Follow ups to yesterday's questions

The comment section brought up some good questions on Monday's and yesterday's posts

Laura Mary

I have a question prompted by Monday’s post where you complained about people not sending pages…
So agents like to keep us on our toes, some like a synopsis, some like a query, some like a belly rub, some are strictly scratch behind the ears only. Some ask for pages, some don’t…
Would it be a really bad idea to just always send pages? If you’re sending 100% of the correct information asked for, is it a terrible, terrible thing to send extra? Are you saving time if they want to read more, or are you showing that you can’t follow rules and shooting yourself in the foot?
Now that I’ve written this out, I suspect there is no real answer, it will just depend on the agent, and how good or bad a day they’re having!

You're right. It's impossible to know the answer. I think agents who discard queries that don't follow guidelines to the nth degree are missing some good stuff, but I throw out stuff that has a synopsis rather than pages, so there's that.

I think pages are always a good idea, but some agents are hugely prickly about sending only what is asked for.

If an agent doesn't ask for pages, and you just have to send pages, at the very least, put them at the BOTTOM of the email. And leave out "I know you didn't ask for it but here are pages" cause that just alerts me to the fact you KNOW what I want and don't care.

If someone is sending me a synopsis (which I don't ask for) and it's the first thing I see after the query, well, sayonara baby, it's a pass.

If someone sends me a synopsis AFTER the pages, I don't read it, but I do read the pages.

There are ways to break the rules without shooting yourself in the foot.

Theresa

As for #2: Wow! Why would anyone ever, ever comment on someone's photo? As a lady person, this would cause me to press to reject button, no matter how excellent the query.

You are so so right. When this query got passed around, you could hear the ice forming on keyboards and strangled yelps of outrage.

My best guess is this query writer thought he (of course it was a he) was being folksy and charming. What lady doesn't like being told she's attractive? In other words, he's tone-deaf, and clueless. Just exactly what I'm NOT looking for in an author (or anyone actually.)  If you are a gentleman and worried about sounding clueless and tone-deaf, you're probably fine. The C and TD are noted for being oblivious, not worried.


Susan

When writing the story portion of the query letter, is it wrong to treat it as if you're writing a back-of-book blurb in that you want to entice the agent the same as if you'd want to entice the reader? Or are there more elements to consider in the query (not including the word count, comps, and bio)?

The reason I don't say "use the back of a book cover, or flap copy,  as a model" is that often they  sound like reviews.

Example:
This is Winter's Tale by Mark Helprin

 Notice the "transport you" and "one of the most beautiful and extraordinary stories of American literature." Neither of those are things you want to include in a query.

Example:
This is Jilo by JD Horn

Everything's jake until that last paragraph.


Both examples are very well-written jacket copy.
They're just not the best thing to say in a query.



Mark Ellis

If your novel is high-concept, is having the query/pitch/idea on public display problematic? 

No.
You have seen it for yourself here on the blog: five prompt words and not a single story is duplicated.
Authors worry about this a lot because they think it's the concept that sells the book.
It's the concept that gets me to READ the book.
How you develop that concept, write your characters, get plot on the page, surprise me: that's how I sell the book.

I could hold a flash fiction contest with a very good high concept idea, and I'll bet you painting my apartment for me that no two entries would be similar enough to look plagiarized.

Can I demand accessibility?

Equal accessibility is important to me, so I would want my book available in large print, braille, and/or audio-book formats, so it would be accessible to people w/ poor or no vision or w/ other conditions that would limit their ability to read a standard-printed book .

I know these formats can be expensive, and certainly many books are unavailable any of these ways. My question is, considering that this would be my first published book, and that I therefore have no clout at all, can I actually make this demand? Or would the publisher simply skip me for someone whose first book would be much cheaper to publish?

Should I mention I'd be willing to compromise elsewhere as needed, such as a smaller advance or giving up other rights, to make this happen?

And at what point in the query process do I tell my would-be agent how important this is to me?

