Tag Archive: query trenches


I spent a very long time anticipating the day when I’d be able to use this header. And, of course, then I wrote it three days too late. But hey, time is a flat circle, right? (In my defense, I’ve been doing a lot of celebrating, and even more editing and rewriting.)

My awesome new agent is Brandy Vallance of Barbara Bova Literary Agency. (The same agency that brought us “Ender’s Game” – wooo!) Brandy is an author-turned-agent, an expert in the craft of writing, and the best advocate and supporter an author could ever ask for. Together, we shall find the perfect home for “The Patron Saint of Unforgivable Mistakes.” (And then, afterwards, for “Time Traveler’s Etiquette Guide” – and many more to come!)

Brandy was one of the very first agents I queried when I started agent-hunting over a year ago. The query odyssey was long and convoluted, and this post is not about that. Some other day, perhaps. Suffice to say, I’m not merely happy that I’ve leveled up as a writer – I’m ecstatic that I won’t have to deal with query trenches ever again!

Being agented is… wild. It’s a wild feeling, eh. I don’t have the numbers (and I don’t think anyone does), but I guesstimate that only 1% (if not less) of the folks who finish their novel ever end up agented. From what I’ve heard, it’s gotten even more difficult after covid. Some think that’s because millions of people had a chance to finally write their novel during the lockdown. Others blame ChatGPT: when anyone can generate a bunch of slop in a single afternoon, the number of queried novels goes way up, resulting in severe bottlenecks.

Whatever the case, it feels so strange – though in a good way – to be an actual agented writer. That’s not something you can buy, not something that’s awarded based on your looks or height – that’s based on merit. I’d started tinkering with my first novel way back in 2015, and didn’t finalize it till 2024. The novel Brandy and I will focus on had taken me just eight months to brainstorm, write, and edit. (Yes, that timeline is pretty symbolic, I know.) Between 2015 and now, I tried my hand at quite a few short stories, some of which actually got sold. I’ve been writing non-fiction Kindle e-books since 2011, and while they are, well, not fiction, that also gave me a fair bit of practice.

I’ve never taken a writing course, though I do have a growing collection of books on the craft of writing. (My top two recommendations are Chuck Palahniuk’s “Consider This: Moments in My Writing Life After Which Everything Was Different” and Damon Knight’s “Creating Short Fiction.”) I don’t know a single person even remotely close to the publishing industry. I’ve never been to writing workshops or retreats, and I can’t even imagine what goes on in MFAs. I’ve never been to a writing conference, and the only real-life pitch I’ve ever done was during a small panel at last year’s New York Comic Con – something I’d found completely by accident. (The feedback I got after my 60-second speech? “…I like the title.” Oof.)

I’ve been a lifelong reader, though, and a careful learner, with lots of time to think and brainstorm.

My method was simple: I just sat down and forced myself to overcome my hesitation and my self-doubts, and then I started writing. Perhaps not every day (though I tried to), and with a lot of outlines, powered by stubbornness and perseverance – because waiting for a muse didn’t prove to be a reliable strategy. And then… I developed a very thick skin: some of the rejections were hurtful; many queries just got ghosted, without even a token reply. I spent a lot of time spent querying, and revising my novels, and keeping the wordcount below 100,000. And I was patient. Very, very patient.

And even then success is never guaranteed. The nudge for my new novel (think “Ender’s Game” x “Chernobyl” x “The Umbrella Academy”) came from the most unexpected and unlikely source, though that’s a whole different story. If not for that, “The Patron Saint of Unforgivable Mistakes” might never have been written.

So if you’re currently in the query trenches, and you’re reading this… I don’t have the secret recipe, or the secret sauce, or a $9.99 book of advice that would boost your chances. You almost certainly already know all the advice I’ve mentioned. There’s nothing I can do to actually help you with your query, but I hope you will find some solace and encouragement in my words. I was just a guy, and then I started writing, and it took me a very long time, but I got signed. I’m not so insensitive as to say, “If I could do it, then anyone can do it” – but I hope my example will give comfort to other outsiders, to other folks who have no credentials beyond their love of fiction and their penchant for writing.

Onward, eh.

Ever onward.

My big adventure this year was to find a literary agent for my debut time-travel novel. That quest led me down some mighty weird rabbit holes…

After polishing, re-polishing, and starting all over again with my query letter, I got the attention of seven literary agents. One requested a partial (the first 100 pages) but then politely declined. One agent requested the full manuscript (full MS) sort of declined, but said she’d be quite interested in reading a dystopian YA novel based on something I mentioned in my query. Four more requested the full MS during the summer/fall (it’s considered impolite to nudge until at least six months have passed), and earlier this week I received a very enthusiastic reply from a literary agent I’d queried in October. He too asked for the full MS.

Normally, there are two outcomes to a full MS request: either a “thanks but not thanks” or an offer of representation. That’s the holy grail for writers, and it sets off a whole new domino chain… (Still, it typically takes a couple of years for the actual book to get published.) This was my fifth pending full MS request, and – thus far – the most enthusiastic one. I expect to hear back from him within a month…

I had some time away from technology two days ago (horrible, I know!), so I sat down and outlined the final 40% of my dystopian Russian YA novel, and split that outline into 22 small-ish chapters. Knowing that the end is in sight makes the whole thing a lot less scary, and far more manageable. If I go ahead and at least try to write up one chapter per day (no matter how poorly), then huzzah – my first draft will be finished in just 3 weeks. I’ve been knocking out a chapter per day for the past two days (today’s total: 2,667 words!), and I rather like this sort of architect-style self-imposed framework. It doesn’t matter how clunky the outcome is, because the first draft’s job is not to be pretty – it’s merely to exist. To serve as the foundation. And after that, you just keep piling more stuff on top of it, and improving, and brainstorming…

And last but not least, during all my research on the publishing industry, I’ve learned something very peculiar. Turns out, you need the full MS when you’re shopping around your fiction novel, but you do not need that when you have a non-fiction book – such as, say, a memoir/exposé about my 11.5 years at Amazon. (If any agents are reading this, drop me a line!) I honestly had no idea this was how things were done in the non-fiction circles. This entire time, I thought you had to sit down, produce a full-length book, much like with fiction, and then go agent-hunting. I really wish I’d learned this sooner… But oh well. What matters is that, after a great deal of research, I’ve assembled a professional-looking book proposal for my Amazon book. It includes the introduction, the first chapter, my self-promotion plan (podcasts and newspapers and all), the outline, and a whole lot more.

Querying a whole new project while the previous project is still in the querying trenches almost feels like cheating, like taking a brand new sports car out for a test drive. (Vroom vroom!) A whole new slate of agents to email… So far, I’ve identified and contacted the eight agents who have the best sales record in the memoir category and the fastest turnaround time when replying to queries. If my non-fiction query letter sucks, at least I’ll find out right away, eh.

…this is all so wild. I finished writing my sci-fi novel less than a year ago, at the very end of December, and I never would’ve imagined that a) a bunch of actual agents would show interest, and b) one of them would request a spec novel based on my dystopian Russian childhood, and c) I’d start querying an Amazon memoir. Oh, and, of course, that I would become a festival-going filmmaker. (More on that soon.) Huh. All that, in less than a year. Life is so random and beautiful…

And now we wait… And write. And write some more.