Deus Ex Machina Wayson Foy, Second Place
Head Editor Highlow Publishing *** Jack read the letter twice, just to make sure he hadn’t misunderstood. There it was, plain as day. Rejected. Again. “Son of a bitch,” he muttered to himself.
Dear Jack,
Jack Hascolm poured himself a glass of bourbon from a glass bottle on his bookshelf. I reviewed your latest manuscript for the final He downed it in a quick gulp, and, wincing at the low burn in his gut, poured another. This third of Under Bleeding Skies III (Endtimes). one he took with him, sitting down on the Once again, I have to send it back as “Rejected.” couch in his living room and sipping it slowly. Same problem as the last couple of drafts, the climax is resolved too conveniently. All of the great Putting his feet up on the coffee table, he tried to relax. Nothing changed. His head continued build-up is ruined by a conclusion that comes out of nowhere. I would daresay this is your most its pounding, and that familiar worry that had exciting book yet, but this climax cheapens it all. It been plaguing him for the last three months is, I am sorry to say, the very definition of a “Deus was back, making his insides twist up in knots. Ex Machina” ending. I am confident that you will turn in an acceptable edit before the deadline you have agreed to. I look forward to hearing from you soon. Sincerely, Ben Gains [ 20 ]
Sipping on his bourbon, Jack read the letter one more time. The addition of alcohol had yielded no changes. “Rejected” still glared at him from the top of the page. And those words, those dreaded words. Deus Ex Machina. Jack knew the term, of course, he had studied writing in college. It had been pounded in his head by a half dozen teachers as the literary mistake to avoid. Deus Ex Machina. God from the machine.
