Several days ago I put out a call asking for query letters to critique so I could show them to folks attending a workshop.
I received 25, and was able to use about 23. Only one person quivered (so far) at my cold cruel hand. (A new personal best for me, usually they drop like flies).
The thing that has amazed me, really amazed me, is how much better the queries got after one or two revisions. Several went from things I would have rejected in a heartbeat to things I'd actually read.
I've long bemoaned how hard it is for writers to get query letter feedback. Writing conferences emphasize pitching. I think that's a serious serious mistake. The writers are panic stricken, for starters. Even if I like the idea I need to see the actual writing, and it's impossible to help someone with a query letter if they're speaking it to you and trying not to hyperventilate.
So, before I reconsider and/or come to my senses, a quick poll. Where are those of you who read this blog in the query letter process?
(and if you're my client, you better not say click any of these answers! I ain't lettin' none of you go, no matter how much you beg, scream or holler.)
I ask because it occurs to me that doing one letter a week or so, with edits, comments and revisions, might be of use to people here. I'm absolutely not going to do some sort of crazy ass free for all with 500 letters and comments on each one. Noooooo. One a week might even be too much.
The thing is, if you've got a good project and the only thing standing between me, and it, is a crappy query letter, I'd be one smart agent to help you fix it so I'd be enticed to read it, wouldn't I?
(that question is not on the poll but I hope you'd all say yes.)
Thursday, April 03, 2008
Why I LOVE my job...reason #24
Cause clients know what kinds of things to send me when we ink a deal.
Yowza!
Yowza!
Wednesday, April 02, 2008
Ok, so I was rude
Yea, I confess. I was really rude to an author tonight.
Yes, I know better.
Yes, I should have better manners.
Yes, I'm probably going to straight to hell in this handbasket thing that just came Federal Express from some guy named Luc StNoir.
Here's my side of the story. (There's probably another one, but this is my blog, my version)
I went to an event that was chockablock full of authors tonight. Normally I fly very much under the radar at these things. No name badge, certainly no introducing myself with my full name or with the company name. I never say what I do. If anyone asks I say "sales" and hope they think it's a fancy way of saying taxi dancer at a waterfront dive bar.
Sometimes my cover gets blown. Tonight was one of those nights. I didn't make a big deal of it, just steered the conversation to something safe like the presidential election or why it should be legal to serve cat meat in a restaurant.
My luck ran out at the end of the event. 100 people were headed toward the exit, as I was, and I got buttonholed by an author. "Do you represent cozies?" she asked. I responded that I represented all kinds of crime fiction. "Are cozies considered crime fiction?" came next.
Now, it's 9pm, I'm trying to leave to get home and do four more hours of work, and my temper slipped a bit. "Cozies have always been considered crime fiction," I said in my most forbidding tone, one that is supposed to convey "and that's the last word we'll have on this subject."
Then it happened. The next words out of her mouth were "my book is about" and that is where I surrendered the last vestige of good manners, proper upbringing and bought my one way ticket to hell. I said "don't tell me about your book."
Could I have said any one of ten thousand other things? Yes. I could have said "I'm sorry but I can't hear you." I could have feigned a choking fit. I could have channelled Rita Rosenkranz the most polite and gracious agent in the world.
I didn't. I said "don't tell me about your book."
There may be some redemption for me in that I did remember to say "you can send me a query letter and I'll read it" but basically I told her to take a hike.
I'm not proud of this, and I'm probably going to try hard not to do it again. On the subway home, I figured out how I will avoid this in the future.
It turns out some clients of mine own children. Very cute ones in fact. I've met two and they were quite charming. Other clients have children they have not shown me yet (probably a well developed sense of protecting their kids accounts for this oversight.)
Here's my plan. I'm going to get an array of photos of these CCC (Cute Client Children) and the next time someone says "can I tell you about my book" I'm going say "sure, absolutely, but first let me show you pictures of these great kids." I figure 50 pictures should do it. If by some horrid chance there aren't 50 children, I'll start collecting pictures of dogs, cats...and goats.
yup, that's the plan! I'll let you know how it goes.
And in case anyone reading this gets the wrong idea, this event was not a writing conference or workshop. It was not an event designed for authors to meet agents. I wouldn't have said that at a writing conference or one of those events.
And if you're reading this and wondering how to avoid being the person who has to look at all those pictures here's the drill:
If you meet an agent at a social event you do not initiate talk about your book. If s/he asks, you can respond, but you do not initiate that conversation.
Agents are on the lookout for good books, but generally we watch for them in our incoming queries, not in hurried conversations in a throng of people.
Have I initiated interest in books at gatherings like these? You bet. It's ALWAYS after a conversation that covered a topic of interest to me, and the author mentioned their book was on that subject. The author did not say "would you like to read it." I said "I'd love to read it."
See the difference?
Social contact with agents can be effective if you don't fling yourself at us.
Yes, I know better.
Yes, I should have better manners.
Yes, I'm probably going to straight to hell in this handbasket thing that just came Federal Express from some guy named Luc StNoir.