The author is the seller of rights, and the publishers who acquire audio/large print rights etc. are the buyers. You can't actually force someone to buy something, (Oh how I wish you could!) even if you reduce the price to zero (your reference to smaller advance/other rights.)

Audio is the most likely subsidiary right to be licensed. Often the print publisher will acquire audio rights as part of their initial deal. If they do not, your agent can pitch them to an audio publisher. Whether an audio publisher is interested is entirely up to them. Even if it's hugely important to the author.

Large print rights are much more difficult to license. Large print publishers usually seek titles that are best sellers, and from established brand name authors. Large print rights are also often acquired by the publisher making the initial print deal. Of all the books I've sold, fewer than 10% have been licensed to large print publishers either thorough the initial print publisher or in a direct deal.

As for Braille, those rights are also addressed in the print contract. Most often they are made available at no charge to publishers who want them. It's a pretty standard clause.

That said, I've never seen a Braille book. But then again, maybe I'm just not looking in the right place.

I commend your enthusiasm for making your book available to people with reading challenges. It contrasts quite favorably to the fellow who was peeved that Braille rights were being given away. ("I wrote it why shouldn't I get paid" was his position. He did not sign the contract and I was happy to sever my relationship with him--for that and MANY other reasons)

But, as with many parts of the publishing process, whether your book will be available in these formats is almost entirely out of your control. You can certainly mention it to your agent but under ZERO circumstances will you make this a deal breaker.

And I should remind you that many people use electronic books, which can alter the font size, in lieu of buying or borrowing (from the library) large print books.  Most publishers will produce an ebook simultaneously with print, so your desire to be accessible can be met that way.

Rant: Dear Ms. Reid

Ms,Mrs, Miss Reid, (Trying to stay politically correct),

No you're not.
You're being sarcastic about the use of Ms.

When people trot out "I'm trying to be politically correct" the subtext is you people who want to define yourselves, rather than be defined by others, are just too cute, and don't need to be taken seriously by the rest of us.

Maybe the very idea of "Ms" offends you; you think it's bizarre or wrong or something other than "the real world, deal with it like a human being."  Fine. Think that. Rant about it on your blog. Holler it to the stars if you so desire.

But do not make the mistake of assuming everyone agrees with you. Or that I agree with you. 

I don't care what you think; I care how you behave.

Now I can hear the prickly pears amongst you saying "jeeze Sharkly it's just a damn salutation" and you're perfectly correct. BUT it tells me something about you. Something I don't much like. And it's a HUGE red flag for a potential client, who in the course of what I would hope will be a long and prosperous career, will need to interact politely with all sorts of people, some of whom might prefer Ms. Or be gender fluid. Or transitioning genders. And I need to have confidence that you're not going to just bulldoze your way through those interactions with "well, you look like girl, why is your name Homer?"


Bottom line: I am very happy to coach you on the arcane practices of the publishing world, but you have to come fully actualized on basic etiquette.

Do the +/=*%! math

A recent query letter informed me that the writer:

 found the [query] process to be backwards. If I was an agent, I think I would want to read a chapter or three, and see if I was even engaged by the author’s storytelling ability. If an author can’t get my attention in that period of time, then that’s their own fault. But if I am intrigued, I could then contact the author, and they could tell me ...[about the book.]

Fortunately the Shark Delay Team works 24/7 so the first response (which Sherwin Williams has inquired about patenting for use as a paint solvent) is now consigned to the ash heap.

And once the Shark Delay Team gave me back my keyboard I'd regained my sunny disposition, I thought let's get some data to substantiate my position rather than just firing off torpedoes of annoyance.


So I read the three chapters that came with this particular query. It took me just over four minutes, because frankly by chapter two I was skimming.

Here's the math:

Four minutes per query. I got 54 queries last week. 54 queries  x 4 minutes each (minimum) = 216 minutes. That's 3.6 hours of reading time. Every week.

