glancing at hers longingly, checking in on her weekly challenge stats, monitoring the rises and falls in her heart rate, or surreptitiously slipping it on late at night when she was in bed and had left it to charge. The power I felt when wearing it, if only for a few short minutes, was intoxicating. I, a mere mortal, could count my own steps and measure the pace of my heart!

So you’ve met a cynic. You find him insufferable, but you can’t avoid him because your best friend thinks he’s “kinda cute in an ugly way.” Fear not, for we have supplied a fool-proof method to cure him of his prickly outlook on life.

Journalist #1: I’m here at the royal wedding of King Henry XIII and Catherine of Parr. Your highness, it’s an honor to talk to you at this beautiful affair.

King Henry: Thank you, I’m glad you could make it. Did you have some questions for your publication?

Journalist #1: I indeed did, I’ll rattle through them real quick.

King Henry: Sounds good.

Journalist #1: So this is your sixth wedding, correct?

King Henry: Yes, this time I’ve found love for real.

Journalist #1: Do you really believe that?

Mr. Fepper: Okay class, today we’re going to analyze the novella A Rue, a Sunset, and Loss by David (pronounced Daveed) Hopkins. You all read the first chapter?

Class: mmmhmmm.

Mr. Fepper: What did we think of the first paragraph? Let’s start with “And Edwardo Cranberry opened the door with his right hand.”