Showing posts with label query letters. Show all posts
Showing posts with label query letters. Show all posts

Tuesday, February 28, 2012

Rejected manuscripts, query letters, resumes: A response

Note: Vin Suprynowicz is the critically acclaimed author of several works as well as a nationally syndicated columnist. (I read him on the Las Vegas Review-Journal website.)

When Vin tried to leave a comment pursuant to my post about whether it’s okay to query more than one literary agent at a time, Blogger rejected it as too long. “AFTER I GET DONE, your robot tells me I've exceeded the 4,076 character limit,” he wrote in an email. “Is that 600 words? I write 1,200 words while I'm waiting for the teakettle toboil.”

To this introduction I add that Vin said what I wish I’d have been astute and brave enough to write.

  The old model, pretty dysfunctional for half a century anyway, is collapsing before our eyes.
The unspoken assumptions are: 1) I need a big-time New York publisher because only that person/outfit has the money and expertise to publish my book in attractive, professional form, get it professionally reviewed and get it into bookstores. Therefore, 2) Because hardly any publishers will still look at an unsolicited manuscript, I need a New York literary agent to open the gates to one of those publishers.

But read the final page of Richard Russell's 2006 "Book collector's Price Guide." He reports the effect of the calcification of publishing into the hands of a few green-eyeshade houses is "to freeze the state of literature and writing in general, keeping it within the bounds of the type of writing that has a 'winning track record.'" As a result, "Books published in the last decade in the United States will, over time, become worthless and fit only for the dollar bins. ..."

He's right. The shelves and tables are now full of ill-written derivative potboilers, shoddily bound. Anything new and refreshing tends to come from "outside the system," often in small press runs, 500 copies run off as a lark by some science fiction club or a socialist bookstore in the Haight or the Minnesota chapter of the Baker Street Irregulars.

Agents are told to "Go find me someone who can write just like ..." James Patterson, John Grisham, Alice Walker, whoever. They don't expect to find these people in the slush pile. You'd be FAR more likely to attract an agent's attention if you said you could prove you'd had a homosexual affair with Mitt Romney, "but I can barely write a grocery list; can you find me a ghost writer?"

THAT they know how to pitch.

And they pretend to serve at the altar of "literature"?

I once had a New York agent (actually signed a contract, the works) who's since written a book about "how to write a best-seller." All he ever did was ask me with great urgency whether I could "crank out a fictionalized biography of David Bowie in six weeks." By the time I got him an outline, five weeks later, he'd moved on to some other scheme, based on a different lunch with some other impresario.

The "rule" against multiple inquiries is for the convenience of agents and publishers, who pretend they're still a gentleman's club editing Scott Fitzgerald with pencils and sleeve garters and rubber cement, and thus further pretend to be outraged over the implication that they should get in a quick bid for your services, rather than watching you grovel at their feet for a month or two before moving on to woo their equally unattainable cousin in the next block. They act as though they're Scarlett O'Hara and you've just announced you intend to propose to the 40 prettiest girls in town, announcing you'll marry the first one who says "Yes." 

It's not a courtship; it's a business. (If it's a courtship, send flowers and ask if they prefer the missionary position.)

Why send out what amount to 40 form letters, a month apart over three years, when you can mail them all the same week?

Either way, 3 to 7 percent will reject you with a form letter, the rest will never reply at all. And I say this as someone who's made my living exclusively as a writer for 40 years, all of my books printed at professional binderies, all produced with private investment capital, with not a penny of the proceeds owed to any German banker pretending to be a publisher nor to any Sarah Lawrence graduate pretending to be a "literary agent."

The Internet is destroying their distribution monopoly; the rest of their haughty house of cards will collapse soon.

The expensive collectibles of tomorrow, Mr. Russell concludes, will be unusual, innovative books "subsidy published" in small press runs today ... the same way Poe subsidized the first printing of "Tamerlaine," the same way John Grisham subsidized the first publication of "A Time to Kill" by Wynwood Press in 1989.(Current value of a nice single copy: $4,000.)

And today's academics and "publishing professionals," far from being on the lookout for the new and the good, will reject it out of hand, Russell concludes, realizing that "a 'new' novel makes their years of knowledge, study and expertise obsolete."
-- V.S. 

Wednesday, February 15, 2012

Rejected manuscripts, query letters, resumes

A few posts back, I posted a copy of an email from an emerging author who asked why an agent query should be so different from a resume submission.

To get a job, he noted, he would send resumes to as many contacts as possible. Why then should he be cautioned to send only one query letter at a time.

No one has answered his question as yet.

Should he obey the rule? (Who set that rule anyway?)

She he throw that caution to the proverbial wind and hit every potential agent with a query?

I don't know.

Do you?

Meanwhile, to make him feel less discouraged if and when he starts receiving rejections (or getting no responses at all), I sent him to this website.

I hope it made him smile and gave him hope.

