TranScript:

Welcome to Write Wrong the podcast that talks about writing from the point of view of someone who’s been doing it wrong for far too long. I’m Cortney Hamilton and today we’re going to talk about 

Writing Queries, or a professional approach to the question: who wants to help me make money off my writing? 

2021 has been a big year so far. We got a new President, an awesome Vice President, suppressed an insurrection of our government, and I survived COVID, lost my sense of smell, and well, isn’t that enough for the first few weeks. I mean, really, do we have to rush through it? 2020 barely existed. It’s like we were put into a tube, cryogenically frozen for a year except we were sleepless with anxiety the whole time, abdicated power to our children, and discovered that crying while eating gets easier the more you do it. When I say ‘last year’ to people, in my head I’m still thinking 2019. I mean, I just finished the first season of The Umbrella Academy.

So here’s my tip for this episode:

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Because I did have COVID and sat alone in the same room for ten days, I learned a lot about myself. Mainly, that my Netflix queue is more goal-oriented than practical and that navels aren’t the only body crevice that collect lint. 

But one thing I did learn was my tip today: pace yourself. Literally. Pacing back and forth not only relieved the building anxiety of being stuck in a 10x10 room for a week, it also helped to remind me I don’t ever want to go to prison. Plus, it allowed all the benefits of exercise without the burden of figuring out where I was going. Because when you pace the answer to the question ‘Where are you going?’ is always the same. Wall. Wall. Wall. Wall. But what’s more, going back and forth fueled my imagination and got my creative juices flowing. Of course, having COVID, I then fell to bed in exhaustion and slept for ten hours. But if I’d had the energy beyond breathing, I’d have gotten those juices off the bed and into the page where they belonged. Since my recovery, I’ve practiced pacing and have been pleased that it’s had the same effect. I definitely don’t want to go to prison. So, my tip today: if you’re ever stuck on a scene in your novel, pace yourself. Because it may seem like you’re doing nothing, but really you’re juicing up for an epiphany  

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Moving on: 

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A few months ago, I participated in Pitch Wars. If you don’t know what Pitch Wars is I highly recommend it and I’ll link to it in my show notes.  

Pitch Wars is a contest to pitch your novel to a group of editors, agents, and published authors hoping that they’ll mentor you for three months to revise your novel whereupon you pitch it to a group of awaiting agents. It’s free and the mentors donate their time and effort to get your book in its best shape. 

Also, like an arena of gladiators or cutting in line to get a limited supply of a disease-resistant vaccine, it’s highly competitive. In order to enter, you must submit your first chapter, a synopsis, and a query. Two of which are a requirement if you ever want to get an agent or a publisher to give you the time of day. 

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So, I’m going to talk about queries today because queries are like the baby brother you didn’t want: never as fun as you hoped, but can be groomed to do your bidding. 

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Also, if you want an agent you’ll have to write a query. But I hear some of you out there, “I’m self-published, Hamilton. I don’t need no query. I’m turning this episode off.” And I say to you, woahwoahwoah. Don’t do anything harsh. You’re probably right, but you should still write one. And I’ll tell you why. 

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Now, you’re savvy. You already know what a query is. But those that don’t, well let me define it: 

—A query is an implement of torture that is used to pummel a ninety-thousand-word book into a two-hundred-fifty word pitch. 

No, wait. That’s not really fair. Let me try again. 

—A query is a pitch of your novel that scrapes away all subtlety and nuance and turns it into a desiccated exoskeleton clinging to the tree trunk of plot. 

Okay, that’s not quite it either. 

—A query is like cake batter sprinkled with shards of glass that you—

Okay, you know, let me just stick to the basics. Take 4. Click. 

A query is a letter you send to agents or publishers to entice them to read your book. Think of it like that bag of Reese’s Pieces in E.T. You’re Elliot luring the mysterious and strange being (the agent) to your home with your candy, which is your story. And if you want them to come out of the toolshed, then you should give them just enough to make them trust you and ask for the whole bag. 

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Now, I got an agent with a query for my first novel, which is really the only thing I’ve written that’s had any measure of success. But I’ve since revised my novel. And while my old query was probably close enough to still work, I knew I could do better for Pitch Wars. Because, as the old adage goes, close enough only counts in jazz, horseshoes, and dry humping. 