Contrast that with reading queries: I read the next ten queries in three minutes. I said no to eight of them, and flagged two to remind me to read the enclosed pages when it's not midnight and I'm not cleaning up singe marks on the keyboard.

If I'd read all the pages with those eight rejected queries, I'd have spent just over thirty minutes (8 x 4), not three.

In other words, I would have spent 27 minutes to get the same results that three minutes did.

Here are some other reasons "just reading the chapters" isn't an efficient query system.
*I won't know the word count. It does no good to read three chapters of a book that's only 40K or more than 200K.

*I won't know the category. I generally don't take on science fiction or women's fiction or anything with supernatural elements. It's not in your best interest that I do, since there are many many other agents more capable than I in these categories.

*I won't know if what I'm reading is a prologue.

*I won't know if I'm reading about the main character.

*Most important: I will have no sense of the plot or characters before starting. And that writer friends is death for you. It breeds confusion. Confusion is NOT GOOD in a query letter. You know how I know that? Cause the QueryShark said so. About 200+ times.


And most important: when a writer tells me that the way I've set up my business practices doesn't suit them, it doesn't take much imagination to seeing how other business practices I insist on don't suit them either.

*No, you can't call the sales department to ask why your book isn't in the local Barnes and Noble.

*No, you can't call your editor to ask why the editorial notes aren't ready yet.

*No, you can't call the six editors who passed on this manuscript to see if they have any suggestions for improvement.


The first purpose of the query letter is to entice me to read your book.
The second is to demonstrate you are not an asshat.

A passing grade is not 50%.

A longer quiz (part two)

In part one of today's blog post, there was a quiz about what to do when you get an offer and you have requested fulls out with other agents.

Scenario One:
You've sent out queries and gotten several requests for full manuscripts. You've sent those out. You've gotten confirmation of receipt. At least one of those receipts mentions the dreaded "wait 90 days before following up".

Then, trumpets sound! Angels arrive! An offer! You're going to have an agent! It's not quite a miracle of course cause that's a Damn Fine Novel, but you're feeling pretty damn good!

What do you do next?
1. Accept the offer (after doing all the stuff you're supposed to about questions and research etc)?
2. Ask for some time to give other agents who've requested fulls time to read?
3. Accept the offer and notify the other agents who've requested fulls that you've accepted the offer and thank them for their time?


Scenario Two:
Trumpets sound! Angels arrive! An offer! You're going to have an agent!This one IS a miracle because it's absolutely your Dream Agent! Your DREAM AGENT wants YOU!!! You're not just feeling good, you're feeling so good you can leap tall buildings in a single bound.
What do you do next?
1. Accept the offer (this is, after all, Dreamy herself!)
2. Ask for some time to give other agents who've requested fulls time to read?
3. Accept the offer and notify the other agents who've requested fulls that you've accepted the offer and thank them for their time?


 Scenario Three
More quickly than you thought possible, less than 30 days later, Angels arrive! An offer! You're going to have an agent! You're so stunned at how quickly this happened that you actually call the library to verify today's date.
What do you do next?
1. Accept the offer (given that you're not supposed to nudge anyone till at least 90 days later)
2. Ask for some time to give other agents who've requested fulls time to read?
3. Accept the offer and notify the other agents who've requested fulls that you've accepted the offer and thank them for their time?



This is the ONLY right answer. Even if the agent making the initial offer is your Absolute Must Have Dream Agent. Even if it's been less than 90 days.  Even if you're terrified the offer will be withdrawn (it won't, as long as it's a SHORT window: less than a week)

Here's why: if you sign with an agent (any agent), then email me to tell me, my conclusion is you signed with someone you preferred more than me. No problem. I can live with not being your first choice.  Of course I feel a bit insulted but I'm not going to do anything about it like write back and say "how about a heads up here, Writerly One."

BUT if that relationship with Shiny New Agent doesn't work out (and I hope it does, really I do) and you're querying again next year, and you start with all the people who liked your work before (ie me) you're not Shiny Prospective Client anymore. I'm the one you didn't want the first time around. You think I don't remember? Think again.


