(This is for writers who have already learned the basic components of a query letter but have yet to sign with an agent. There are many wonderful blogs out there that cover the basics.)

If you didn’t notice, my interview yesterday was based on the movie, Interview with a Vampire. I even watched the first few opening lines in the trailer to get in the mood.

I chose this movie, well, because honestly, the query letter is often  viewed as the evil vampire (even though vampires aren’t quite so evil since Edward). Writers rant about the query letter. Hate them. Love them. Have all their hopes and dreams in them.  And sometimes writers are like Christian Slater, who in the movie, interviewed the vampire. He was naive. Innocent. Shocked.

And, as writers, we often come into writing our first query naive. Innocent. Shocked. Shocked at how hard it is to write a snappy query (unless you are one of those natural query letter people out there, which I’m sure there are some).

Think of all we are trying to accomplish in one 250 word letter:

A teaser of our novel, written so it doesn’t sound cliche, boring, or vague.

A snippet of our writing style, even though two of the paragraphs are all about wordcount, genre, and our bio (if we’re lucky enough to have one).

A taste of our writing voice and a quick peek into our main character so hopefully an agent or editor will connect with them.

Prove that we have mastered basic grammar and speling scills.

Make a connection with the agent without lying, sounding fake, or sounding like a total suck-up.

(I’m sure the list could go on and on and on and on and on.)

It sounds near impossible. But it isn’t. I tried to find the magic formula. I scoured the web. I read agent blogs. I read successful query letters. And after I’d learned the basics, the letters helped the most.

I saw details that were unique and interesting, instead of vague. I saw voice! Nothing was confusing. And they didn’t try to tell their story in 3 sentences. They took a couple paragraphs. Strong verbs, good grammar, fun main character traits…

When I’m ready to query in a couple months (hopefully) I’m coming at the query from a different angle. I’m stepping outside of my comfort zone and write the kind of letter that I would want to receive, that would interest me. It’s all part of my resolution for this new year. I’m stepping outside of my comfort zone, out of the box, when it comes to my writing. Out of the safety zone, which is uually blah, boring, and boring.

But of course, even the best written query can’t hide a weak plot or story premise. So write a gotta-read story, and then step out of the box when you write your query. (Of course being professional at all times.)

My biggest piece of advice?

Don’t have too many people critique it. Don’t workshop your letter to death so any personality or style is stamped out of it. And go with your gut. And hopefully, it will reflect your writing, your voice, your style.

How do you feel about the query? Any advice?

“Why don’t you say we get started?” I asked, sipping my cinnamon coffee. Digital recorder on the table.

“So, you want me to tell you the story of my life?” Query had his back to me. Then he turned. “I’ll tell you my story. I’ll tell you all of it.”

I pretended to stir cream in my coffee that wasn’t there. He sounded serious. Too serious.

“I’m paper and ink but not a real letter. I haven’t been the letter I want to be in years. Ever since Miss Snarky pants.”

“What do you mean?” I asked. He sounded troubled. Maybe I should slip him the number of my therapist.

“Back in the old days, writers had fun with me. Chocolates or homemade pumpkin muffins sent with me, or special clip art on the sides of my page. Now, it’s boring 12 point NTR font on nice white paper.”

“It’s called being  professional.” Didn’t he want us writers to succeed? I had my doubts.

“I know. I follow Nathan, Kristen, and Daphne. And I’ll never forget Miss Snark.” He paused, curling his sides as if upset. “But that’s not the worst of it.”

I glanced up in surprise.

“I used to take solace in the words. Words that spotlighted the writer instead of the story. Words that compared the story to that Potter boy or that sparkly vampire guy. Rhetorical questions made me leap for joy. Vague three sentence summaries gave me chills. I loved them all.”

My coffee had grown cold, but I didn’t care. “So, what happened?”

He turned his back to me again. “Query letters have become better. Professional. Detailed. Expressive.” His last words were a whisper. “Well written.”

We were almost done, but I wanted to leave him with words of encouragement. “You can still take pleasure in misspelled names, bulk emails, and typos.”

He shrugged but said nothing.

I had to cheer him up. “Don’t worry. To many writers, you are still shrouded in mystery and a source of great angst.”

He snorted. “You’ve been reading YA novels, haven’t you?”

I straightened my back. “Yeah. And proud of it.”

“Thanks,” Query said. “I feel better. We should meet for coffee sometime. On me.” Then he turned his back to me. The interview was over.

I slipped out of the room to go home and write a query. One that would send Query into the depths of despair. Maybe I’d leave in a typo, just for him. And maybe, I’d bake some pumpkin muffins.