And when I revised my query something clicked for me. And I realized the secret about queries. Story is supreme. I know, I hear you, “Well, duh, Hamilton. That’s like saying water is life-giving or babies are just megalomaniacs swaddled in a Tigger blankie.” 

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But I’m slow, and it takes me longer to realize obvious things like food can never have too much flavor. Or spring allergies are really just plants ejaculating into your sinuses.

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So, I’ve learned a few tips in writing a query. A few shoulds, a few shouldn’ts, a couple of don’tyaworryabouts, and one or two youmightconsiders that I need to think about when writing a query. 

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Let’s start with Shoulds. 

As I’ve mentioned before, I’m not one to should on myself. But I have found occasions where it comes in handy. Like not doing shots of tequila around my ex or skipping over the Queen section in a Karaoke songbook. And also when it comes to querying. So with that in mind…

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Should Number 1. Adhere to the query form. 

Queries are pretty simple in form. Introduction. Body. Closing. They’re around three hundred words or one page, and that includes your bio. 

Now, I know we all like to think that we’re different. We’re the exception to the rules. We don’t have to follow this format. But this kind of thinking got us Vanilla Ice and Cop Rock. And if you don’t know Cop Rock, look it up. I have a link in my show notes and it’s both bizarre and magnificent.  

Now, let me break down the query format a little bit more:

Introduction: Your intro should address the specific agent, give the title of your book, and usually genre. Include word count as well. This should all be in the first paragraph. I’d also recommend including a hook for your book in this paragraph. One or two sentences that say, “Keep reading. Because it’s going to get good!”  

Body: Here you introduce the story. That’s two to three characters (less is more), the plot (what happens to them), and the stakes. You need all three of these in this part. Character, plot, stakes. Writing a query without stakes is like dressing to meet the Queen of England in a mankini. Yes, it covers the basics, but everyone still wonders “why?” 

Stakes mean choice and are like a game of “Would you rather” for your character. Neither choice is good, both choices mean sacrifice, and the more relatable the sacrifice the more captivating the premise. 

Also, think of the body of the query like you’re telling a friend about a book that you love, but they really want you to speed it up and get to the gist because they got to retweet a meme of two cats looking at rain through a window. So you can’t tell the whole story. You can only tell the beginning and the choice your protagonist has to make to get an agent to want to read it. 

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Final paragraph: This is where you include comp titles, thank the agent and talk about published works you have. If you haven’t published don’t mention it.  

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Should number 2. Short and sweet, two words you’ll never hear used to describe a root canal. 

This is the hardest part of writing a query. We all know, enticing a reader of a 90,000 word novel with three hundred words is both absurd and farcical. But, that’s what we have to do. And we can do it. It is possible. And I know you’re still thinking, ‘But I’m special. My story is so good that the agent won’t care if my query is a little bit longer.’ The good news is that you’re right. You are special. The bad news is: it’s only around your mom or your four-year-old.   

And unless your four-year-old is an agent, I suggest you reconsider. 

Agents have to read hundreds of queries a week, sifting through their never-ending inbox to find the one query that sparkles like a diamond in the cheesy mass of smegma that makes up all the other queries that think they’re special too. Being concise means being considerate of an agent’s time.  

It also allows you to highlight the most important parts of your book, get to the point, and get out. 

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Should number 3. Be formal, but with a sprinkling of personalization

Address the agent by their last name, for instance, Mr. Or Mrs. Harris. Don’t use only first names and never, ever, ever write “Dear Agent.” Agents are actual people with feelings and families and secret donut habits. They just want to be acknowledged with the consideration you’d give any normal human being that you’re trying to impress. 

So be professional with them.

No first names only. No playful informality like ‘hi friend’ or ‘hey there.’ If you don’t know the gender of an agent, google it, if you still don’t know, address them by their full first and last name. And don’t shorten their name. If their agent page lists them as Kimberly, don’t write Kim. A Daniel is not a Dan until he says, “Call me Dan.” And as a side note, despite my website, if I introduce myself as Cortney don’t call me Cort until I know and like you. When people start out calling me Cort, I correct them and say, “That’s Mr. Hamilton…Lord and Savior.” 

And again, addressing with a “Dear Agent” will automatically get your query tossed into the trash.  

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Should number 4. Be humble. 