If you believe "don't nudge for 90 days" means you shouldn't let me know of an offer, you're incorrect. I'd rather know than not. Give me a chance to get in the scrum. I'm a competitive beast. It's one of the things that makes me good at this job, and dreadful at a lot of others (nun, truckstop waitress, girl scout.)

Publishing is a long game, and you'll be very smart not to burn any bridges unless you absolutely have to.

Is this the post of a massively inflated ego? Yes of course. But it's still true, and it's still something to watch out for. In other words, my ego probably isn't shrinking ever anytime soon.

A longer quiz! (part one)

Here's a quiz to start your week off:

Scenario One:
You've sent out queries and gotten several requests for full manuscripts. You've sent those out. You've gotten confirmation of receipt. At least one of those receipts mentions the dreaded "wait 90 days before following up".

Then, trumpets sound! Angels arrive! An offer! You're going to have an agent! It's not quite a miracle of course cause that's a Damn Fine Novel, but you're feeling pretty damn good!

What do you do next?
1. Accept the offer (after doing all the stuff you're supposed to about questions and research etc)?
2. Ask for some time to give other agents who've requested fulls time to read?
3. Accept the offer and notify the other agents who've requested fulls that you've accepted the offer and thank them for their time?


Scenario Two:
You've sent out queries and gotten several requests for full manuscripts. You've sent those out. You've gotten confirmation of receipt. At least one of those receipts mentions the dreaded "wait 90 days before following up".

Then, trumpets sound! Angels arrive! An offer! You're going to have an agent!This one IS a miracle because it's absolutely your Dream Agent! Your DREAM AGENT wants YOU!!! You're not just feeling good, you're feeling so good you can leap tall buildings in a single bound.

What do you do next?
1. Accept the offer (this is, after all, Dreamy herself!)
2. Ask for some time to give other agents who've requested fulls time to read?
3. Accept the offer and notify the other agents who've requested fulls that you've accepted the offer and thank them for their time?

 Scenario Three
You've sent out queries and gotten several requests for full manuscripts. You've sent those out. You've gotten confirmation of receipt. At least one of those receipts mentions the dreaded "wait 90 days before following up".

Then, more quickly than you thought possible, less than 30 days later, Angels arrive! An offer! You're going to have an agent! You're so stunned at how quickly this happened that you actually call the library to verify today's date.

What do you do next?
1. Accept the offer (given that you're not supposed to nudge anyone till at least 90 days later)
2. Ask for some time to give other agents who've requested fulls time to read?
3. Accept the offer and notify the other agents who've requested fulls that you've accepted the offer and thank them for their time?



How about I give you some time to chew over your  thoughts in the comment trail before continuing the discussion in a new post that will go up today at noon.

Now that I have your attention

My queries piled up in the last few weeks so I spent an hour reading them last Friday morning. (Two requested fulls out of fifty or so, for those of you torturing yourselves with stats.)

All too frequently I'd get a reply along the lines of "well, if you didn't want that, how about this."

And of course, what followed wasn't a real query. Sometimes it was just a line or two with pages included, or maybe just a paragraph.

I can't tell you how annoying that is. Maybe this will help.

Just because I'm replying to a query does not mean you get to avoid actually writing the next one.

You write a real query every SINGLE time you want me to consider reading a project.

No half-baked, after thought, second hand prose. NO NO NO.

Here's why:

My answer is always no.

First, I've just told you no so I remember that. You want to give yourself some time here so when I get the query for that next book, my first thought isn't "oh yea, that's the guy I just said no to."

Second, if you reply to a query you've got the wrong subject line most often. And you've got RE: whatever that wrong subject line is. I think I've got a reply, not a query. Which means I'm skimming at BEST and tossing in the trash unread at worst.

Third, it's ineffective. I'm not MORE likely to consider your work at this moment. I'm less. That's NOT something you want.

