We all know about The Querying Trenches, don’t we? The anticipation, the rejection, the silence, the hope, and the stomping-on of that hope. It’s a marathon, it’s a boxing match, it’s a survival camp. We know the statistics, too; every time we press send on a query, we know that getting any response at all is a long shot.
And yet, we keep going.
We believe in our stories enough that we are willing to endure what comes our way. Against all odds, despite moments of doubt, we believe in ourselves. It’s that confidence that lights a fire under us and pushes us to endure and eventually, to succeed.
But it can also get in the way.
Confidence can make us rush. It can produce sloppy work. It can make us ignore or misinterpret feedback. And it can upset us when things don’t go as smoothly as we think they ought to.
I learned all that the hard way.
If you read my first newsletter, you already know that I made plenty of mistakes on my way to my first book deal. Here, I’ve bundled what I’ve learned about querying into four jagged little pills. Painful to swallow maybe, but these are the things I wish someone would have told me ten years ago.
YOU AREN’T SPECIAL
My 3rd grade teacher told me I should be a writer when I grew up. Her little off-the-cuff comment went right to my head and set up camp. Being a ‘good writer’ became a big part of my personality. I majored in creative writing in college. I had poems published in literary magazines, papers in academic presses. I graduated from my art history master’s program with honors on my thesis, then went on to write and edit many art reviews and essays.
I thought selling a novel would be the same—maybe not easy, but easy for me. This shard of glass was so embedded under my skin, I still believed it my second time around—after my first novel didn’t sell, when I was preparing to dig myself a new trench.
I knew there were problems with my manuscript—dropped threads, filler chapters, low stakes—but I had been working on it for a long time and I was feeling old and anxious to level up. I went big, querying some of the top agents in the business, and hey, look—I got requests! I flung out my full manuscript, patting myself on the back.
I was going to get away with it.
Then the rejections started rolling in. I backtracked, tinkered with the manuscript, patching over plot holes and straightening out timelines. More requests, still no offers.
This was the spring of 2021, and I chanced upon an interview with the new-ish agent
on the Manuscript Wish List podcast. I perked up immediately. CeCe wanted novels like WHITE IVY and WHO IS MAUD DIXON?, both of which I’d been using as comps. I listened to the interview three times, then followed her on Twitter, and saw she was also on another podcast, The Shit No One Tells You About Writing. She liked stories with morally ambiguous characters, books that take on taboo subjects—everything I was into—and she wanted to burn down the patriarchy. Big yes.This was it. I sent my query. A week later, I got a full request.
CeCe got back to me about a month after that. Subject line: Invitation to Revise and Resubmit. What she told me in that first email would forever change the way I write:
You pitched this as a literary thriller and right now it’s very literary (beautifully, perfectly so!) but it’s not quite a thriller (in my opinion, ofc). I would urge you to weave in thriller-esque elements, to UP the stakes and tension, and to make sure the plot is building to a twisty climax, as opposed to plateauing.
CeCe’s email was like being sprayed with cold water. I was awake now. I was paying attention. Because she was right. I had been pushing away the elements of a thriller because I thought they would come across as too gimmicky, or obvious, or basic. Instead, I was hyper-focused on my line-level writing (aka doing what I was already good at). But by skirting around the thrill, I was holding my story back from what it wanted to be. I was holding myself back from being the writer I wanted to be.
I got to work right away, ripping apart my draft and teasing out storylines I’d only been hinting at. No more hedging. No more patching over problems. I went all in. I found brilliant writing partners who understood me and tackled plot problems with me. I took my time.
Four and a half months later, I sent CeCe the revised draft.
Two and a half weeks after that, we set up The Call.
YOU AREN’T SPECIAL… YET
Taking a cue from that same 3rd grade teacher, I want to talk about the power of yet.
It doesn't matter if you are trying to draw a triangle or sell a manuscript, there is power in adding that little word to the end of the things you tell yourself.
Doesn’t the phrase I haven’t sold my book sound so much better when you add yet to the end?
You say yet and you give yourself the time you need. You give yourself room to learn, the space to get it right. Because, as we all know, there are no shortcuts.
Look—it works with everything!
I haven’t gotten an agent yet.
I haven’t finished my manuscript yet.
I’m not good at editing myself yet.
IF IT’S TOO EASY, YOU’RE DOING IT WRONG
Everyone knows that you should not query after a first draft, right? So why do people still do it? If we can’t expect to get it right the first time, or even the second or the fourth, why do we get so itchy? Why does it feel like a race?
In my last newsletter, I told you the story of my first manuscript: I coughed-up 88K words, slapped on a title, queried an agent, got an offer, and accepted right away. We went out on sub with 1 beta reader and very little editing.
It bombed.
I know now that there are things called ‘spaghetti agents,’ who send out a lot of manuscripts to editors and hope something sticks. I am not sure my first agent was one of those, exactly – she was with a reputable agency, there was nothing predatory about her, and she didn’t blast my draft to every editor in town – but racing to the finish line with something like a novel should always be a red flag.
I know no one wants to hear this, but slow down.
If your query isn’t getting requests, STOP. Put it away for a few days (or weeks), and come back to it with fresh eyes. Get feedback from people you trust. Start over.
If you’re getting requests but no offers, there is (don’t hate me) probably a problem with the manuscript. STOP. Put it away for a few weeks (or months), and come back to it with fresh eyes. If you’re honest with yourself, there’s a good chance you will see the problems without help.
If you really can’t, find better beta readers. Seek out other writers who are not afraid to hurt your feelings. You need people who are better at this than you.
Thank you to my best and first readers, the geniuses
, Francesca King, and Melissa Elliotte. And listen, I know I got lucky with CeCe. She was able to see my potential just as I was obscuring it. Thank you, CeCe, I am forever in your debt.THERE IS ALWAYS A LITTLE TOOTHPASTE LEFT IN THE TUBE
Every time you get a rejection, you will feel a little sick. A little empty. You might want to give up. But you shouldn’t, and here’s why:
I had a writing teacher (Hi, Maureen!) who, on a day when I was struggling to write the next chapter of my first manuscript, told me: “You know when you go to brush your teeth and your toothpaste tube is empty? You have to squeeze and squeeze, but you always manage to get just enough out? Finishing a novel is like that. You have to work at it, but there is always a little toothpaste left in the tube.”
It’s the same for querying. You will have to dig deep. You will have to work hard. But you have enough inside you to get it done.
If you have any questions or comments about my takeaways (or anything else!) please leave them below—or better yet, join me and CeCe at 12pm EST TODAY for my first ever Instagram live!
Til then, keep squeezing.
Laura
This is exactly what I needed today. After nearly seven years of writing my first book (started as memoir, blew it all up into fiction), I've found myself in the toothpaste phase (such a great analogy) a gazillion times. After some recent tough feedback querying (I def cried), I'm in it again now! My problem is that I feel like I need to squeeze that toothpaste out as fast as possible. I have this driving internalized pressure that's like "this book is timely! it needs to be read NOW!" but that's stupid. That's my ego. I need to take a beat, slow town, perhaps finally be a person who "goes for a walk," ha. There's a great book called On Writing and Failure by Stephen Marche that I just read. Really recommend it for anyone who is trying to publish a book. He basically yells at you the whole time by saying "X wildly famous writer was rejected 88098234012409 times, why do you think it would be different for you?" It's great tough love. And he's hilarious, which always helps. We all need humor while going through this.
Love this! I’m slowing down and embracing the power of “yet” in my own life (as I write from the query trenches!) Thank you for sharing your journey!