Doing a bit of catch-up here…

I did a fun guest post for the Dead Robots Society, which can be found here.

It’s all about adding value to your query and succeeding in the slush pile.

Enjoy!

I didn’t receive many queries during the two weeks of open submissions, but I wasn’t expecting many. I only opened the gates to the listeners of the Podioracket interview I did on Blog Talk Radio, for one thing, and any announcement that doesn’t receive much publicity won’t get much of a response. And it was only a two-week period, with no advance notice — not enough time to prepare anything that wasn’t already ready to go. But that was fine with me.

I did receive about twenty submissions as a direct result of the interview. I’ve sent back all responses today, so if you haven’t heard from me, I haven’t received your query. I do have some requested full manuscripts still outstanding from December/January, and I ask for more patience with those. It’s been a traumatic couple of weeks for me and I’m still slowly getting my head back in the game.

I can guarantee, though, that my recent loss has in no way affected my decisions. I was careful to give myself extra time and to evaluate all submissions thoroughly and fairly.

For your perusal, because I know these are interesting, have some stats. Keep in mind that these stats had no bearing on Dragon Moon’s responses or decisions, they’re merely for interest. And they’re a little skewed by the small sample size.

Received: 20
Requested fulls: 2 (10%)

Fantasy submissions of any flavor: 16
Sci-fi submissions: 2
Horror submissions: 2

Submissions by gender: 50% male authors, 50% female authors
Submissions written under pen names: 3
Submissions with prologues: 1 (unusually low!)

Manuscripts written in the third person: 80%
Manuscripts written in the first person: 20%
Manuscripts written in past tense: 100%

Editors and agents reach a certain point in their slush-reading careers where a quick glance at a query will tell them whether it’s worth reading onward.

You start to learn a certain set of warning signs, over time. For example, you learn after reading lots and lots of submissions that a query letter riddled with spelling errors and misused punctuation will usually accompany a submission with the same sorts of problems, and will be indicative of a would-be author’s lack of attention to detail. Therefore, if you see a query letter that looks like it was typed in the dark, you can expect that the manuscript is going to require a lot of extra work.

I don’t decide on correlations like that arbitrarily. They’re observations I’ve made based on lots and lots of data points. And the more new data I receive, the more they’re continually supported.

Other editors and agents have written about the sorts of problems they see in manuscripts and queries, and their reasons for rejection. Look at the posts from:

Colleen Lindsay and Janet Reid at FinePrint Literary
Betsy Mitchell at Del Rey
Rachelle Gardner at WordServe Literary
Tor editor Teresa Nielsen Hayden (see especially #3), and
Jessica at BookEnds, just to name a few.
And I’ll even include my own post from Dragon Moon’s open submission period.

Really, read these posts. They’ll teach you a lot about what editors/agents see and why they reject what they reject.

The more I work with submissions, the more I’ve noticed that they filter down, mostly, into a very simple six-point system.

Ready? Here it is.

0 – “Ow, ow, my eyes!”

This speaks for itself. It’s the stuff that horror stories are made of. Spelling, punctuation and grammar so badly lacking that the text is just about indecipherable, or worse, a narrative or plot so seriously flawed on so many levels that indecipherable would be an improvement. This either gets a form rejection because there’s absolutely nothing appropriate that I can say, or it gets a gentle recommendation to work on writing skills.

1 – Sigh of disappointment.

Weak voice, weak writing skills, weak narrative, wooden characters, or weak/flawed plot. Heavy-handed, contrived, too slow to get moving, or just not well thought out. Not scary-bad, just not strong enough for publication.

2 – Eh.

Nothing stands out about these manuscripts at all. They’re not deeply flawed, but they’re unremarkable. Sometimes the plot has been done too many times before in the same way, sometimes the language is too bland. There’s no interesting voice, no particular style to it, and just nothing special that stands out about the characters, the plot or the writing to set it apart and make me want to know more. Submissions that just don’t fit our requirements (length, genre, target market age, etc.) go here, as well.

3 – Aw.

Now we get into the top three rankings. Most submissions will already have fallen by the wayside before this point. “Aw” manuscripts have potential — there’s some spark that sets them apart from the “Eh” manuscripts — but they don’t quite get there. I want to like it, I see the seed of something interesting in it, but the spark never quite catches. Maybe there’s a neat premise that just isn’t executed well, or an interesting plot twist that comes too late after a reader will already have lost interest. Or there’s a good voice and pleasant writing style, but the plot is deeply flawed in ways too complicated to be easily fixed. Basically, there’s something compelling about these, but whatever it is, it’s lost amidst other problems that overwhelm the strengths. “Aw” is disappointment. These are the ones that I want to love, but can’t.

4 – Ahhh.

Where “Aw” is disappointment, “Ahhh” is relief. It’s the sound I make when I start reading a manuscript with good, engaging writing, proper technique, an interesting premise and engaging characters. I’ll ask for a full on an “Ahhh,” to see where it’s going and determine whether it lives up to the promise that it shows. Sometimes it won’t, and it’ll get bumped down to an “Aw.” Often, though, it will.

5 – Oooh.

This doesn’t need an explanation, does it? “Oooh” manuscripts grab me on the first page and don’t let go. They have it all — engaging voice; a strong writing style that’s technically clean, polished and error-free; an immersive world and characters; and a premise and a plot that keep a reader turning pages. These are the submissions that I end up falling in love with. I request the full already knowing that, barring some unforeseen turn of events, I’m going to want to acquire it. These are rare, but they’re what I hope for every time I open a submission. I want to say “Oooh” and fall in love with every book.