A real query every single time, no matter what. No exceptions. NONE.

Query Question: are you even reading these?

I queried a novel 5 years ago and after 15 no responses, I gave up.

I am now in the process of the dreary queries again (different novel) and tried something crazy, just to test out a theory. Honestly, I don't think my writing career can get any worse at this point.

I sent out a query to an agent and within 3 days had what I knew was a "form" no. I shook it off and hoped that maybe one of the other agents I sent it to would be interested.  One "no" is no big deal. Only I couldn't stop thinking about it. The more I read about agents and writer's good and bad experiences, the more I started to think. 

So this is where the crazy comes in. I sent the exact same query for the exact same book. I literally copied and pasted the original letter in an email and sent it in to the exact same agent. Same thing, 3 days later I got a response from her. The exact same form response.

I can't help, but wonder if my letter and sample were even read. I followed the instructions posted to a T.

I feel like if she read the exact same twice, she would have just ignored the second. Right? I mean why tell me the same thing twice. I clearly wasn't smart enough to understand the first no (I'm thinking this from her perspective here of course).

She could just feel sorry for me and be politely telling me to leave her alone, again, in that same e-mail "form" fashion. I don't know.

It just seems as if an "I don't have time to read this right now" form letter is a better response than, "Your project sounds very interesting, but it's just not for me" email.
Of course this is me assuming that on Wednesday she rejects all of her Monday queries and on Friday rejects all of Wednesdays.

Now that I have typed all of this, I have lost sight of my question. I don't even know if I have a specific question. What do you think about his whole experience and my theory that agents aren't actually reading our letters?
Obviously, all agents aren't the same, and I'm certain that some do take the time to read the queries even if they don't take time to respond. 

In your spare time do you like to beat your head against the wall?

At this point I almost want to read your novel because you have a fevered imagination. Too bad you're using it to torment yourself instead of entice ME.

For starters, let's both of us agree that you don't know a damn thing about how the OTHER side of the query process works. By my count,  you've sent 17 query letters total, and that's over the course of five years. 

I read 17 query letters in 30 minutes a day. Every day. For YEARS now.

And I can tell you that people sending duplicate queries by mistake, or because of bad record keeping, or because they misspelled one word in the closing paragraph, or they failed to add their twitter handle is so common that I don't even notice any more.

I don't investigate. I certainly don't assume the writer is stupid. Or poorly organized. Or anything. I just reply again.

I do this because it's the easiest thing for me to do. And frankly, I'm very invested in keeping things simple.

Now, you're about to become a crazy person here, and you're doing it over something you have ZERO control over.

Do not do that.
Do this: Send more queries.
You can't start to complain or kvetch until you've sent 100.

For ONE book.

And if you don't think your writing career can get worse, let me introduce you to a cold hard truth: you keep sending duplicate queries to torment yourself or prove that agents aren't reading your stuff and you're going to find even agents like me [who respond to ALL queries] ignore you. One fast way to get on my Very Bad Side is to resend the same query endlessly. [Yes, that happens.]

If you're really seriously worried agents aren't reading your work, get to a writing conference. Make some pitch appointments. Take your query. Find out what needs improving.

There is one basic fact you're forgetting here: agents are looking for things to sell.  Finding them is largely a numbers game once your query and pages are in good shape.

Quit making yourself crazy. Go work on your novel. I'm sure there are a few characters in there who could use some skullduggery in their lives.

      

Query Question: How to requery

I received the following feed back from an agent:
Thank you for your query of (title).  Although your story is intriguing, it needs another level of line editing. If you agree and complete the edits, feel free to re-query this project.
Since it would have been dumb of me to not take this advice to heart, I immediately began editing. It's been 6 weeks, I've eliminated about 3000 words (I'm not going to lie, a large number of them were 'that'!) and am ready to re-query.
My question is, how do I go about this? Do I just send the query again with my edited material in place of the original? Do I tell the agent it's a re-submission? If so, in the body of the e-mail or the subject line? Also, do I need to rework my query letter itself or do I leave it as is?
All of my responses so far have been of the 'thanks, but no thanks' variety, so I'm kind of flying blind here. Any advice would be greatly appreciated.

