The Seven Stages of Query Letter Grief

In preparation for World Fantasy 2014, I sat down to write a pitch, because YES two of my top ten agents are on the list of attendees and even though my book isn’t complete, I’m going to pitch the thing. Really, all I’m hoping for is a “add WFC2014 in the subject line of the email when you query me” to get me out of the main slush pile and into a much smaller slush pile. Anything beyond that will have me flipping my shit and finishing the book double time.

But to get to the streamlined elevator pitch, I had to start with the much longer yet somehow not long enough query letter.

I sat at my computer screen for like three hours and those three hours turned into a full day, then two days, and my screen held




Writing query letters really makes me feel like:

{not to be confused with constipated}

That face translated into words:

  • My book has no plot or conversely, it has too much plot and I just can’t weed out all the crap that isn’t important.
  • I don’t know my own story.
  • I’m going to throw my computer.
  • Maybe I could bribe my 7 year old to write my query for me.
  • Maybe he could write the story too.
  • I should never attempt to write again.
  • Blogging about how much I hate queries might help.


aka: the seven stages of query letter grief.

There was no happiness.

I have something that wants to be a query letter and is a million and a half words too long to ever be an elevator pitch. So I may have to use some sort of physical restraints on said agents while spewing forth my entire query. Or have an amazing hook that will make them stop and listen to everything that comes after.

I’ll let you know how it goes. Possibly from jail. But let’s hope not.

For now,

Happy reading. Happier writing.