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Thursday, January 19, 2012

Query letters versus resumes

Here's a copy of an email message I received from an aspiring best-selling author, a man who has written his first novel.
Tell me why applying for representation from an agent is any different from applying for a job. For a job you send out 20 or 30 resumes, and with one or more replies you complete the applications and go for the interviews. Whoever picks you first, well, usually you take the first job that comes along.
 

Tell me why a literary agent is any different; you send out 20 or 30 query letters and whoever comes along first you jump on it.
I know I'm naive, but what else is new.
Can anyone tell me how to answer that?

Also, I know the stock answer; but in this day and age, when snagging an agent, yet alone a publisher, is getting harder and harder, should we play by their rules?

Monday, January 3, 2011

I made a cartoon video of my last post

This site is a hoot. It lets you make a video ... free at first but you can dress the videos up if you register and pay a fee. I edited it three times and ran out of free publishing minutes so the final product is in the can but not ready for release.

Take a look.

Tuesday, December 21, 2010

The new era of publishing

I’ve been reading a lot of blogs about publishing lately. Based on what I’ve seen, it isn’t much of a stretch to realize that writers are leaning toward the ebook version of their potential best sellers rather than jumping through the almost impossible hoops of writing snappy query letters and synopses (I had to use a dictionary to find the plural of synopsis, by the way.), finding an agent and hooking up with a publisher. It seems there’s a plethora of complaints that even if (I should put that word in upper case.) a writer manages to hit the target in all three areas, he or she still has to do a ton of self-promotion to get the darned finished product in the hands of the important people – the readers.

I think there’s still a place for printed books. While they might not be as handy as the kindle versions, they’re still nice to take to bed with you, or pull from the bookcase and flip the pages to look for and remember favorite passages, to enjoy the cover art, to collect, even to enhance the décor of your rooms.

But, unless I’m being totally deceived (and I don’t think I am), the same self-promotion you need to publicize your work will mean a lot more money in your pocket and in the end, that’s the result that can make you a full-time, self-supporting author.

Tuesday, December 14, 2010

7 tips for writing a book review

A good book review should either convince your reader to read or not to read. Whether a person makes one decision or another depends on two elements: how well you compose the review and how likely your reader agrees with your focus.

A well-written review includes, of course, the book title and author name, probably the publisher, the price and the ISBN. (These can appear as separate text before the actual review begins.) The actual review (we’re thinking in terms of novels here) includes a summary of the plot (without revealing the conclusion, of course), and a synopsis of the characters and a discussion about how the author writes. (He uses too many big words; her characters are underdeveloped; he introduces characters and/or scenes then drops them with no further explanation; she describes scenery and geography vividly.) All these points are based on both fact and opinion because in the end, the entire review is opinion based, and should be cited by example.

Approach your review the same way you would approach any writing, with purpose and professionalism.

Here are seven hints for writing good book review. They’re not all inclusive but they are a good jumping off point, a good framework that you can embellish with your own style.
  • Include the title, author, ISBN, publisher and price.
  • Summarize the book with a vivid description of the plot, characters and background (Think of this as a query letter, one you would submit to an agent or publisher if you had written the book.
  • Cover points about the book you liked. (Author X draws you into the plot with characters who could be your best friend, worst enemy, neighbor, teacher. Author Y doesn’t pull any punches when describing the brutal murders committed by his serial killer.)
  • Include your opinion. (The murder scene was too graphic for my taste. I wish the author had given more background on the leading character’s mother.)
  • Don’t just state; describe. (Tell the reader why you think the murder scene was too graphic; explain why the main character’s mother deserved more treatment.)
  • Summarize why your reader should buy the book. (It’s good enough to save and to savor again; read it then leave it at the airport for the next lucky person; buy it if you want to be put to sleep.)
  • Read other book reviews, preferably ones written by professional reviewers. (For an outstanding book and author review of check out Ken Bruen's Mysterious Matters blog post.)

You could also include other elements: Does the author know what he’s talking about? Did the author make you feel as if you were walking the back alleys of Paris? Did you feel the protagonist’s pain?

Don’t be afraid to criticize. You want your reader to rely on your review, to have confidence that your opinion counts.

If your goal is to become a published book reviewer, get a copy of the books featured here. Read them and review them. They’ll help get you from start to finish.

Tuesday, December 7, 2010

My best advice

  1. Check out the blogs I read, see what other writers have to say about writing. These folks offer a ton of advice and inspiration.
  2. Let a friend read the first dozen pages of your work to get a reaction. If they want to read more (and you’ll have to judge their sincerity), you’ll know you’re on the right track.
  3. Join a writer's group. I'm not a big fan of this recommendation so BEWARE. Find a group that will offer critiques of your work and offer your critiques. Stay away from a group that's just looking for pleasantries.
  4. Practice summarizing your work the way you’d like to see it featured in the publisher’s notes. If you can’t do it in 200 words or less, try again.
  5. Write a practice query letter. Convince an agent/publisher to take you on as a client.
  6. Keep writing.