December 6, 2024

Into The Trenches: The Before, During, and After of Querying

In this essay, novelist Kennedy Cole shares valuable behind-the-scenes insight into how she signed with her literary agent, offering tactics for how to prepare a manuscript, navigating the process of querying, and finding your literary champion.

I signed a contract with Associate Agent Alex Brown at Mad Woman Literary Agency on July 24th, 2024, a day that turned my life as a writer on its head. Though I had plenty of time between receiving an offer on June 27th and signing the dotted line, it wouldn’t hit me until much later that what I’d done was supposed to be nearly impossible. I’d been taught to underestimate my potential, that what qualified as “writing worth representing” could not be achieved by someone my age, at my level. As a creative writing student yet to graduate college, I should’ve been writing workshop letters and drafting poems in the comfort of my dorm room. Instead, I was writing a novel.

I knew I wanted to query my manuscript when I was about halfway through writing it. In truth, I couldn’t piece the story together until the final few pages, but by the time I reached fifty percent, I had a feeling that what I was writing wasn’t a complete waste of time. I could read the words aloud without stumbling. I could close my laptop and immediately want to open it again. I loved my novel, and I wanted someone else to read it and love it as much as I did. After completing my manuscript and taking some well-deserved rest, I created a plan. In this essay, I discuss what worked for me during my querying journey and how I went from writing the first draft of my novel to signing with an agent one year later.

Revisions. Round One. In the past, dwelling too much on my writing—novel-length projects, specifically—was a surefire way for loathing to surface later down the line. The first step of my plan was simple: I would read my novel once. Just once. After two weeks of leaving it alone (I couldn’t wait any longer), I opened the Word doc and started reading. The changes I made were a mix of addressing developmental issues I’d realized during my break, as well as a few line level edits to help my voice flow better. Other than that, I didn’t want to get to a point where I could memorize my novel the way I’d memorized every Twenty One Pilots lyric ever written. This process began in late July 2023 and ended midway through August, when the first semester of junior year was just beginning.

Beta Readers. I needed them. They would be my spotters, the pairs of eyes I’d been missing when I sent my previous novel into the trenches prematurely. In September, four of my friends answered the call—one speculative writer, one literary writer, one reader extraordinaire, and one reader who wasn’t familiar with my genre. Some of their feedback overlapped; some of it didn’t. One of them gave me five stars; one of them didn’t finish reading. One of my readers helped me figure out that my novel was a thriller, not a mystery like I’d previously labeled it as. And in the end, it was up to me to decide what exactly I would implement into my manuscript.

After compiling their praise, feedback, and suggestions, I sat with their comments for as long as I could. It wasn’t easy to come to my own conclusion; for example, one suggestion I received was to cut out an entire character, one who I love very dearly. Deciding to keep her was a turning point; if I wanted to preserve what I loved about my novel, I would have to convince my reader to love these things, too. For the character I mentioned, this meant weaving her into the story, giving her more things to do, and developing her character outside of being the supporting cast. Instead of cutting, my word count increased from 78,000 to 83,000 by the time my revisions were complete. My four incredible beta readers and their various creative perspectives were instrumental for my novel’s readability. Without this step, I wouldn’t be where I am today.

Revisions: Round Two. This time, I came for blood. No mercy. Over the course of a month and a half, I read my novel three times. Once for plot, once for character, and once for final goodbyes. Forwards, backwards, then forwards again. I spent the entirety of January mapping out my revision plan, then allotted myself two weeks for each read. By the time I reached the final week of February, I knew that my novel was ready. In fact, I think I stopped reading in the middle of my final goodbyes—the words were starting to overcook. My brain was inadvertently starting to memorize my book. Huge no no. With revisions done, there was nothing else to do but take the final step into the trenches.

Record scratch.

While all of this was happening—revising, fall semester of my junior year, and even as far back as writing the novel—I thoroughly prepared to begin my querying journey. I started drafting my query letter while I was writing, a step I recommend for anyone planning to query their own manuscript. Through practice and repetition, I was able to get a sense of how I wanted to pitch my novel, and in this case, memorizing is actually a huge yes yes.