If you’re anything like me, you know your novel will be loved and adored by millions if you only get a publishing house to buy it. But reality says: probably not. Don’t get caught up in grandiose statements like “This is the next Hunger Games but with lasers” or “This is just like Moby Dick but with lasers.” When you compare yourself to a famous author the agent knows that you’re 110% full of it. Don’t do it even as a joke. Agents don’t know you or your personality. They won’t know you’re joking. Besides, reading and laughing go together like fire and cocktails, in the right hands they can be exquisite. But when most of us try, we just burn our nose hairs off. 

Take it from me, people rarely laugh when reading, at least they never laugh in the right places and definitely not when I’m staring at them, thinking “How come they’re not laughing? They’ve had to have read the funny parts by now. They should be laughing. They don’t know comedy. Give me that back.”    

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And finally, 

Should number 5. Write your query horribly and often.  

Writing the query sucks. It’s hard. It’s annoying. And if you’re doing it right, you’re sucking over and over and over again. When you first start don’t judge yourself. Just get the story down. It could be a thousand words or longer. It’s fine. After that, start honing it down, carving it into excellence. Like Michaelangelo chipping away at David, if David needed to be whittled to just a head that’s only a centimeter tall in order to impress a stranger who may or may not want to represent him. You won’t get there all in one try. It’ll take a while. Write it. Revise it. Give it to people to read. Fix it. Give it to more people. Fix it. And then, you know, etc. Etc.   

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Now, like dark and light, up and down, sugar and lemon water, bullies who hate themselves, there are some obvious should nots that complement the shoulds.

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1. You should not be gimmicky

I love rhymes. I love Dr. Seuss. But there are certain instances where rhyming just isn’t appropriate. For example: “Got your results back. The data does not lack. Thank God, you’re not a dancer. I’m afraid it’s stage three—” Okay, you get the idea. Despite our dreams and fantasies, literature is a business, it’s professional, millions of dollars pass to and fro in the book industry. So be professional and avoid gimmicks. Other examples are: including pictures of yourself cosplaying as your character. Using different colored fonts, or writing the query from your character’s point of view. Don’t do this. It’s not a good idea. Agents see it all the time and not only is it confusing for them, it comes off as a mental health concern. 

You know what? You’re great. Just be yourself.  

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2. You should not give away the ending. 

Remember Reese’s Pieces. If Elliot threw the whole bag of candy in the toolshed, E.T. would’ve stayed in there, groaning with a stomach ache, and the scary hazmat grown-ups would’ve burst in, grabbed E.T., and Elliot would’ve been like “why are all the flowers dead?” and then credits. You need to entice an agent to want to read what happens. So just include the first act and the stakes. No ending. 

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3. You should not misspell. 

I know. Duh. And it’s embarrassing. But do you know how many misspell “it’s embarrassing?” I mean, apostrophe or no? Two r’s and two s’s? Are you sure? The query is three-hundred words. If you can’t write three-hundred words without misspelling, then the agent won’t believe you can do it in a ninety-thousand-word novel. So triple-check for typos. And make sure you’ve spelled the agent’s name correctly.

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Okay, as I’ve learned from my grandmother and the cops, the should nots can go on endlessly. But I’ll stop here and move on to the: 

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Don’t ya worry abouts:

1. Don’t worry that you’re not published. 

If you’re like me, you want to be published. And ideally, rich and beautiful and referred to as Lord and Savior. But some of us have to accept reality. Fortunately, most agents are mainly interested in our inner beauty, the substantive core that defines our character, the talent and pure essence of our light that better make it onto the page and translate into earning them some serious Benjamins.   

If you have a good story and you pitch it well in the query, agents won’t care if you’re published or not. But it helps, so if you have published make sure you mention it. Except when: what you’ve written is only in your local paper or high school yearbook. Or your writing is published in places that don’t speak to what you’re submitting to them. For example, if you’ve published an article in Commode Weekly but have written a thriller that’s not commode-oriented, it’s unlikely an agent will care.  

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2. Don’t worry about your social media presence.

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I know, we all want more followers. Follow me. Like me. Look at me. Leave a review. Please, god, would someone who doesn’t know me personally leave a review. And as someone with two hundred Twitter followers, let me confidently and guilelessly tell you that having five thousand Twitter followers doesn’t mean as much as it did in 2011. Don’t get me wrong, it can show you’re engaging with an audience. But it could also show that 4960 people have muted you. If you aren’t active on any social media outlets, then just end your query by thanking the agent.  

