Sending out query letters is a very stressful part of writing. If I am emailing the letter, I stare at the page for a while - rereading and rereading - and then after taking a deep breath, I hit send. If I mail the letter, I stand, hovering the envelope over the drop box and try to channel positive energy into the envelope. Silly, I know, but, hey. But as I am walking away, I tell myself - I did all that I could and now it is up to someone else. But, it got me thinking-- Am I doing enough? Should I have a special chant? A special pair of magic query shoes?
When I receive a letter back, I prepare myself for the no. So if it is a no, I'm not surprised but if I get a beautiful partial request - I am ecstatic. But with each closed door, I open a new one by mailing out a new letter. I once met a published author, who said she would pour a glass of wine and curl up in her favorite chair to read her letters. I don't have that much patience. I rip them open, close my eyes for a brief second, and read it right away.
So, for this week's Watcha Say Wednesday, I ask you - What are your query letter rituals? Do you have a certain day that you send out query letters? Do you get a "no" and then send out a new letter? Do you say a serenity prayer or burn incense? How 'bout them magic query shoes, or shirt, or under britches?
What about when you receive a response from an agent? Do you read it right away, or let them accumulate? Do you only open them in a certain chair, at a specific time? Do you lie down on the floor so that you don't hurt yourself if you faint?
Answer what speaks to you, and ignore the rest. But do tell, I'm quite curious.
I set off on the mission of querying a couple of months ago. I felt great about the condition of my manuscript, I had two versions of query letters, and was off to find agents that represent my genre. I sent off one or two at a time, spacing them out. I decided to query slowly.
I received a few no’s, but also received a few requests for partials. Let me tell you—that is an exciting yet terrifying experience. Sometimes I don’t know which I was more concerned with – the yes or the no. Am I ready for this?
But one of the most spectacular things happened. I received the mystical helpful rejection. The agent said he would pass, but he was very honest about exactly why. He offered advice to improve the manuscript. In the writing world, this is the next best thing to a yes. Wow!
Now, I will be honest. I read it just like I’ve read all of my initial critiques. The first time with my heart broken, the second time in denial, and then when I was ready – with my mind open.
I began planning the new direction for the book, taking his advice to heart. In my particular case, it involved trimming down the beginning and streamlining the initial plot. I chopped nearly seventeen pages out of the first fifty, adding more strategically placed cliffhangers to help pull the reader forward.
There were some really fun scenes that had to be pulled. It hurt to do so, but I believe it truly helped the story. And with this new beginning, the book reads more like a supernatural romance than the original urban fantasy that I had been trying to sell it as. A slight switch, but the reader can get a feel for what they are getting themselves into much quicker.
So, my fine penned friends, it pays to query slowly. Had I sent out a large chunk of letters, I would have burnt bridges with a version of a book that wasn’t where it needed to be. And like I said – I needed the advice of a professional to get it closer to perfection. Not to mention, I took it as a huge compliment that the agent took his time to give me advice.
If you are querying – query slowly. Give agents the time to review your work. Make changes, keep growing, and above all – don’t give up!
Hello. It's been nearly three weeks since my last confession blog post. I have missed you all dearly, but needed a little break to catch up on life. I did learn a valuable lesson. When a dentist/doctor/nurse tells you that it won't hurt, they are big fat liars. Wisdom teeth extractions are far more painful than I anticipated. Oh, I understand why they lie; I get that. If they didn't, I wouldn't let them near me. But still.
One thing that I have accomplished since last speaking to you is that I have begun to pitch and query Iron Thirst. I participated in my first face-to-face pitch with an agent (who did ask for a partial), and I have started sending out query letters. I find that I actually enjoyed pitching the book in person, much more than sending out query letters. I talked a little bit about it HERE. Unfortunately, I can't go to conferences every weekend and mingle with agents. So query letters will have to do.
Which brings me to this week's Watcha Say Wednesday.
Do you prefer to send out query letters, or do you prefer the in-person pitch? When you query - how many do you keep outstanding at a time? Do you have an "elevator pitch" ready to go, or do you wing it?
Answer what speaks to you and ignore the rest. But do tell, curious minds want to know.
Well, this is going to be a very random blog, but sometimes that is what we need. First, I want to say this week’s Watcha Say Wednesday was awesome! I learn so much from you guys, and it was fascinating to see how other writers create their stories. (If you didn’t chime in, you still can.) It seemed the majority came up with a concept first. That’s me, too. I come up with the concept, normally a “what if,” then I interview characters until I find the perfect one that will breathe life into the concept. Then find their natural habitat – and go from there. This was fun. I hope you guys are enjoying WSW as much as I am. Maybe next week won’t be so crazy, and I can weigh in more, but I did enjoy seeing all the wonderful responses come in.
This week I learned that writing = sleeping. I can stay up really late when I’m writing, and the next morning I’m a ball of sunshine. However, if I stay up because I’m trying to take the legs out from under my to-do list –yea, not so much. The next morning I need coffee on an I.V. drip, and turn into Queen Grumperella. Very strange, but enlightening.