Reading was also a component for crafting my query. As I was writing, I read and researched multiple sources that I might be able to use for comparative titles. Typically, comp titles are two books or similar forms of media (TV shows, movies, podcasts, video/board games, etc.) that have been recently successful. There’s a bit of leeway here—while technically comp titles are supposed to be hugely successful, it’s possible to make the mistake of picking titles that are too successful. Take Harry Potter or The Hunger Games, for example. My comparative titles were Stranger Things and Lovecraft Country, which are two TV shows, but I made sure to mention the author of the latter title. All this to say, it’s okay to break the rules. We’re writers. Just be sure to choose at least two titles that best represent the content of your manuscript. These are necessary for your query letter, as they let agents know that you’re familiar with your novel, where it will sit in the current literary market, and that because of this, it has a chance to sell.

Research. Research, research, research. I had compiled a long list of agents who might be interested in my manuscript long before I sent my first batch of queries. Manuscript Wishlist was my primary source, but if you’re looking for agents, also check out Query Tracker and Twitter—or X, if you’re swine. These are necessary for getting to know the agents you're querying because each letter should be personalized. For updates on agent deals and to learn about what books are currently selling, Publishers Marketplace is also a great tool to use while building your list. I selected agents to query based on the genres they represented, the details on their wishlist such as character elements and settings, whether our personalities aligned, their website information, their social media presence, and their general response time. I kept every detail in a Google Sheets file, which helped me track who I was querying, each agency I was reaching out to (so I wouldn’t send more than one letter per agency), and their general response times. Doing this was necessary for my mental health during this process.

Eventually, I had a query letter, synopsis, and one sentence pitch ready to go. And just as I needed beta readers to sniff out inconsistencies in my manuscript, I needed someone to read my querying materials. I reached out to professors, both those who were teaching me at the time and mentors from the past who I’d reconnected with. 

So.

Record scratch.

Into the trenches. My first queries were delivered on March 7th, 2024. I sent ten, and received my first rejection two days later. Yay. At the time, I didn’t realize just how impactful celebrating everything—even my rejections—would be for both my mental fortitude and well-being. Later, though, I would need to celebrate everything just to keep going. Sending out queries in larger batches is also acceptable, but I chose to reach out to ten initially to give my query space to succeed. On March 28th, I received my first request: a partial for fifty pages. My first win! As you’re querying, you’ll want to keep an eye on your request rate—if you’re getting something, even if it’s a smidgen, you know that your query letter is working. And if you’re not, know that it’s perfectly okay to step back, regroup, revise, and re-dive.

I didn’t send any more queries until May 4th, which in hindsight, may have been a little too dramatic of a wait. I didn’t query sooner mainly because of my own paranoia, but also because I wanted to give myself time to enjoy my personal life. Looking back, a bit more vigor wouldn’t have hurt with my querying process. I sent five more that day, and on May 20th, one of them turned into a full request. This was the tipping point—good news in the trenches feels really, really good. So, I started sending more queries. Three out the next day.

As a writer, there can be a disconnect between non-writers on what counts as “worth worrying about.” Sharing that I’m querying a novel required a backstory and explanation, often too much for someone else to understand. My worries about not signing with an agent felt insignificant compared to fears of finding a job after graduation or losing money to college loans. I couldn’t have made it without the support of other writers, but when it comes to the trenches, self confidence and self care are also necessary friends. Read those books you've been pushing off. Buy that incredibly stylish yet somewhat pricey t-shirt. Write. And if it becomes necessary, turn off your email; doubt and anxiety are also your number one enemies.

On Monday, June 5th, I sent two more query letters, one of which was to Alex Brown. I’d been planning to query her for a while, and when her inbox opened I sent it in. On Wednesday, June 7th, I received my second full request, this time from Alex. I sent more queries during the month of June—one of which became a partial, which then became a full the next morning—but the real news was my offer of representation from Alex on June 27th.

I escaped the trenches of querying in three months and twenty days, with twenty-eight total queries sent. A flat out miracle. Alex and I had our first call on July 2nd, a Zoom meeting that acted as somewhat of an interview/questionnaire. Beforehand, I had emailed a group of professors I trusted about the great news, asking if they had suggestions for questions to ask during the initial meeting. Here’s a few that I asked that had an impact on informing my decision:

  1. What’s your editorial vision for my novel? How close to submission ready does it feel?

  2. What are your strengths? Are you an editorial agent?

  3. What’s your ideal client/agent relationship?

  4. Is there a possibility you could leave agenting in the next several years?

  5. The publishing industry has historically not treated marginalized authors with the same care as more privileged authors. How will you champion me, as a marginalized person, and ensure that I’m treated fairly?

