Components of a Query Letter

This week, I’m talking about query letters. Not a coincidence, since Michell Plested posted our great discussion on query letters and submissions on Monday. Please go and take a listen if you have a chance.

First, before I get into the actual parts of the query letter, a note on formatting guidelines.

Formatting guidelines exist to help editors keep from going blind. They streamline the process, and make things easy on the eyes for people who are sitting and reading for 8, 12, or 16 hours a day, or more. They exist so that your manuscript can be handled in the most convenient and efficient way by a particular handler, and forwarded on most conveniently within that organization, and that’s why they vary from place to place.

Specific formatting rules (like what to put in the subject line or on the outside of the envelope, for instance) may also exist partly to show a particular place whether you’ve read their particular guidelines or not.

You should definitely follow the guidelines as they’re presented to you, even if it means reformatting every time you submit someplace new. Helping editors not go blind is important, and showing someone you want to work with that you’re able to follow instructions is also important.

However, and I know this is easier said than done, you should not stress yourself out about it. Being one point short of perfect compliance, unless it’s a major point like forgetting to include contact information, is probably not going to hurt your chances. A good manuscript isn’t likely to be disqualified over a minor problem on the query letter checklist. As long as you’re professional and use common sense, you’ll probably be fine.

That professional tone is important too. The query letter is the cover letter to your resume. In addition to getting people interested in your manuscript, it’s also your chance to prove that you’re not high-maintenance, pushy, delusional, or insane. You think I’m kidding, but I’m not.

If no guidelines exist on a particular point, like font size or number of spaces after a period, don’t sweat it. It means that it doesn’t matter to that particular editor.

Don’t try to make it gimmicky, shiny or eye-catching. Focus on making a pitch and a manuscript that can stand out from the rest even in the same boring typeface and format. You’ll get more positive attention from following the rules than from breaking them. When I see a nicely formatted, low-maintenance manuscript, I breathe a sigh of relief.

So. That said, on to the letter itself.

Your query letter is, for all useful purposes, just like the cover letter you send with your resume when you’re applying for a job. It should be professional, it should be courteous, and it should contain the standard pieces of information that the person reading it is going to be looking for, with no fancy tricks, fillers, or unnecessary information.

Essential information

The first things I look for in a query letter:

• Title
• Word count
• Genre
• Name and contact information

Before you present what your story is about, I want to know how many words I’m getting and what genre to expect. I don’t want to have to wade through multiple chapters — or even multiple paragraphs — to first discover if the manuscript is even going to be a fit. Don’t bother trying to tell me why it’s a good fit. You don’t need to. Show me the word count and the genre, tell me what it’s about, and I’ll be able to tell for myself.

I also don’t want to have to dig for your name and e-mail address. Sometimes things get forwarded and, for whatever reason, the original “sent by” address in the header doesn’t make it along for the ride. Put it in the body of the mail, just to be safe.

Also, please, PLEASE make sure that the contact information you give, WORKS. Even worse than a rejection: when a publisher is interested in seeing more and can’t get in touch with you.

Don’t just send a link to your website and tell me to check out your work there — or, worse, tell me that I have to subscribe to your website in order to see it. Show that you’re serious enough to take the time to write a real query.

Phrases I never want to see in a query

“I know this isn’t the sort of thing you publish, but…”
and
“I know you’re closed to unsolicited submissions, but…”

I’m going to do a separate post next Monday that touches on what not to do, but this one deserves a special mention right up front. There’s nothing professional about contacting a stranger with the expectation that they’ll bend their rules for you. Sending your query along anyway is one thing. Pointing out in your query that you know you shouldn’t be sending your query is another. You may intend it as an apology to smooth your way, but what you’re actually saying is, “Hi. I read your policies, and then I knowingly and willfully disregarded them. Don’t you want to work with me now?” That’s probably not the kind of first impression you want to make.

Speaking of making a good first impression…

Bad spelling / grammar / punctuation in a query is a BIG turn-off. Everyone makes a typo now and then, especially when they’re nervous. But if the errors are glaring enough that it’s clear to me that you couldn’t take the time to spellcheck and read over your cover letter:

• you’re not serious enough about writing to be published. Or
• you just don’t see that those errors are even there, in which case I can predict that your manuscript will be in the same state. That’s a lot of extra work for me.

The parts of the query letter

A professional, courteous greeting. There may be bonus points for addressing it to the right person, but leaving it neutral is always better than getting it wrong.

An intro paragraph with those essential elements I mentioned above, and your elevator pitch. (More on the elevator pitch, below.)

A paragraph with a longer synopsis. A synopsis is always in third person, present tense, regardless of the perspective of the actual manuscript. It should be just as gripping as the smaller pitch, but this time give a slightly broader picture. And include the ending. Part of knowing whether you have a good, solid story is knowing how you resolve it. Don’t hold the ending ‘hostage’ and make a publisher request your manuscript to see how it all works out. They won’t. Synopsis length and depth is another topic all its own, but it’s handled very well by author Anne Mini over several in-depth posts on her blog. An especially useful post might be the one on constructing 1- 3- and 5-page synopses, but you’ll want to look at the whole series.

A brief paragraph about your published or otherwise relevant credits, if appropriate. If not, just leave it out. If you’re published, give us titles and publishers. You don’t need to mention if you’ve never been published before. You don’t need to mention if you like to read, what your hobbies are, or what your educational and professional background is, unless they’re relevant to the manuscript you’re submitting. If you’ve got a computer science degree and you’re working in IT and your manuscript is high fantasy, it’s not relevant. If you’ve been in the Navy and you live full-time on a boat and your manuscript is a nautical adventure, then that background is relevant. If you’ve been to writing workshops, that may be more relevant than your college degree. A degree in English does not a fiction writer make; it won’t impress anyone, by itself. Solid writing and connections to bestselling authors who might write cover blurbs for you… that’s not going to be enough to get you a contract, but it’s very good for a publisher to know.

A professional closing with your name and contact information.

And that’s it.

Elevator pitch?

An elevator pitch stems from the idea that you have only the length of time that someone’s on an elevator with you, to get them hooked and wanting more. The sort of pitch you’d use as a back cover blurb: it should be a couple of brief, concise sentences that capture the central conflict and raise questions that I want to read the answers to. Think of it as the five second movie trailer.

Just because you’re being professional, don’t think you have to be bland and boring on this. The whole point of this letter, from your perspective, is these few sentences. It’s the only chance you have to hook your recipient. Make it intriguing, make it count, and don’t load it down with detail.

A well-crafted elevator pitch at a conference will hook me into requesting a submission. In a query, it’ll hook me into requesting a manuscript. Properly honed, refined and streamlined, it’s worth its weight in gold.

Hang on to this pitch. You’ll need to expand it into your back cover blurb, you’ll need to refine it into promotional material if you want your book mentioned on a website or listed in a catalog, and you’ll need it for… well, for selling copies to people you meet on elevators. Seriously. I have also seen published authors make plenty of spur-of-the-moment sales with just a backpack full of books and a solid elevator pitch.

That’s it?

That’s it… Except that it’s not.

Paring it down to the basic components like this leaves a lot of questions unanswered. Questions like, “What do publishers mean when they say ‘Don’t try to impress us’?” and “How long should I wait before sending a polite follow-up?” are important, too.

Stay tuned: I’ll address those questions and more, on Monday.