Initial responses have now been sent on all the queries I received during the Dragon Moon Press open submissions period. If you have not received either a rejection or a request for a full manuscript, I did not receive your query. Make sure you check the address posted in the submission guidelines and try again.

For a relatively-unadvertised submission period during a month that’s usually hectic for everyone, the volume was encouraging without being overwhelming. It was a great experience and I’ll definitely be doing it again.

The useful stat breakdowns:

Full manuscripts were requested on just under 10% of submissions. Out of that 10%, I am making an offer to one (1) so far. (Yes, that one knows who they are.) I have not yet received or read all requested fulls.

About 25% of submissions did not comply with the posted submission guidelines, with deviations including (in order of frequency): submitting to the wrong address, lack of synopsis, lack of title (oops!), lack of sample pages and use of attachments.

No submissions were rejected for non-compliance. That is to say, I didn’t receive any queries that would have been accepted had they followed the guidelines more closely; the submissions that did not follow the guidelines had other issues which made them unsuitable.

Reasons for rejection, in descending order of frequency:

1. The writing simply wasn’t good enough – Mediocre writing or storytelling, wooden and uncompelling characters; consistently poor grammar and sentence structure, etc. Just not at a publishable level.

2. Major plot flaws too deep to change – The premise was deeply flawed, too predictable or overused without offering anything new or notable, wasn’t compelling, or went in a direction that I didn’t think worked.

3. Too slow to get started, or so heavy-handed at setting up a plot that it all just felt contrived and sloppy – These submissions had fifteen pages to get me hooked and make me care. If nothing happened in those first fifteen, I wasn’t interested enough to keep going, and a customer wouldn’t keep reading, either. There’s some overlap here with #1, but sometimes the story can still be flat and not go anywhere even if the quality of the writing is good.

4. Too similar to something already published. OR, used characters or worlds copyrighted or licensed to someone other than the author, or otherwise contained inherent rights issues – Don’t try to get your fanfic published, kids, unless you’re trying to get it published by whatever company officially licenses it.

5. Not a fit. Non-fiction, true crime, gratuitous torture, sexual torture, sexual slavery and gore, mainstream fiction, spy thrillers, mysteries, and bodice rippers.

6. Good, but not quite there yet. Show me the author’s next one.

The not-so-useful stat breakdowns:

(Trends that had no bearing on acceptance decisions, but are interesting to note)

* Genre breakdown:

54% fantasy / dark fantasy
26% urban fantasy
15% science fiction / speculative fiction
5% outside DMP’s range (non-fic, etc.)

* Gender breakdown: 40% female authors, 60% male.

* Manuscripts utilizing real historical figures as main or important characters: 5

* Manuscripts previously released as podcast fiction: 4

* Manuscripts that compared themselves to Twilight: 3

* Demons and angels were more popular than vampires by a margin of 4:1

* Manuscripts featuring gender-swapping or other body-swapping: 2

* Abrasive or insulting queries: 2

* Manuscripts with prologues: 20%

* Manuscripts submitted in languages other than English: 1

* Countries represented: 10 — a very respectable showing!

Thanks for participating, everyone, and keep writing.

This may sound a bit obvious, but when you send a query, please send it to the correct address as specified by a publisher’s submissions guidelines.

If a submissions address is listed for a publisher, whether it’s a physical address or an e-mail address, that’s the best address to which you can direct a submission. It’s what it’s there for.

I’m noticing a surprisingly common perception that goes something like, “If I send this to the editor at home, or send it to their personal e-mail address, I’ll cut corners and get in the back door and get my query noticed. That’ll get me off the slush pile and in ahead of everyone who sends to the ‘submissions’ address; it’s like cutting to the front of the line.” This is absolutely false, in this editor’s experience, and I strongly discourage it. Please, don’t even consider it.

Proper channels exist for a reason: to be followed. Every editor, agent, or publisher has a process in place, and it’s not a random thing — it’s the process or system that works best for them. Stepping outside those lines just makes their job harder, and in some cases can severely limit your chances.

If someone has work mail and home mail separate, it’s because they don’t want to see work mail while they’re at home. Sending it there isn’t going to get it answered any faster, it’ll just be an imposition on their personal time.

Speaking for my own experience: I work at home, so I don’t have office mail and home mail separate. My personal and professional e-mail all filters into the same mailbox. Searching out my “personal” email and directing a query to it, or sending me a Dragon Moon Press query through this blog, will not get your mail seen any faster than sending it to the proper address. I see mail directed to all my addresses with equal frequency and reliability.

So why does it matter?

Sending professional mail to a stranger’s personal, home address is an inappropriate intrusion on their personal space. If the professional address is posted and the personal address isn’t, that extra effort you took to track them down will show, and will make you look a little desperate and stalkery. That’s not the first impression you want to give. Even if I communicate with someone on a personal, friendly level first, if I then invite them to submit a query, I still ask them to submit to the submissions address so that the mail can be tagged and processed correctly.

Sending professional mail to a stranger’s personal, home address will reduce your message’s chances of being read. I expect my personal mail to be from people I know personally; everything else is usually spam, and is usually treated as such.

Incoming mail is tagged differently, based on where it’s incoming from. Submissions that get to me in the correct manner are tagged with a little green label in my inbox. It makes them stand out from the rest of the mail and I instantly know, before even reading the subject line, what they probably are. That label helps me to handle submissions more efficiently and alerts me to do all the things that I need to do to process them. Without it, I might still see them, but even if I do, they’ll be harder to find again. They’re more likely to fall through the cracks.

Ultimately, it’s important to remember that publishing, while it can feel informal and blur the lines at times, is a business. Publishers, editors, and agents are professionals. Correspond with the same professionalism you would display to any other business contact, and you’ll be more likely to receive prompt, professional attention in return.