Next Monday, I will be rolling out --- wait for it --- wait for it --- The Keep It Going Contest. Details and the story will be posted Sunday night – so come back by. I’m making a few changes based on the suggestions received.
And… AWARDS.
Laurel over at Laurel’s Leaves passed on the “Creative Writer” award. I think you’ve seen it about, but the rules are for me to lie to you five out of six times and you get to guess which one is the truth. So, remember – I didn’t lie to you on purpose—Laurel made me do it.
So, here we go.
1) When I was in the third grade, I won the school spelling bee. I went to regionals, but was out smarted by a kid that had a giant bald spot on the back of his head. Looking back, I’m guessing his mom got a little careless with the clippers.
2) The day after I bought my last car, a pregnant woman crashed into me in a mall parking lot. Her friend got out of the car and started yelling at me like it was my fault. Meanwhile, the pregnant lady started crying. I felt so bad that I started apologizing. Did I mention that she hit me?
3) In the second grade, I started a petition to have one of the teacher’s aides fired. I thought that she was very mean- and with no reason. So I pranced about the playground and had kids sign up. I walked it right into the principal’s office, who called my dad.
4) The first place that I rented by myself was outside of San Antonio. It was a two bedroom trailer, with a lavender bathtub, sink and toilet in the bathroom. I was so excited that the first thing I bought was a matching shower curtain. Then my friends and I drank heavily, and I got to be the first one to yack in the purple toilet.
5) I’ve always been a music lover. I started playing the violin in the third grade and played until the sixth grade. I only quit, because the cute boy thought it was lame. The cute boy that I am sure is now lame.
6) I went to my senior prom with my (at the time) boyfriend’s best friend. Poor guy got grounded, and was trying to be nice by offering up his buddy’s services. He, basically, just drove me there, and I hung with my friend’s all night. I found out later that the boyfriend sent him as a spy. Naughty, naughty, boyfriend.
Michael over at Mental Masturbation (Is that not the coolest frickin name for a blog?) gifted me with the Creative Writer Award, well one that doesn’t turn me into a pathological liar. If you haven’t been over to his blog, go check it out. He has something new daily. I am awarding the following Creative Writers.
Last, but not least. My newest attempt at a query letter is up on Public Query Slushpile. Stop by and let me know what you think. I am trying out a less is more philosophy. Wondering if it works, or if it just makes it more confusing.
That’s all I have for today. Stop back by on Monday for the contest.
Which one do you think is the truth? Which one do you think is the biggest lie? How the heck was your week? And what do you think of my new philosophy of write=sleep?
In May, six agents will descend upon Atlanta. Authors will line up to tell them about their book. Give them the ole verbal pitch. Authors, the introverts, verbally selling their book, by talking, out loud. Oh boy!
I knew this would be a great opportunity, but like other writers, I am terrified of the thought. Lucky for me, the Atlanta Writers Club offered two sets of Pitch Critique Workshops; one in December and one in January. I participated in the one that just passed.
Here’s how it worked. First, I sent in the first 20 pages of Iron Thirst to have critiqued by Joshilyn Jackson (there were three authors to choose from), and then showed up on Dec 5th to receive her critique of those pages. In addition, I sat down with her a second time and gave her my pitch, and she critiqued that as well.
Preparing for the pitch was unlike anything that I’ve ever done before. I started off with my query letter and ballooned it and made it more conversational. Then I removed all the extra buzz words, rehearsed it a few times, realized that it sucked, threw it in the trash, started over, and stumbled upon something…
The verbal pitch is a golden opportunity. It’s not just the opportunity to meet the agent and put a face with the name. It’s a chance to read the agent, not just have them read the query.
What is the biggest problem with the query letter? It’s not just that the agent receives hundreds of them either daily or weekly. It’s not just that you are trying to sell your 80K word story in 250 words or less. It’s that you can’t see their reaction. You can’t tell when you are losing them. You can’t answer their questions when they get a puzzled look on their face.
Writers are not generally great talkers, but we are excellent readers. We are good at watching people’s body posture, and at reading their emotions. It’s what we do with our characters, right? The verbal pitch lets us see when we need to detour, speed it up, slow it down, or wrap it up.
Watching their body cues is the greatest advice I can give when it comes to giving a verbal pitch. But in addition to that, here are a few other tips I will offer from my experience.
Research the person that you are going to be pitching to, and find a way to make a connection with them. Do they represent an author that you admire? Share a common bond of scuba-diving? Do they have a blog?
When you first sit down, do not launch directly into your pitch. Take a moment to speak to them as people and not as someone you wouldn’t be talking to unless your book’s life depended on it. No one likes to feel used. (But don’t worry, they know why you are there.) Then throw in that common bond or that you loved the book they wrote or represent.
Your pitch should be prepared, but not sound rehearsed. Know what you are going to say, but don’t sound like you are delivering something from a manuscript. Just talk to them, and tell them the story.
Don’t use all of your time pitching. Leave room for questions.
Anticipate questions. Have answers ready.
And ask questions. Agents are a wealth of knowledge.
The beauty of a pitch is that you can actually talk a little bit more about your book and why it is different. You don’t get that opportunity in the query letter.
