Hello, writers. Hope you’ve had a scribbly week.
My agent search is over. I want to talk about it a little bit for the benefit of anyone contemplating a similar step.
First, some stats:
# of queries I sent: 28, all via email
# of form rejections to query: 2
# of non-form rejections to query: 2
# of agents who responded by asking what happened to my last agent: 1
# of agents requesting manuscript: 5
# of rejections after requesting manuscript: 3
# of offers of representation: 1
No response at all to query: 18
(One of the 5 who requested the manuscript did so after I had already accepted my lone offer, that's why the #'s don't add up)
It’s the last number that’s really interesting, though: 18 nonresponses.
That, and the total time elapsed –two weeks from the day I sent the first query to the day an agent called me and said “let’s do it”—are both big changes since the last time I undertook an agent search. Many (most?) agents don’t send rejections anymore. They just ignore you if they’re not interested.
And more and more, the responses when they come at all are speedy. The days of the months-of-waiting may be over. (In the agent search. Not in the publisher search.)
I know Sirenus hates rules ;-), but here were a few rules I followed in my search:
1. No blogging agents! (Ask me why?)
2. Since I was shopping a middle grade fantasy, I queried only agents who rep middle grade fantasy. (Crazy, but it worked.)
3. Queried the agents of authors whose books I genuinely liked—and praised said books in my query. (You can find this info at www.querytracker.net, but doublecheck it.)
4. Googled each agent—read interviews, articles, etc. (Crossed off those who sounded insufferable.)
5. Went to the agent’s webpage to see what exactly they wanted in a query letter. (Roughly half wanted an email letter followed by five pasted-in pages. Properly formatted. One wanted the full manuscript included with the query—I crossed him off my list.)
Anyway. Hope all that’s helpful to somebody. If you have any questions about agent-searching I’d be happy to try to answer if I can manage to load comments, and hopefully others might as well. For resources on where to find reputable agents to query, please see
last week's Write On.
So my nice new agent says that the second half of my manuscript lacks a ticking clock. I like that term; it's useful. And it's a useful way to add suspense-- to a scene, to a story, to a whole novel.
A ticking clock is simply a thing that's going to happen if your character doesn't get the job done in time. A bomb is going to blow up in the basement of the high school, the bad guys are going to come up the stairs and find him, the mortgage will be foreclosed on, the diptheria epidemic will wipe out the village.
The important characteristic of a ticking clock is that it's not just a danger, it's also a time limit. Once the bad guys reach the top of the stairs (and you can hear their footsteps on the landing now), once the timer gets down to zero, once the virus mutates, it's all over.
Tonight's challenge is to insert a ticking clock into the scene below.
We're in the same setting as last week: the deserted cottage on the windswept hilltop. If you wrote a scene last week, use the scene you wrote, but add a ticking clock to it.
If you didn't write a scene last week: Two characters have just arrived
there, Bob and Hilda. They rented the cottage for a week's vacation, via craigslist. They sent a check to a guy and he mailed them a key and told them all would be in readiness when they arrived. They're still outside, and they're approaching the door. But they can hear someone (or something) inside. There wasn't supposed to be anyone here to meet them.
So, they're not quite sure what to do... AND... add a ticking clock.
Write On! will be a
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Never, ever sign anything
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