novel

Query Tracker: Hating rejection, but admiring Agents who ask questions …

If you’re a querying author, you must know about Query Tracker or else you have no idea what you’re doing. It’s a helpful author resource for writers to query agents representing their genres and easily keeps track of to whom you’ve submitted, and also archives who’s rejected you, and who’s requested material, and whether you’ve received an offer of representation or publication. Publishers (mostly smaller, independent ones) also use it.

That’s the love part. Not long ago, writers either emailed their material (and some agents still require this; it’s made clear on their profiles) or snail-mailed their queries with a SASE. One of QT’s popular features is a form many agents use, allowing authors to enter all pertinent information and requested materials (synopsis, first chapter, query letter).

Then there’s the hate part. The rejections. If you’re an author who’s been through the query trenches, you understand rejection comes with the territory. Those agents who use the QT form tend to reply, and mostly use form rejections that are emailed to you with QueryTracker in the subject line. And whenever I see that in my inbox, I get this sense of doom. Why? Because I know it’s a rejection. I’m going by experience here. And I’m not complaining. This is the business I have chosen. You simply delete and move on because the agent’s already done that with you. That’s the harsh reality because most reputable (and disreputable) agents receive hundreds if not thousands of queries a month.

But you must do it. I received a material request from an agent I found on QT, but it didn’t work out. So, there can be a positive outcome, if not the desired one

Some agents ask for the bare basics: Name, email, Book Info, Query, and sample material.

Other agents pose several questions for the author to answer (some are optional). That was my experience with an agent I queried recently. I was asked: How long have I been a writer? What’s my biggest strength as a writer? What’s my biggest weakness as a writer? What genres do I plan to write in the future? What inspired me to write my manuscript? What is my favorite part of the story? Why do I feel this agent is the right fit for me?

Personally, I love the agents who ask these questions (not many do, and this agent asked by far the most). Some authors might be put off by this, like, why does the agent need all this info? What’s the point?

Those authors are idiots. Does answering them require more thought and time? Yes! But I found that answering them made me think about why I started doing this in the first place and got me to reflect on my good and bad experiences in the publishing industry. Never has an agent asked me about my favorite part of the story, and it got me thinking. I answered honestly and enjoyed it because I remembered writing the dialogue and laughing along the way! And most importantly, putting in the time and effort to answer all the questions made me believe in my work even more. Corny as that sounds, it’s true.

I hope the agents who ask these questions read all the answers before rendering judgment because writers personalize themselves more if they take the questions seriously, and give an agent a clearer picture of the querying writer.

In the end, do I think the agent will ask for more material? My gut tells me no simply because it’s been my experience. I’m a grim realist, and I attribute this to living in New Jersey.

But whatever the case, I’m glad I was asked, and if answering those questions can help tip the scales, by all means answer them!

Be professional, take the time, think about what you’re typing, and don’t cut and paste generic answers you might have concocted for simplicity’s sake!

In the end, you can and will get your book published. Be it traditionally, indie-trad, or full indie yourself. The journey might have bumps along the way. Learn from them. And keep moving.

Reading Stephen King’s Carrie 40 years later

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The problem (if one can call it that) with reading Stephen King’s first published novel, Carrie, 40 years after it originally published in 1974 is you know what happens. The bloody parts, anyway.

Carrie White, an introverted, sheltered teenage girl genetically gifted with telekinetic powers, has her first menstrual period (not realizing what it is at the age of 16) in a high school shower stall and falls prey to her classmates’ ruthless bullying. When Carrie isn’t being tormented by her peers in Maine, she’s mentally victimized at home by her religious fanatic of a mother, Margaret White, who currently polls first among Maine Tea Party candidates who are vying for an open state Senate seat.

SPOILER ALERT: Wait! I’m sorry, I think the two preceding sentences might have divulged important details to someone who hasn’t read the book and who now is saying, “Oh, man! Why’d he go and write that?” And if that’s the case, where the hell have you been for the past 40 years? Seriously, you didn’t have any inkling of an idea about Carrie’s travails? You didn’t, like me, see bits and pieces of the original movie adaptation starring Sissy Spacek as Carrie? Really? Now, I don’t recall seeing the movie straight through, but I remember the classmates setting Carrie up as the
high school prom queen, only to have Vinnie Barbarino dump a bucket of pig’s blood on her to humiliate her, and then blood-soaked Carrie flashes open her eyes, locks down the school with her telekinesis, sets the building ablaze, and essentially commits one of the first mass murders in
an American high school without bringing a gun. Anyone who’s nearing 40 and doesn’t know that is probably pulling the lever for Margaret White.

So, if you already know what happens in Carrie because of the movie (and the one that came out last year), why bother reading King’s first book?

Because it’s always nice to see how the greats started their careers, to read King’s work, knowing it was written at a point in his life when he was living paycheck to paycheck, hoping to be able to make a living that could support his family.

Now, I wasn’t expecting King to write the book in third-person narration interrupted by scientific journals discussing the Carrie White phenomenon, or witness testimonials to the Carrie White Commission, or novel excerpts published by surviving classmates. Had I not already known what happened at the high school, the way King teases up to it, I would know Carrie’s responsible for something awful that laid waste to many people. But what? And we know it must be bad. Commissions aren’t typically convened to discuss why ice cream tastes yummy.

Thinking back, King was in his early 20s, not far removed from his high school days, a time when we all either witness bullying or are victimized by it. So the material was brutally fresh in his mind. Now, Carrie isn’t “boo!” scary, nor is it gory. King spills blood with purpose, never in irrelevant excess. Carrie’s disturbing because of what we all witnessed in high school. We identify with the characters (sometimes wishing we didn’t). It’s not unusual for impressionable teens desiring to smite their enemies, but rarely do they act on it in ways that grab headlines. King delves into Carrie’s mind and her classmates’, and we get the creeps because the warning signs were there, but ignored. A teacher laments that she didn’t try to help Carrie sooner. No doubt the same has been said for the murderers of school children we’ve read about for far too long.

Carrie’s a sad book more than anything–a sad but great introduction by a novelist who knew what he was doing way back when. And for the record, I couldn’t have read Carrie when it was released. I was a year away from birth. And, fortunately, telekinesis skipped over me.