3. Don’t worry about Age

We live in a world of ageism. The older you get the wiser you get the more people strain-smile while glancing at their Apple watch through your job interview. But fortunately, queries are still a faceless, photoless inscribed correspondence. So don’t worry about your age. You’re not too young. You’re not too old. You’re the exact right age for the story you’ve written. The agent won’t know your age when they read your query. And if they like your query and look you up on the internet, they’ll be far more turned off by the video of you allegedly setting fire to your ex’s car. “That’s not me, by the way, I just have one of those faces.”  

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4. Don’t worry about your book title. 

A decent book title can help your query. Especially, if it encapsulates the tone of the book. But if you don’t have a good one don’t worry about it. More often than not, the title will change before it gets published.

Even The Sound and the Fury by William Faulkner was originally going to be titled Twilight, which as you know, according to the inverse laws of the multiverse, means Stephanie Meyer would’ve had to settle for the title: Permanent Acne: A Teen Vampire Love Story.

Now, there are some things you might consider when writing your query: 

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1. Read your query out loud. 

Not only will this help you get the right tone, it will also show you that you need to remove the apostrophe from the word “it’s.” 

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2. Genre

This one should probably go into the ‘shoulds’ category.

Now, I know earlier I said that story is supreme. But genre is supremer. Story will only interest an agent if you put it in the correct genre. What is the correct genre? The one the agent is interested in pitching to a publisher.  

Now, naming a genre is easy when you’ve written, say, a thriller or romance. But when you haven’t, it’s an unfortunate burden on creativity that demonizes your story and labels it in what agents like to call “unmarketable.” Not to be confused with “good.”   

If your novel is in a genre like horror or mystery or crime drama, then kudos to you. That’s half the battle. But if it is, agents want you to know your genre well. So research what other books are selling or have sold in that genre. That way when you say your book is similar to another book that’s already successful, the agent will be more interested. Comparing your book to another is called a comp title and a lot of agents require them in a query. 

Now, most agents say that those comp titles should be published in the last three years. Any older, then you’re just clinging to a long-forgotten past that no one even cares about anymore. Get UTD, Gramps.  

Now if your book doesn’t fall into a particular genre, it’s likely genre-curious and flirts with other genres that will hopefully snuggle up to it. Genre-curious novels can take an aspect of a popular book that’s similar to yours and use that as a comparison. For example, tone. Sure, my book stars a band of circus clowns with eyes that shoot lasers, but tonally it is like Moby Dick. Now, of course, that’s just one awesome example. As I mentioned, your comp title should be more recent, less iconic, and not so Melvilley.  

Also, if you are having trouble claiming a genre look at the time-frame of your novel. Is it present-day? You have a contemporary fiction. Set in the 1970s? Historical fiction. These are generic genres and you’ll need comp titles for support, but at least you can put down something. 

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3. You might Consider your Length

They say length doesn’t matter. But if that were true, then you wouldn’t look at the bottom corner of a YouTube video before clicking on it. 

Like knowing your genre, you should know the typical length of your genre. Thrillers are usually around 90,000 words. Fantasy typically a 100,000 to 120,00. Romance, 65,000-80,000. In general, 80-90,000 words is a sweet spot. But, the point is, if you’re submitting a YA novel that’s 150,000 words then you’re telling the agent you don’t know your genre, you’re too verbose, and they’ll need to do more busy work on your book. And only chumps do more busywork. I ought to know. 

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4. You might consider Triggers

Now, I don’t have to tell you that few people like to get a third of the way into a novel and suddenly and abruptly read a rape scene. But for everyone else out there, I should probably mention it. 

Unfortunately, in life, some things exist that repulse us at our very core. Rape, animal abuse, racial violence, neglecting to use the Oxford comma.  

You might have other triggers that are even more personal to you. Like self-harm or cannibalism. One of mine is any story that has the death of a rat. It’s very specific and personal and I don’t want to be a Cassandra, but I would caution you to never name a small pet “snack.” No matter how cute it sounds. 

Agents will have their own triggers and if they’re an issue they’ll state them on their web page. But if you’ve included the dilemma and what’s at stake for your protagonist, the triggers will probably be apparent in your query. If your triggers aren’t obvious you might give a heads up to an agent by mentioning it in the final paragraph. But definitely find out if the agent is sensitive to the trigger. Which brings me to…

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5. You might consider doing research on the agents you’re querying. 