I can see why you jumped on this with all four feet.  It must have felt like finding a storm celler in a tornado to get that reply.

I've sent replies like that VERY infrequently.  The number one thing that messes up your second chance? Replying too soon.

Six weeks is BARELY enough time.  Another line edit doesn't mean just paring out those extra words, but that's a good start.

It means letting the manuscript sit for a month. (I can hear you wailing from here when I say that) THEN going back and reading it out loud, very slowly and making sure every single word is the right word and in the right place.

Once you've done that, you're ready to requery.

Here's how you do that:

Subject line: requery per your email of (date agent replied to you)

Dear Agent Stormy Celler:

Thanks for offering me the chance to requery after a line edit for my novel TORNADO TANGO. I've completed the line edit.  Here's the original query with the revised pages.

QUERY

FIRST 3-5 REVISED pages (or whatever Agent Storym Celler) asks for.


Please please please do not let impatience get the better of you.  It's the number two query killer.  The first is plain bad writing so you're ahead of the crowd. Don't blow your chance here. 

Query Question: I'm popular, can I tell you?

If other agencies requested and/or are reading your manuscript, should you say or add this in your query letter to other agents? Does this make them pay more attention since there's interest? Or is the opposite true?

You mention it only if the agent requests the full, AND asks if anyone else is reading.
You do not mention it at the query stage.

Query Question: intra-agency referral

Is it unreasonable to expect intra-agency referrals when one agent rejects a query or passes on a partial or full MS but thinks an associate may be interested? I believe that the rejecting agent would not be burdened with much extra time, and could possibly earn valuable extra credit points for a comfy (rumored) afterlife existence. 

Yes.
It's not reasonable to expect anything other than a reply to a query. Anything else is a bonus.

Very rarely will I reply to a query with "Agent X here at FPLM might be a better fit." When I do, it's NOT a referral, it's a redirection. Agent X handles dinosaur porn, I do not. I have not read your pages of dinosuar porn, and even if I had, I have no way to judge their merit.

And what you think is not "extra much time" isn't. Inevitably there is a back and forth with Agent X so s/he can know how much I've read, and if there are any special circumstances ie it's my mom querying the dinosaur porn so X has to be polite etc.

And I'm not depending on earning afterlife points in my query queue. I earn those when I negotiate contracts.

Query Question: freshness dates on pub credits

Can I use that time I was published in the local paper in 3rd grade as a publishing credit now? I entertained the idea, because it put a smile on my face and almost made me laugh aloud. However, the more I explored the "yes" and "no" to this question...the less sure I became. I mean, I was in the third grade 11 years ago. Some authors, I'd imagine, reference their credits that are older than that. Surely that wasn't their best work and they've grown since then. Perhaps not comparatively to the degree of a child, but still.

No.
Pub credits are works that have been published by someone who chose your submission from a competitive field and generally speaking offered you a contract for publication.

Publishing anything by a third grader in the local newspaper is considered cute, not competitive.

If you put that in a query letter and I discovered it was something you wrote when you ten years old, I'd stop taking you seriously.

Don't reach for pub credits you don't have. If you don't have them, you don't. I've signed and sold a LOT of writers who had zilch on their resume other than "I want to be a published writer" and were smart enough not to say "I've been writing since I could hold a pen" or "I've wanted to be a writer from when I was in kindegarten."

A query letter is a business communication. Don't do anything that makes you look silly unless you are writing the next Captain Underpants.

The short list just got longer

I have a list of ways to guarantee your query will be rejected the instant I see it.

I'm pretty clear about the list. I even post it here on the sidebar.

I haven't added to it in a while; it's not in my best interest to be rigid crazy about query letters. Honest to Helvetica, you don't even see "spell my name right" on this list. I can live with "Read" "Reade" "Reid" "Reed" and "snookums" if I have to.

