All three Query Kombat hosts are so happy for her. Here's Melissa's story in her own words:
Querying is hard. And if you don’t think that querying is an
intensely difficult process (emotionally, spiritually, grammatically), then
there is a very good chance you’re doing it wrong. Or you’re extremely lucky,
but let’s be honest ... the former is far more likely.
When I finally reached the point where I felt that my book
(now titled FEATHERS AND FLAME, coming from Delacorte/Random House in spring
2015) was ready to be seen by agents, I had completed seven distinct drafts of
the manuscript. By the time I had the same level of confidence in my query
letter, I’d written over a dozen very different versions of it. The query
letter is your first impression with agents, and I knew that if I lost their
interest before they’d even reached my sample pages, I was already sunk.
When I learned about Query Kombat on Twitter, I’d just about
run out of friends with fresh eyes that I could assault with my letter. Armed
with draft #12 and a nifty nickname for my manuscript (Burrito Thief), I
submitted my entry, feeling like I had it in the bag. I’d done well in other
contests and I assumed I was on a roller coaster that only went up.
Oh, what a sweet summer child I was.
While I did make it into the first round of Query Kombat, I
advanced no further. I was knocked out of the competition by a cleverly crafted
pitch that snagged the audience’s imagination in a way that mine hadn’t. Draft
#12 wasn’t nearly as strong as I believed it to be. I was disappointed, but not
dejected.
You see, the point of a competition like Query Kombat isn’t
winning. It’s improving.
My query letter was critiqued by well over a dozen people
with varying levels of experience in publishing. Certain complaints popped up
more than once, which should be a massive red flag to any writer, while other
comments proved less than helpful (it must be said that not all feedback is worthwhile).
Notes in hand, I attacked draft #12 with a stunning ferocity. I hacked away at
the words until they began to resemble something coherent. Something intriguing.
Something you could read on the back cover of a book. And then I kept hacking
away at them some more. And when all was said and done, I held up draft #13
like Rafiki cradling a baby Simba. It was done.
I took my new and improved query letter into the trenches
and within a month, I had six offers of representation to my name. And in every
conversation I had with potential agents, the strength of the query letter was
mentioned. If it hadn’t been for Query Kombat, let me tell you, that letter
would have been a hot mess. In August, I signed with the wonderful Catherine
Drayton of InkWell Management, and by the end of September, FEATHERS AND FLAME
had gone to auction (if you think waiting to hear back on query letters is bad,
just wait until you’re out on submission).
So, next time Query Kombat rolls around, if you’re laboring
over your own letter, I strongly encourage you to enter. Honestly, I cannot
recommend it enough. You and your query writing skills will be so much better
for it. And remember, it isn’t about the thrill of victory. It’s about the
(occasional agony) of improving.
Melissa Grey is a writer,
teapot collector, and scented candle enthusiast. To read more about her path to
publication or listen to her ramble on about The Golden Girls and caramel
squares, head on over to Twitter (@meligrey) or Tumblr (http://www.melissa-grey.com).
That is so great! Many, many congratulations to Melissa!
ReplyDelete