Here's my side of the story. (There's probably another one, but this is my blog, my version)
I went to an event that was chockablock full of authors tonight. Normally I fly very much under the radar at these things. No name badge, certainly no introducing myself with my full name or with the company name. I never say what I do. If anyone asks I say "sales" and hope they think it's a fancy way of saying taxi dancer at a waterfront dive bar.
Sometimes my cover gets blown. Tonight was one of those nights. I didn't make a big deal of it, just steered the conversation to something safe like the presidential election or why it should be legal to serve cat meat in a restaurant.
My luck ran out at the end of the event. 100 people were headed toward the exit, as I was, and I got buttonholed by an author. "Do you represent cozies?" she asked. I responded that I represented all kinds of crime fiction. "Are cozies considered crime fiction?" came next.
Now, it's 9pm, I'm trying to leave to get home and do four more hours of work, and my temper slipped a bit. "Cozies have always been considered crime fiction," I said in my most forbidding tone, one that is supposed to convey "and that's the last word we'll have on this subject."
Then it happened. The next words out of her mouth were "my book is about" and that is where I surrendered the last vestige of good manners, proper upbringing and bought my one way ticket to hell. I said "don't tell me about your book."
Could I have said any one of ten thousand other things? Yes. I could have said "I'm sorry but I can't hear you." I could have feigned a choking fit. I could have channelled Rita Rosenkranz the most polite and gracious agent in the world.
I didn't. I said "don't tell me about your book."
There may be some redemption for me in that I did remember to say "you can send me a query letter and I'll read it" but basically I told her to take a hike.
I'm not proud of this, and I'm probably going to try hard not to do it again. On the subway home, I figured out how I will avoid this in the future.
It turns out some clients of mine own children. Very cute ones in fact. I've met two and they were quite charming. Other clients have children they have not shown me yet (probably a well developed sense of protecting their kids accounts for this oversight.)
Here's my plan. I'm going to get an array of photos of these CCC (Cute Client Children) and the next time someone says "can I tell you about my book" I'm going say "sure, absolutely, but first let me show you pictures of these great kids." I figure 50 pictures should do it. If by some horrid chance there aren't 50 children, I'll start collecting pictures of dogs, cats...and goats.
yup, that's the plan! I'll let you know how it goes.
And in case anyone reading this gets the wrong idea, this event was not a writing conference or workshop. It was not an event designed for authors to meet agents. I wouldn't have said that at a writing conference or one of those events.
And if you're reading this and wondering how to avoid being the person who has to look at all those pictures here's the drill:
If you meet an agent at a social event you do not initiate talk about your book. If s/he asks, you can respond, but you do not initiate that conversation.
Agents are on the lookout for good books, but generally we watch for them in our incoming queries, not in hurried conversations in a throng of people.
Have I initiated interest in books at gatherings like these? You bet. It's ALWAYS after a conversation that covered a topic of interest to me, and the author mentioned their book was on that subject. The author did not say "would you like to read it." I said "I'd love to read it."
See the difference?
Social contact with agents can be effective if you don't fling yourself at us.
Anyone who tells you agents don't read incoming queries should read this
From Publishers Lunch deal list today:
FICTION: DEBUT
Scientist, doctor and researcher with over 50 major awards in science and a professor medicine at the Mayo Clinic, Dr. James Levine's debut RIVER OF WORDS, the surprisingly hopeful story of 15-year old girl whose poverty-stricken family sells her into sexual slavery and she lives in a cage on the streets of Mumbai, but uses writing and imagination to transcend her reality, to Cindy Spiegel at Spiegel & Grau, for six figures, in a pre-empt, by Natanya Wheeler at the Lowenstein-Yost (who found the manuscript in the agency slush pile) (world).
Why I need to win the lottery today!
SJ Rozan is leading a crime writing workshop this August in Assisi, Italy. As part of Art Workshop International, writers spend two weeks in a beautiful setting, working intensely on novels or stories, in progress or just begun; but there's still plenty of time for long walks, wonderful food, and good company. Here's the site.
What Happens in Wisconsin STAYS...well, not quite in Wisconsin
When I go to writing conferences, people know EXACTLY where to find me: the hotel bar. On the other hand, when our young intrepid agent Amy Tipton goes to conferences, people not only adore her...if they lose her phone number, they go to great lengths to find her again.
About 700 people found this on Craigslist and called her to say "didja see yourself."
About 700 people found this on Craigslist and called her to say "didja see yourself."
Amy The Missing Literary Agent - m4w
Reply to: (craigslist email)
Date: 2008-03-30, 2:58PM
Dang...I somehow managed to completely hose my phone and subsequently, lose your number. I was seriously looking forward to coffee and conversation. Or perhaps was I just mis-reading the effects of the 12 hour drinking? If nothing else, you dropped into my orbit at the right time, and gave me the little bit of adventure and hint of possibilities I sorely needed. And for that, I thank you sincerely. Either way, if you (or someone who knows a beer drinking, Parliament smoking, Bike Messenger dating literary agent) see this, I hope that maybe you will try to get in touch.
Location: Madison-Wisconsin
Original URL: http://newyork.craigslist.org/brk/mis/624148116.html
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