But as of tonight I've absolutely fucking HAD IT with people who query me and feel obliged to include some sort of comment about those dreadful books being published today.

If the reason for this is not clear let me spell it out: it's insulting.



So, the short list is updated.

Why You get Form Letters

QUERY:

Hi-ho Agent Reid:

Insincere boilerplate introduction modeled off of internet form letters segueing into the pitch for my new novel, The Madness of Method, which goes a little sumthin' like this…

No one wants to be ordinary. Least of all those who feel they're wallowing in it. And outside of a father whose death revealed a brother he didn't know he had, Hamilton Brownstone is about as dull as they come. He's not particularly educated. His mother and roommate annoy him. He works at a disco-themed lunch counter selling hot dogs. I know; hot stuff.

But he's out to change all of that.

Inspired by his intensive readings of about the author blurbs, Hamilton has decided to make himself interesting by becoming a writer. And to do so, he's modeling the process of method acting, trying to live the life of other writers whose blurbs he admires each day to channel their creativity, since he's fairly bereft of it on his own. And after several intense months of method writing, he is nearly finished with the glorious first paragraph of his revisionist historical epic, Avenging Zombie Jesus.

But even that kind of runaway success isn't enough to break him out of his funk fast enough. His mother is pressuring him to give up hot dogs as a career. His boss is pressuring him to start taking them seriously and trying to force an unwanted promotion. The pressure is on, and Hamilton's "work" is being neglected.

So, Hamilton comes to the only possible conclusion in his position: he must get himself arrested and finish his novel from the comfort of prison, since it worked so well for O'Henry. And of course, Hitler.

To aid him, Hamilton enlists the help of the only two people he trusts: the inspiration for his method writing, his actor girlfriend Tabitha, who is on a quest of personal growth and is trying to remain in character all hours of all days, and his half-brother Gardner, who won $30 million in the lottery on his 18th birthday, and has spent the subsequent time applying for minimum wage jobs to amuse himself and annoy his stepfather.

For most people, it shouldn't be that hard to get arrested. But between Hamilton's insistence that his arrest be an orderly affair with literary merit, Gardner's reckless attempts to hit rock bottom, Tabitha's attempts to keep anyone from being hurt, and a majority opinion that Jesus is far more likely to be a vampire than a zombie, things don't go smoothly. And when Hamilton is finally arrested for unpaid parking tickets, he finds jail somewhat different than he imagined.

At its core, The Madness of Method is about the collision of artistic ambition and delusion, religious nincompoopery, and the politics of fractured families. And I like to think it makes with the ha-ha something fierce.

My writing credentials include: 5 years of professional feature journalism, fiction publications in The Portland Review, Ooligan Press's Irreverant Fish, 34th Parallel, Caveat Lector, Alchemy Lit Mag, Mercury Quarterly, and Pathos Lit Mag, as well as a sold-out run of my self-published collection of short stories Secrets and Lies, and dramatic productions of three of my plays through Portland Oregon based community theatre troupes.

The full 48,131-word manuscript is available any time you like.

Thanks for your time, and I look forward to your reply.


(redacted)

--
In parting, I offer you this...

Carry a lazer down the roads that you must travel;
Carry a lazer through the darkness of the night.

RESPONSE

Dear Writer (redacted)

Insincere form rejection carefully constructed to not convey "what the fuck" segueing into a comment about your new novel, The Madness of Method, a 48,131-word manuscript.

This is writer porn. I see it a lot. Books about writers, writer rejection, disgusting and evil literary agents (although you avoided that one, I'm not sure why) even when done with an elegant literay tone, is still writer porn. Books about writers aren't my cup of tea. Other agents may have different drinking choices.

Also, 48,131 is a tad short. Like 20,000 words. I've sold books with fewer words (one of them is in the sig line below) but I've also dropped anvils from Acme on my head and I'm not doing that again either.

