The Un-loved Query

I have queries on my mind.

There is a fabulous online conference happening right now called Write on Con and one part of it involves attendees posting queries to the forums that may be seen by a secret "ninja agent" and requested. How exciting is that?

Unfortunately, not everyone will have their book requested.  Some may even receive less than positive and sometimes downright hurtful feedback.  That's a risk in posting to a public forum. Even though it's almost always a valuable learning-experience, when it happens, it can still be a blow to your self-confidence.  So I wanted to share the time when I got less-than-stellar feedback on my query attempt for "Rape Girl".

My query actually got singled out as "a cliche" when I posted it to Absolute Write Water Cooler for feedback last year. In fact, a separate thread was started to discuss its cliche-ness.  At that point, "Rape Girl" had a rather pathetic attempt at a less harsh-sounding title.  It was called  "Word on my Forehead".  Feel free to go over and read the whole shebang for yourself if you'd like.

The thing is my book is NOT a cliche. I knew that. But it was hard not to be affected by being set-apart like that, especially with that particular "c" word--ouch!  After a couple hours of distress, however,  I was able to convert it to a learning experience and saw the value of the discussion.  Yet it wasn't until my editor told me that my book was "riveting and powerful" that I let the word "cliche" unwind from that tight place in the corner of my brain and drift away.

Queries are hard.  Your attempt may not net you a request.  It may even draw some fire.  But, if you're a writer, you need to believe in yourself and your work despite all of that and keep plugging away. I'd write the query for RG very differently today. Stephen Roxburgh helped me identify the heart of my book--something I hadn't managed to zero in on while writing it.  Given more time and introspection, and query attempts, I think I would have.  You have nothing but time to get it right.  Believe me, the book industry isn't going anywhere.  So keep on keepin' on.

And best of luck!

What I Learned from a Form Rejection

There is a lot of advice out there for writers, much of it good.  One bit I took firmly to heart was that submissions should be targeted to agents or editors  when seeking publication.  You'll have better luck--they say--if you submit to someone who likes the books you like and works with books in the genre you write.  Makes sense, no?

I only sent a query letter to one agent: Suzie Townsend. Our favorite books were eerily similar (Enders Game, Time Traveler's Wife, etc) and, from her blog, I knew she supported and loved books similar to my own (Lucky, Speak, etc).  Basically, it seemed destined that we should work together (yeah, I'm superstitious that way).  But, apparently, it wasn't.

I got my form rejection a week after I sent the query.  It was crushing, of course, and at first I felt like I'd made a huge mistake even sending it.  I'd been impulsive.  And, worst of all there wasn't even a shred of feedback to know what the problem was as she saw it.  Maybe my book just sucked?  But then I realized something: If Suzie, to whom I'd targeted the submission so carefully, wasn't intrigued enough by my query and first 10 pages to request more, then that by itself told me a lot.   It told me that 1. My query wasn't strong enough--I hadn't managed to show what set my book apart from others. and 2. I'd started my novel in the wrong place. The opening wasn't gripping enough.  

Somehow that knowledge put me into the zone that all writers crave--you know the one, where your brain actually starts working?  Mine was like a laser on my manuscript.  All the separate pieces looked like little glowing nuggets that could be rearranged into a new order, a better order, a more gripping order. I then rewrote them enough that they transitioned smoothly and that seemed to shake loose the understanding of what elements of the story actually really set my book apart.  After that I was able to write a new, much better query letter, and voila!  I had a much, much stronger submission in my hands.  All because of a form rejection.

So, thank you, Suzie!  My editor says he doesn't foresee extensive revisions and I think I know why.

Has anyone else ever learned something by reading between the lines of a rejection?   If so, I'd love to hear about it.