Got back from my (woo hoo!) girls' weekend late last night and boy, is my liver tired. (Sorry, Liver. More on you later.) This being the case, I have decided to forgo my usual low-grade intellectualizing and read about writing more than actually write about it. Right? Right. Alright. In doing so, I came across a fabulous agent blog that I both congratulated and kicked myself for finding. While most literary agent blogs are a bit of a bitchy yawn, this particular agent offers some seriously good advice that I wish I'd had six months ago.
In the post, she talks about how to stagger and time your queries so you don't waste a bad pitch on a good agent. So smart. I was such a naive crumb-bum that I queried my top picks at the very beginning of this miserable process. Had it worked out, well, bully for me. But it didn't and, since the first outgoing draft of my pitch was essentially this, I can see why:
PLEASE rep me. My book is about the Jehovah's Witneses and is really good I promise.
Now, in Chinese medicine you, Liver, are associated with many functions, both physical and emotional. Irritability, inappropriate anger, resentment, frustration, bitterness... I’m starting to feel all of these things, Liver. I’m hoping they’re more related to the 13 drinks I stuffed you with on Saturday night but that agent’s soothsaying post is pointing me in a different direction. And I don't like it, Liver. I don't like where all this is going.