Your companion in jest,

J


HIS REPLY

No Agent Reid, my letter was jest, commenting on the barrage of insincere letters you agents sift through every day, and writers hate to write. Having spent most of the last year doing little but writing cover letters, and the last three years reading my share of them, it's a subject I'm somewhat familiar with. And so far agents and publishers have referred to my letters as refreshingly honest. One lit-mag even published my letter alongside a short story. You may be an important person, and I may just be a c-grade Larry Flynt, but don't try to fool yourself into thinking there was anything resembling jest in your response. It was just plain mean. Small-town cop mean. But I suppose that's agent porn. We all need a little bit of it here and there.

Well, ok, back to "not right for me"

If you want something else, you've got this guy to thank for the next couple weeks at least.

Thanks, Dick

Ms Reid:

While searching for a literary agent to whom I could submit a query letter, I came across your entry in my "2007 Novel & Short Story Writer's Market" handbook .

And I have to tell you, it gave me a chuckle.

On your "How to Send Work" page under "MAIL:" you wrote:

"DO include an SASE. We prefer you send a #10 business envelope with a first class stamp and that we recycle your manuscript."

"and that we recyle your manuscript" makes no sense in this sentence (to me).

You also wrote:
"DO proof read and spell check carefully. We expect you to care about your craft.
Sloppy proofreading is a danger sign."

Shouldn't "proof read" be "proofread" ?

And then you wrote:
"...we suggest attending a writers' conferences to help you... "

"a" is singular. "writers' conferences" is plural.

Just trying to be helpful!
Dick Seymour

Of course you are, and thank goodness.

I will immediately rush right out and have all the copies of this 2007 edition of the book recalled; insist they be burned (preferably at the stake to prevent any kind of further contamination); and, have new, corrected copies hand delivered to everyone who was so damaged by these clearly sloppy, egregious, and intentional errors for which I am personally and only responsible. 2008 and 2009 editions are of course exempt, but I know you want to use the old reliable 2007 edition.

Thank you so much for making me aware of this. I've made sure to note your email address and name so I can take instant action on all further communication from you.

Yours most gratefully,
(oh wait, should that really be you r s most?)

Tuesday Night at the Question Emporium

I'm always hearing other writers advise not reading unpublished manuscripts for legal reasons. I always just assumed published writers gave out that excuse to avoid a billion wannabes from inundating them with unpublishable dreck. Is there any truth behind the advice?

I tell my clients they are forbidden upon pain of death to read unpublished, un-contracted, un-agented unknown work. If necessary I type out a little card they can carry in their wallet:

My agent Janet Reid at FinePrint Lit
forbids me to read manuscripts.
I'm more afraid of her than I am of you,
so please forgive me for not agreeing to read this.

Then I make them practice saying it out loud. Some of my clients (how this happened I do not know) are very nice, kind, helpful people and the idea of not being kind and helpful requires practice and the very real fear of that bodily harm thing.

There are a couple reasons I do this.

First, the people who step over the boundaries of common courtesy and common sense by thrusting manuscripts at you without asking, or in public places, are just the kind of people who don't understand how publishing works, and don't have all their synapses firing in the right order. In other words, just exactly the kind of person who can become a problem. My clients don't need that.

Second, I've heard directly from authors whom I don't represent that they've had very unfortunate litigation threats from people who believe the author "stole" their idea. My clients don't need that either.

Third, it's always easier to have someone else to blame. My authors don't need to alienate potential readers, no matter how nutso or crazy, by saying "no I don't wanna." Thus I ask them to blame me. I get blamed for everything else anyway, I'm used to it.

Generally I think it's a bad bad bad idea to read feral manuscripts. By feral I mean those not domesticated enough to attend a writing conference, a critique group, a writing contest, or a college class.

So, repeat after me:

My agent told me if I read this,
she'd kill me.

I believe her.

I'm very sorry,
but feel free to take it up with her.
Her email is Janet @ yougottabekiddingme.com