This really should be a should. I should’ve put this in shoulds. Why didn’t I put this in shoulds? I guess I didn’t want you to think I was so shouldy at the beginning of the episode. But now you know.    

Fellow writers, stalking people is wrong unless it benefits both parties, which I call “professional stalking.”

When you take the time to research the agent you’re querying, then you can personalize the query and they’ll like you all the more for it. Hunt down interviews with them. Look up their Twitter feed. See what they like in books, in TV shows, in life. Who knows? You might have a character with the same name as their kitten Sancho Pawnza. 

Now, the key to professional stalking is stalking while taking into consideration the feelings and boundaries of your stalkee. While stalking only for your benefit is creepy and illegal. So don’t get too personal. There’s a fine line here and it’s best to be reserved in your stalking. Think of it like salt. You don’t want too much. You just want the right amount. What’s the right amount? The amount that doesn’t creep out the agent, get your query tossed, and you named in a restraining order.  

Finding the right agent is like looking for a relationship. And as your married friends who’ve been through therapy and annoy you by not shutting up about it can attest, relationships are hard work. This is for the long haul. When your agent likes you and you like them, then you’ll enjoy getting to know each other, discovering each other’s quirks, suffering each other’s quirks, badmouthing them behind their back but only because they’re making you do something you should be doing anyway, and sometimes, maybe, after multiple emails that culminate in a long, awkward talk, wondering if you should see other agents. But that will only allow you to realize that this is a relationship. And just ask Brad and Janet, successful relationships are hard work. 

So putting in the research now, allows you to be ahead of this game that I like to call “scraping enough income together to do what you love and quit your day job.”   

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Finally, I’d like to address those who are self-publishing. Who don’t need agents or even publishers and so, seemingly, have no need for a query letter.

My friends, I know that writing a query letter to an agent you don’t want or need can seem like buying a DVD of YouTube videos to learn VCR maintenance. 

But, I want you to consider that honing your book down to a 300-word plot allows distance from a novel that consumes nearly every waking moment of your life. Many times, even yesterday, I’ve written a query only to realize that my stakes weren’t high enough, that my dilemma was too cliche, or that the name of my protagonist started with the same letter as every other character in the book. 

Plus if you do write one, you don’t have to worry about doing the agent research, or following guidelines, or submitting and constantly checking your inbox to not hear back from twenty, fifty, or even a hundred agents. No. You get to self-publish before you bear the crushing and constant disappointment of being ignored by complete strangers on a weekly basis. 

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More important though, writing a query helps you to write the book jacket. Because that’s essentially what the query is, the blurb we read on book jackets. And we all know no one but lunatics pick up a book, or scroll on Amazon, look at the title and say, I don’t know what this “Twilight” book is about but it’s exactly what I’m looking for.

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Oh, and for those of you following along, despite working every day for a week and a half on my query, I didn’t make the cut for Pitch Wars. But my query is better for trying.  

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That’s it for today. Man, that was way longer than I expected it to be. And I barely scratched the surface on queries. So check my show notes for links from far better and more skillful literary attachés on my website Cortwrites.com. That’s C-O-R-T writes.com Where I post links that are educational but also fun and interesting and when you click on them are designed to clean your brain of all worries and pain. Or maybe just make you laugh. 

And please leave a review on iTunes. Because while I don’t need validation to continue on, I also don’t need a chocolate chip cookie, but when I get one, even a bad one, I at least feel the motivation to keep going. Plus, if you do, then Apple promises to stop changing the face recognition settings on my iPad so I can finally unlock it and play Minecraft again.  

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Writing a query takes a lot of time and work and patience. And it can suck the life right out of you. You’ll be rejected seventy-nine times but that eightieth will be the one. So my quote today is from Thomas Alva Edison, a man who, yeah, sure invented the light bulb, but also invented creepy talking dolls. He said:

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“Many of life’s failures are people who did not realize how close they were to success when they gave up.” 

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Thanks, Tommy. If that’s not some sort of Mobius strip of inspiration then I don’t know what a Mobius strip is.    

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So, don’t give up, my friends. Keep querying and keep writing. Write like you’re saving a baby from a burning car. Because that baby is your novel. And that car is time.