Incomparable

  

 

My dream pub (as in publication, not bar)
photo by cottonbro studios on pexels

 

Comp. 

It’s one of those abbreviations that writers, editors and agents often bandy about. For years I had no clue what it actually meant, and true to form, I was too lazy to look it up. So in my mind “comp” stood for “complete” as in—"send us the complete piece/manuscript, not a pitch”. The other idea I had? “Comp” meant free (complimentary), as in, “this class/magazine/retreat is free” OR “we do not pay for essays. Accepted authors, however, do get one copy of the issue containing their work at no charge. You’re welcome!”

 

Then one day, embarrassingly recently, I finally learned what “comp” meant in the writerly context. Comp is the title of a published work that your own work resembles (“comparable”—get it?) So, if J.K. Rowling was submitting the first Harry Potter book, she might compare it to other books about the adventures of bespectacled young British student wizards named Harry. 

 

Perhaps that’s a bad example. 

 

More like:

 

Gone with the Wind is a sweeping saga of the old South during the Civil War and Reconstruction. Comp title: War and Peace

 

War and Peace is a sweeping saga of Russia during the time of Napoleon. Comp title: Gone with the Wind

 

The Wind in the Willows is a sweeping saga of the English countryside, and a bunch of animals that act just like people. Comp title: Animal Farm

 

Animal Farm is a sweeping saga of animals who overthrow their human masters, only to replicate the greedy and corrupt political system against which they had rebelled. Comp title: Dr. Seuss Discovers the Farm

 

The War in the Willows is a sweeping saga of several willow trees who, try as they might, cannot make one another weep. Comp title: Dr. Seuss Discovers the Riverbank

 

And so on and so forth. 

 

Anyhoo, now that I’m in the know, I’m eager to start dropping “comps” into my own submissions and queries. Check this out:

 

Dear Ed: (short for editor) (it’s fine) (trust me, they love to be called that)

 

I invite you to consider my essay “A Mildly Humorous, But Also Insightful, Look at Getting Old” for your swell magazine, Getting Old. It’s a sweeping saga of my perilous, yet somewhat comical, journey through middle age and beyond, filled with the gentle humor and insight your readers have come to expect (not from me, because I haven’t been published in your fine mag yet, but they have come to expect them—gentle humor/insight—from the other writers you have published in the past.)

 

The essay is currently 800 words, though I am happy to delete every other word if that’s too long for you, or, alternatively, add five or six adjectives/adverbs to every noun/verb, if it’s too short. 

 

I hope to hear from you soon, Ed! Thanks so much for your consideration. I’m a huge fan of Getting Old (your super publication, not the aging process, haha!)

 

Sincerely,

 

Elise Seyfried

 

PS Almost forgot! Comp title: Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Apprentice.