Query Letters--and Bad Breath

It's been a while since I've posted, but I've been busy writing--which is what a writer does, okay? In between driving the stupid bus, I get very little free time, but this week I'm off (spring break) (what spring??).

Aside from working on my newest novel Were There's Blood, I've been working up my courage to send out Spell of the Black Unicorn--again. I've collected seven rejections, so far--those are from '07 & '06. Some of the rejections are just rejections. The best/nicest one as yet was from Jabberwocky. They said they were delighted to receive my query, and they gave it careful attention, but "alas . . . the query was not quit intriguing enough to inspire me to offer representation . . ." yada yada. I've been rejected I don't know how many times over the years. That one didn't sting quite as much as the usual "we're not interested" or the one stamped on my query letter, because I guess I don't merit an actual rejection letter: "I'm afraid your material doesn't suit our current needs and/or interests." Written below was that his client list was "quite full".

I doesn't really matter how nicely or poorly they reject you, you still feel like slitting your wrists, sticking your head in an oven, or watch carefully for the next biggest honking meteorite hurtling toward earth so as to get it all over with.

It hurts. Terribly. They know this, and I know they must. But it still hurts because you've put years into the work. I actually do five drafts before I'm finished and then I read it over maybe a dozen times--this doesn't count how many times a writer may change anything, which may be a few words to whole chapters--and you still want to change something every time you go through it. I don't know why. I put on the editor's cap, and I can't help but want to mess with things.

The hours I spend I try to spend them in the best way possible. I'd rather just write. I hate the business end, because--well, look at it this way. An artist--whether he makes music, or paints/draws/sculpts--wants to spend time doing what he/she does best and loves best. Who wants to spend hours trying to come up with a brilliant one-paged letter that will get the attention of an agent? Who does this? Only writers are expected to cram the whole idea of their 400-page (or more) novel into a few strong sentences which is supposed to give the agent head spins, or maybe an orgasm--I'm not quite sure which--and jump up and down excitedly and say, "Oh, my God! I have to get this author, she's just brilliant. I've never read a better query letter in all my life."

No artist, no musician has to go through all this crud in order to attract attention. Their art is either visual, or can be heard. With paintings, you look at it and you either like it or you don't. A musician, you listen and either their wonderful, or they stink. They just go on one of those shows on TV, and, if they loose, they've had a lot of exposure. Try doing that with a novel. Unless it's made into a visual media first, you haven't a chance, babe.

Writing is visual, and also time consuming to evaluate. That is why you send in only a query letter usually (or maybe a chapter or two), which I've still to come across the magical verbiage which will make an agent just jump right out of their seat and beg you to see the whole manuscript. You also get only one chance to make an impression.

So, that's where I am--again--since I'm just not going to go through the self-publishing thing. I think every one of them are scams, and they'll get money from you some how, and then it's up to you to go out and sell yourself. Not for me, thanks.

I sent one of my query letters off to an agent this week, and plan to send another one soon. This is like playing the lottery, folks. You know your dollar is gone the moment you hand it over. You know the odds, and yet you keep on playing. Boy, how stupid. I don't play the lottery, mainly because I'm already doing so with my writing.

The one big difference now, than back in '07--and before that--is that I can actually go to these agent's sites and see exactly how they want it sent. Some are pretty picky. The pickiest is--well, I'm not going to name anyone here, but they actually didn't want it in Times Roman, but in something else. Which would mean a person would have to go and change the font, and re-print it all. Fortunately, they didn't take the type of fiction I write. (Wiping my brow now.)

Another agent boasted they weren't as jaded or cynical as many hard core agents. Well, you know I beg to differ. If you're an agent, you almost have to be a little jaded or cynical, these days. It comes with the territory. Maybe they're not quite so cynical, but I know that I'll get a nice rejection, all the same. "Sorry, not for us" (you stupid clod).

Another agent says in the very first sentence that they are very anxious to see new work.

Okay. This is either a type-o, or they are very nervous about seeing new work. The right word should have been eager. Unless this is a test to see how many of us writers actually notice this, and you know many of us will. But how many of us will actually point this out to them? How do you do it without pissing them off? (Eh, yeah, uh, didn't you mean eager instead of anxious? You guys are a bunch of--)

One thing I hate is mind games in this, my chosen field.

Before I leave this, and post it, I want to add, I'd read an article in Writer's Digest written by an agent who had an assortment of examples of "bad" query letters. Some were pretty wild, and I could see why no one would even consider them, let alone send them anything but a rejection. But my favorite was from some writer who more or less sounded like me--things I'd only put into my personal journal, and no where else. They basically couldn't understand why, after having countless essays and poems published, they couldn't make money as a writer (I had to presume getting a book published, and my heart went out to them immediately). They asked if it was because of no contacts, or they didn't go to Harvard, or if they were too old. But the last line was a killer. I loved it. "Is it my breath?" they said.

(Yes, my dear, your breath is so bad, it was carried on the very piece of paper you sent through the mail.)

And then they asked, "Am I cursed?"

Well, of course you are! Just as I am. For some reason we writers have the writing bug, and the only thing that makes us happy is to write. We can happily sit and write and never let anyone but our friends and families see any of it, and never go through the pain, misery and self-abuse we go through with every rejection we get. This is our lot in life. But some of us just want to have recognition, and if it works out, you might have a nice little income for the rest of your life. Those are the lucky ones. The ones who some how, some way knew exactly how to word their query letters (and don't waste your money on books that tell you how to do it, I've got several of them, and they didn't work for me).

As I close this little chapter I want you to look at those happy, smiling faces of authors on the back of their books--they are the lucky ones. Just remember that, my bad-breathed friends.