Mar 062013
 

Edgar Allan Poe is a perfect example of what poetry does to people.

I thought writing a book was hard, but it turns out that was the easy part. The hard part is writing a query letter.

In case you don’t know, queries are what writers submit to agents. Sometimes you submit parts of the manuscript, but most of the time you just submit the query letter. So you have to take an entire book, in my case forty five thousand words, and condense it into two hundred. And you have to do it with such brilliance that the agent can’t resist requesting the entire manuscript, representing you, and making you both a fortune.

That’s the idea, anyway.

What it looks like at this stage, though, is me staring at the same lines over and over. I change a couple of words one day, a few sentences the next, and it feels like I’m honing in on a great query. I’m just honing in at glacial speed. Seriously. If my query writing was in a race with a glacier, it would be neck and neck, but I’d put my ¬†money on the glacier. That’s how slow it is, and it’s maddening. It’s more like poetry than anything I’ve ever done, and it affirms that I will never, ever be a poet. But to get this book published, I at least have to fake being a poet. I know it.

See what I mean?