The Query Zone and Hard Things (and what makes them Possible)

So when you’re a writer and you’re in the Query Zone, you have these REALLY HARD things[1] to do, which are not in any particular order, because this is MY blog and I can do things out of order if I so desire. And I do.

1. Put yourself and your story out there. I know it’s supposed to be different, you vs. your story. But guys. I’m one of the weak ones. I find it difficult to separate myself from my words, when it comes right down to it. Love me, love my book, right? So if you don’t even want to see it, I cry. (See #2, below.) But the Really Hard Thing to do is to be bold. Do it. Expose your book, or else how is Magic Agent going to know it’s the Book of Dreams? Things that make this possible: Beta readers, critique partners, agentQuery.com, and queryTracker.com. Also Blue Bunny ice cream and a great deal of buttered popcorn.

2. Not cry. Remember “What About Bob?” I do. I love Bob. “I just treat them like a phone call. Bad connection? Hang up and try again.” It is a Really Hard Thing to take rejection gracefully. But we can do it. We can. We can even send a very short “Thanks Anyway” email, if we’re so inclined. We can breathe in and out. All day long. Things that make this possible: Lindt Excellence “touch of sea salt” Dark Chocolate Bars. And I don’t usually even like chocolate. Also a hot bath or a few episodes of White Collar. (Also, one “yes” goes a long way toward making me graceful about several “no”s, but that’s not really within my control.)

3. Write the cursed Query. Yup. Really Hard Thing. What? you say. It’s a PAGE long. Just write it, already. Yeah, okay, I answer you. But it’s the ONE PAGE that an agent will see and then say, “Holy cow. That is the most charming writer / fabulous story in the history of charming writers and fabulous stories. I must, must adore everything that person ever writes.” So there’s that tiny expectation of brilliance at the beginning. Also, there’s the conflicting advice. One agent says “This is a business letter.” Another says, “This is not a business letter.” One says, “Make me laugh.” Another says “Gimmicks are the death of your query.” (The only non-conflicting advice seems to be “Spell my name correctly, if you please.”) But we can write the letter. Things that make this possible: Remember you’ve already written the book. That should help a bit. Also, agentQuery.com has archives of query letters, along with “formulas” and success stories. And Chuck @ Writer’s Digest has this ongoing “Successful Queries” segment, where every couple of months he posts a (you guessed it, didn’t you?) successful query. Agents sometimes post good queries on their blogs. So go steal some good ideas. And then make them yours. And then ask people who read books to look at the letter. Would they want to read the story from your hook? Like that. Go get ’em.

4. Tailor said query. Because agents are human (oh, yes they are), they’ll want different things. So it’s not a very good idea to create and send a totally bland, generic query. You sort of have to tweak it to each one’s needs, personality, and current wishes. Have you met him? Say so. Does she rep someone you read/love/know? Say so. Has she recently given an interview wherein she announced that what she’s REALLY looking for is a post-apocalyptic zombie mermaid story told in verse? And that’s just what you have, right there on your laptop? Mention it. The research alone for such tweaking can take FOREVER. Okay, not forever, but hours a day. Hours. And then there’s the actual rewriting. That is a Really Hard Thing. Things that make this possible: Hello, computers? Just let yourself imagine doing all this junk longhand. Smile about your privileges. Carry on. Also, if you’ve done #3, you have a solid basis. Just sand it, paint it, and tie a little bow on it. Or something.

5. Add a synopsis, sometimes. And that’s what we’re talking about today, my friends. (Oh, did you think I’d already done plenty of talking? Pardon.) Several of the agents I’ve contacted request a synopsis. According to most sources, this is a 500-1000-word document (3rd person, present tense) that Tells Your Story. Remember all that business about Show vs Tell? You have shown. That’s your book. Now tell. Sounds easy, right?

*chirp*

It was hard. I found myself starting paragraphs, deleting them, saying unladylike words, starting more paragraphs. Repeat. And repeat. So here’s what I finally did that worked for me. And it’s not rocket science, but it’s a beginning. Take it or leave it, as always. The thing that made this possible: In short phrases, I wrote what someone did. NOT what happened. There’s a difference, because you only have 500-1000 words, so you don’t want to go into all the psychology, the history, the backstory. What someone did. Like this: Verb direct object.

I made a list. Maybe you’re one of those character-laden people who outlines. Of so, you win at this part. Just copy stuff from your outline. (Another reason it might be good to learn to outline. I’ll take it under consideration. Maybe.) My list was about 18-20 sentence fragments that told (with an active verb) what someone did. If I saw the words “realized” “understood” or “learned” creeping into my list, I deleted them. That’s not an action.

Let’s do one.

Walks in woods
Sneaks into house
Eats porridge
Sits in chair
Breaks everything
Sleeps in bed
Wakes to Bears
Runs away

When my real list (not this super-classy one) took me from beginning to end of story, I made each sentence fragment a paragraph, or combined a few into one. Then, when all the verb/direct object fragments became paragraphs, I whittled down what was too wordy and plumped up what needed more detail to be understood. As you can tell from my list above, I didn’t list everything that happened in the story. I didn’t list every character’s viewpoint. I can fatten up some of those things in the paragraphs, but just enough to give the gist. Now that you’ve stunned them with your storytelling prowess, they’ll be once again stunned, upon reading your manuscript, that you can also WRITE. Which, as we all know, is not the same thing. Also, a synopsis, most websites will tell you, is not a movie trailer. Tell how the book ends. If this goes against your grain, too bad. Agents who ask for synopses want spoilers.

If the writing the synopsis part seems too much work, maybe you’re not ready to query. Did that sound harsh? It was meant to, kind of. Because, yes, “finishing” your novel is the end of your work.

Want to know which end?

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[1] assuming you’ve already done the Really Hard Thing of, you know, writing a fabulous book