Be excited about your book. If you sound bored when you are pitching it to them, they don’t want to read it. You wrote it and you don’t seem impressed.
Relax. These are people. People that love books.
The critique of my mock pitch went very well. Joshilyn said that she would ask for pages. Stupid me didn’t take her up on it. Granted she is an author and not an agent, but she seemed very interested in the story, and it would have been flippin awesome to have her read it. *slaps forehead* She is an awesome person, and a lot of fun. Her blog cracks me up.
If you are in the Atlanta area, there is another critique workshop next month. Head over to the Atlanta Writers Club website. If you are not a member, ah-hem, do that first. Clubs are awesome, but that’s another post. (Yay, an idea for another post!!)
The big conference is in May. Wish me luck!
So, have you ever participated in a verbal pitch? How did it go? What is some of the best advice that you have received regarding the verbal pitch?
Since this is going to be a long trek into the wilderness, I might as well discuss what it is exactly that we are looking for. And since you have taken the time to come with me, you need to be aware of what the future holds. The process of seeking representation is a long, tedious one. One that will require thick skin, patience, hope and a series of distractions as to not physically assault the post man when he isn’t particularly kind to me in his daily deliveries. They say don’t shoot the messenger, but he’s just standing there, letter in hand, delivering me the news.I’m kidding, of course.
The first step is to create a query letter. If you are not familiar with this term, let me enlighten you. For someone who has spent the time, effort, and research into writing a 300 page novel, it is the scariest thing imaginable. It is your pitch. Your one shot. It is one page that describes why an agent should waste their time on you and your manuscript. It consists of an introduction paragraph, the pitch (something similar to what would appear on the jacket cover of the book when published), a little bit about you (particular daunting if you have no previous writing to mention, contests you’ve won, or a degree that has remote chance of sparking their interest), a thanks for reading, and the end. You must “wow” them in order to reach step two. From my research, this is where a large percentage of your letters will stop. Pollyanna attitude says, “If they weren’t impressed, they are not the agent for me. I will continue to search for the one that believes in my idea and will join me on the path to deliver the book to the world.”
Step two is a request for a partial. The agent read the query letter and either was really impressed, having a slow day (unlikely, I’ve heard of agents going through over 100 query letters in a week), or a momentary lack of judgment; and then requested that you send her more pages. Some want the first 30 or 50 pages, others first three chapters and a synopsis, or any combination of things depending on their personal style. You’re foot is in the door, but you haven’t been asked to sit down; you are just kind of gawking at them awkwardly waiting, waiting on the nod or the shaking of the head. And you may be waiting a while.
Step three is a request for a full. The agent read the partial pages submitted, and asked that you send her the whole thing. This was that nod you were waiting on. This is big. She has asked that you sit down, but don’t get too comfortable. She may need that chair in case something better walks in. She is not committed to you, and you can very easily get a “no’ at this stage as quickly as you could at any other. And from what I hear and can only imagine, this is the most painful no. They read it; can’t just blame it on a poorly written query letter – it was the book that turned them off.
Step four; yea, let’s give it a shot. She liked it! She wants to sell it, and she sees potential. Doesn’t mean a publisher will, but now someone else believes in you. Exhale for a brief moment; this is a proud moment. Book is not on the shelves, but you now actually have a real shot of seeing it happen. She will walk you through the steps from here, not me. I have no idea… I’m still on step one.
As the novel draws closer and closer to its grand finale, I have begun the tedious task of researching the gazillion agents that exist. Website after website. Page after page. Many are so impersonal and you don’t learn much other than the basic info: submission guidelines, genre types, etc. Aw, what’s in a name?
But yesterday I stumbled over my own personal kindred spirit. A woman that enjoys her work, is able to laugh at the horrible query letter, and even offers love and support to first time authors. I will not disclose her name for she is mine. All mine! Actually, I won’t release her identity just in case I don’t win her heart as she has won mine. I won’t offend the poor sap who gets stuck with me as I prattle on about the moment that I realized that the periodic symbol for Iron was “Fe” and that was also the nickname of the main character in my book (Fee) titled Iron Obsession. It was a proud moment. A real face palm experience. I digress.
I was so impressed by this woman’s site and her personality that I instantly started crafting my first query letter. Not to send – oh no – it is not time. Just a chance to play with it and see if I am able to sum up why you should read a 300 page book in about two paragraphs. AND – She does not ask for a synopsis. Did I mention that I love her? For those of you who are not familiar with the author’s arch enemy, the synopsis – let me summarize. (That was punarific!) A synopsis is when the agent or publisher asks an author who has spent months and most often years perfecting a 70,000+ word piece of art, something that has required them to ignore friends and family and washing dishes to create, and summarize it in about, umm, five pages. All of it. Even the cliff-hangers. Even the secret BAM at the end. (Shakes head.) I understand why. I understand it is often needed – you know the whole “so many books, so little time” thing. Doesn’t mean you have to like it. We write them, because they ask for them. And if it gets the manuscript read – then so be it. But not her. She wants the first 30 pages of the manuscript. If impressed, she asks for the whole enchilada. Love her!
So, now I’m off to research other agents. What? Can’t put all your kittens in one basket! Kittens get up and run away.