Though I asked at least fifteen more questions outside of what I’ve included here, Alex’s answers to my inquiries demonstrated her hunger as a newer agent, her experience as a mentor, and her detailed vision for my manuscript. Right off the bat, I could tell she understood what my novel was trying to say, and that her passion as an emerging agent would help me cross the finish line. After this call, I had three weeks to consider my decision, follow up with other agents I’d queried and speak to a few people connected with Alex: one of her clients, a mentee she’d worked with through Pitch Wars, and another client at Mad Woman Literary Agency. I also spoke with Alex one other time on Saturday, July 20th. During this period, Alex’s incredible communication and the fact that she’d connected me with so many people (who had great things to say) solidified my decision to sign with her. Outside of clicking well on a personal level, I think Alex also understood that my novel wasn’t just a thriller with quick pacing, supernatural happenings, and two men who are more than friends—it was my story.

This was also the first project I wrote about a character who shares my skin color. My only project with a Black lead, which also explores the historical existence of queer individuals of color in the deep south. Though I won’t include the title of my novel here, it encapsulates much of how I feel about this subject in modern times. I didn’t write my novel because I thought that it would sell; I did it because I loved it, and I think that’s how all writers should feel about their manuscripts. I know my novel deserves to be read and Alex knows it, too. She’s my champion.

After signing with Alex, things moved at a fairly steady pace. I received my edit letter on July 29th, and we had our first official client/agent call two days later. I was able to revise my novel at my own pace, which I found very helpful while starting my final semester in college. Regardless, I took advantage of my free time, and returned my revisions to Alex on August 10th. After that, it was a matter of Alex re-reading my novel, both of us hearing feedback from Danielle Burby (a senior agent at Mad Woman and Alex’s mentor), and me finalizing my manuscript for submission. On October 2nd, I received a submission list for sixteen editors, five of which were with independent presses, and the rest with Big Five imprints. Alex and I sent my literary child out into the world the next day. The submission process was much like being back in the trenches, only then, it was a matter of believing in my agent as much as she believes in me.

After one month out on submission, my agent and I received a highly interested email from an editor at a Big Five imprint. The editor (an incredible, talented woman), my agent, and I had a call that Thursday, which included details for the editor’s vision for my manuscript—like turning it from a thriller to a horror—and requesting a revised synopsis implementing her suggestions. Her ideas to increase my novel’s tension and bring out its terrifying elements excited me; these suggestions also aligned with my agent’s editorial note to “up the cosmic horror” before sending my manuscript on submission. I think hearing that my editor wanted to push it completely into the horror genre matched well with the advice I’d received thus far, and also changed how I viewed my creative capabilities as a writer. I never imagined that I’d be a horror author, but as a Black woman who knows how few people of color are represented in horror, I’m extremely eager to step into that genre.

One week later, my agent called me on my partner and I’s anniversary; since we were driving back to my apartment, she warned me not to swerve off the road at the news she had to share. Not only had this editor made an offer on my novel, but the offer itself was a six-figure two-book deal. I escaped the trenches (for a second time) in one month, one week, and three days. At this point, it’s difficult to attribute my success to miracles. My faith, hard work, determination, and unwavering support system are where every ounce of credit is due.

If you’re thinking about querying your novel, please please please do it. Use your resources: beta readers, social media, example queries, teachers, mentors, etc. Don’t send any queries until both you and your novel are ready. Keep track of your materials; document every step you take. You are your loudest cheerleader. Celebrate your wins. Celebrate your losses. Most agents know each other, and they’re all in cahoots. Be cautious of what you say online. It’s okay to take breaks. It’s okay to shelve your novel, because you’re not giving up. Write the next one. You, as a querying writer, deserve your champion. Do not settle for less.

Kennedy Cole is an agented writer at UNCW pursuing a BFA in creative writing and a Certificate in Publishing. She works as an Editorial Assistant with ONLY POEMS, an intern with History Through Fiction, a practicum student with Lookout Books, the Managing Editor of Atlantis: A Creative Magazine, and has writing published in Second Story Journal, Oakland Arts Review, and Carolina Muse. The publisher for her horror novel, THERE USED TO BE PEOPLE, will be announced in 2025.