Letters to the Editor

If you are a regular writer of columns or blogs such as yours truly, you will know that getting your byline to appear in print form in a newspaper or magazine is no mean task. Ditto online is a tad easier. Getting a book published is another kettle of fish altogether. You bung something in to a publication on a wing and a prayer. And wait. It may take a couple of weeks or more before you even get a terse response regretting inability to entertain your vaulting ambition to become a published columnist or author. That is if you get a response at all.

One appreciates that all publications have their own regular contributors, many of them twinkling stars in their own write (weak pun intended – if it was good enough for John Lennon, it is good enough for me), coupled with the fact that space is a scarce commodity. Under such straitened circumstances, one cannot expect book publishers or newspaper editors to jump through hoops every time a submission pops up in their inbox from all and sundry. After all, the likes of Margaret Mitchell (Gone with the wind) and Vladimir Nabokov (Lolita) had to face several reject slips before being published and joining the best-seller list. Somewhat akin to The Beatles being first rejected by the Decca record label and giving rival Parlophone an opening it could never have dreamed of. Decca was licking its wounds and laughing out of the other side of its mouth before hastily signing on The Rolling Stones to rake in the shekels. Rumours that one or two of Decca’s executives jumped out of their 15^th floor window due to the Beatles fiasco, were greatly exaggerated.

 I have learnt this the hard way over the years. Better men (and women) than I have had to face the ignominy of being shown the door. Nevertheless, I must acknowledge that when a positive response does come along once in a proverbial blue moon, indicating that one’s contribution is likely to appear on some unspecified date in the future, one is elated – though the vigil could, at times, be interminable. I shall, for the nonce, not dwell ungraciously on the misplaced apostrophes and missing or mangled sentences that are part and parcel of published material, particularly when some junior sub is tasked with the responsibility of editing the article. I have spotted proofing gremlins in the works of Jane Austen and P.G. Wodehouse. That should tell you something. Still and all, one must give thanks when the material finally sees the light of day.

When I was a callow, wet-behind-the-ears youth, I was advised by my teachers to keep dashing off missives to ‘Letters to the Editor.’ The thinking behind this strategy was that you had a more than even chance of getting something published if you kept your letters short and referred to anything at all that might have appeared in the recent past in that newspaper. If you have managed, over a six-month period, to successfully submit at least six or seven letters which the paper saw fit to publish, then your name would get noticed by the bosses at the establishment. At least, that is the theory. In practice you still need to keep your fingers crossed when you open your paper every day to see if your letter found favour with the editor. Don’t get me wrong, this is not a question of sour grapes. It is just the way it is and I moan in good company. Writing letters to the editor, however, is a good way of breaking into the world of journalism. Even if it means being an off-and-on contributor. Or should that properly be on-and-off? I will leave it to the sub.

 I followed this dictum closely and to improve my skills in this limited area of writing letters to the editor, I would frequently visit the British Council library in Calcutta, my then city of residence, to scour through the newspaper section to study the methods of gnarled veteran scribes who would feverishly send letters to editors of the The Times, The Guardian, The Observer, The Daily Telegraph, The Independent and other esteemed titles of the fourth estate in the British Isles. At the drop of a hat. What is more, quite frequently the editors responded to the reader-writers. This would result in some risible exchanges. Here is one I dredged out from an old source.

‘Dear Editor, I recently read an article in your paper about the dangers of procrastination. I was going to send a letter responding to it, but I kept putting it off.’

‘Dear Reader, I appreciate the irony of your response. Apparently, it wasn’t a very effective article as I too kept putting off my response to you. I’ll have to let the writer know right away that the article needs to be more convincing….or perhaps it can wait.’

In India, editors do not engage in banter with the letter-writing readers other than to print something like ‘The Prime Minister’s name was erroneously printed as Nirav Modi instead of Narendra Modi. The error is deeply regretted.’ I think it would be extremely entertaining for readers in general if they are treated to exchanges between the reader and the editor. Here are some hypothetical examples, of my own making, that I would dearly like to see as I scour my paper first thing in the morning over a hot cuppa. I say this because many of our letters to the editor tend to be self-righteous, self-serving and political with little room for wit and humour. Getting your name in the paper seems to be the limited objective. What follows is a small sample from my wish list.

Dear Editor, I appreciate that advertisements are the lifeblood of your business, but it’s a bit much to read the front-page masthead of your title as ‘The Limes of India,’ ‘The Television of India’ or, God forbid, ‘The Laxative of India.’ All printed in your esteemed publication’s well-known type font. You have to turn three pages before the actual title is displayed. This is in appallingly poor taste.

Dear Reader, we too appreciate your concern. It is the old story of Marketing vs Editorial. Money wins out. As editors, we are helpless. The tail is wagging the dog. Look on the bright side. That free sachet of Lime liquid soap stuck to the advert saves you a day’s expense on washing soap. Can’t comment on free television sets or laxatives.

Here’s another example.

Dear Editor, have you conducted any study to determine if your readers actually read sponsored supplements on educational institutions, automobile brands and awards given to 25 hotels for excellence in different branches of hotel management? The only positive I can glean from them is that the sheets possess excellent absorbent qualities if you happen to own a puppy dog being toilet-trained at home.

Dear Reader, I see your point but again, you are confusing marketing matters with editorial decisions. You can exercise your discretion to read or not read these supplements. You have pointed out the incidental benefits with reference to your pet these supplements provide. That’s a plus. Also, if you happen to be painting your home old issues come in very handy, not just the supplements, to cover your furniture et al. Newspapers cover more than just news.

That is more like it. A bit of irony and veiled sarcasm. Entertains the readers and drives the point home. However, since the editor seems to be hiding behind the fig leaf of his marketing mavens, here is an example where the editor is directly answerable for some hilarious headlines.

Dear Editor, this headline had me foxed. ‘Federal agents raid gun shop, find weapons.’ What did they expect to find? Bathroom fittings?

Dear Reader, while I agree it sounds laughably ridiculous, the fact is the agents found spears, knives, bows and arrows, but no guns. Which was suspicious.

And these two priceless gems.

Dear Editor, thanks to these headlines, I was laughing all day long. ‘Marijuana issue sent to a joint committee,’ and ‘China may be using sea to hide its submarines.’

Dear Reader, these headlines were not errors but serendipitous and, I daresay, joyous double entendres. Happy to have provided you with some light relief in these drab times.

Last but not the least, the use of appropriate pseudonyms instead of one’s actual name while writing a letter to the editor is worth pondering over. One does not come across this much in Indian newspapers as most of our readers like their own names proudly emblazoned in print. Yours Anguished from Brixton or Yours Bewildered from Henley-on-Sea are typical examples from abroad. It would be good to come across Yours Terrified from Thiruvananthapuram or Yours Bemused from Bhatinda.

                                         Finis