How Not To Query: 1 of 100s
The Slap In The Face
Following Well-Intentioned Bad Advice When Your Gut Says No
Do you ever read or hear a snippet of something that sends you back to some other place and a time? Some might call it remembering. But when you go so deep into that memory, back in that moment, it feels like reliving. I had this experience listening to the Author’s Talking Bookish podcast featuring
. She was describing the query process for her award-winning debut The Exit Strategy. She made a quick mention about having queried too early, though at the time she couldn’t have known it. This struck a chord.Like many new authors, I too had queried too early, and I found myself adrift, reliving the memories of my overly eager submissions. I knew in my bones my story wasn’t fully cooked yet. But when seasoned authors, editors, alpha-beta readers, are saying “It’s sooo good. Query it. Don’t wait,” you believe.
I took the rejections like a champ with a bloodied lip and swollen eye because it shouldn’t have been accepted. I rewrote, reworked and, again, following the advice of more good people, I pitched Not Yours to Keep to an in-person panel who had pre-read my first fifty.
Agent One never looked up from her phone. A deep sense of frustration gripped my already frayed nerves. How could the fate of my manuscript and my future as an author rest in the scrolling hands of a child younger than mine? “It’s not my genre” was the most I understood of their you’re-not-worthy-of-my-time mumbling. Fair and thank you, as our personalities clearly weren’t a fruitful fit.
Agent Two loved my pages, plot, and pitch. “I can’t sell it in today’s market.” Got it. No offense taken. A wonderful agent to work with, but not if you can’t sell. More importantly, an agent loved my book. Not a bad take away.
Agent Three. An absolutely lovely human. We clicked like old friends and used up our minutes chatting about our commonalties. Then she hugged my pages to her chest, closed her eyes and inhaled like she’d just fallen in love. She said, “This is the story I’ve always needed but never knew it.” I’d definitely just heard that, right? The ‘I want you’ words every pitching author would die for? This is it! 💫🍾🥂 💫 Play it cool. Her eyes fluttered open as she turned to me. “I just wish it was written by someone else.”
What would you do right then?
Despite the desire to drop on the floor and curl up in a fetal position under the table, there is no choice really but to hold your head high with a pretense of maturity. That damn high road. I will always choose it, but never ever has it felt satisfying. I’m not really sure what the right response is when you’ve got acute emotional whiplash. “Thank-you,” seemed disingenuous at best, but you must thank agents for their time, even if they’ve torn out your heart. Hoping to appear unaffected, I slowly stood with the intention of casually walking away and finding a good hiding spot. Still in shock, though, I heard myself ask, “What would it take for me to be the right author?”
I have plenty of stories of the ‘what not to do when you are querying’ rules I’ve broken, but this was top-notch—NEVER BEG.
I’m sure it came off like pleading, but I truly wanted to know what I was doing wrong. How could I better myself?
Remember when I said Agent Three was a lovely person? Dang, she really was. She sat me back down, and we talked through the weakness she saw in the writing, gave me advice on how to season my skills. And ultimately, the worst authorly thing ever said to me, painstakingly and oh so slowly, plumped my characters, plumbed my plot, and propelled my manuscript forward.
Had a compassionate agent not delivered that impactful slap in the face, I might have burned Not Yours to Keep at the stake.
I Read It:
It was such a treat to receive an ARC of Blind Spot, a novel by
!
With endearingly flawed characters and heart-pounding tension and twists, Blind Spot is a fast-paced thriller that will keep you guessing. A must-read for fans of captivating psychological thriller.
Blind Spot FINAL SCORE:
1.5 READING DAYS - 🥴LIFE INTERRUPTUS = 7 ACTUAL READING DAYS HOURS!
The rating scale: Take the number of days to read, subtract all of life’s responsibilities, obligations, fun, and a few hours of sleep each night, and this heart-pounding, keep you guessing thriller, scores a 7 hour read~seriously- I was reading so fast I timed it!
And Now For Something Completely Serious…
When last I mentioned the small and smooth 3mm aneurysm in my brain, I was told to wait for a year. And I went forth, as one can, with a bomb wedged in their brain, oblivious to any symptoms, pretending that I was normal. Only I wasn’t, was I?
Eleven months after my summer wine and bike excursion (reminder here), I went hiking in Utah. Gorgeous. Stunning. I felt strong, unbeatable. The uphills were a cinch. The views were worth any muscle ache for pushing too hard. But those downhills? I was slow, unsteady, not woozy, per se, rather a feeling of distrust between my feet and my eyes. You’d shrug it off too—wouldn’t you? This odd uncertainty did, however, keep me from tackling the highest heights, the kinds of challenges I normally love. Did people in our group think I was chicken? Maybe. Anxious about heights? Certainly. Did I ever stop and think it had anything to do with the bad, bad thing in my head? The blip the doctors told me to ignore almost a year before? No. Of course not. Not until four weeks later when I went for an MRA.
What’s that, you ask? I’ll tell you next time.
Last Licks
I want to know the rest of both your stories. Bravo!
You are a master at cliffhangers!