Querying is bananas (and yet...)

on keeping the faith as the rejections pile up

It’s bananas to query memoir. The odds are long, the numbers not in my favor. What makes me think my quiet, non-earth shattering story should be out in the world? What makes me think my memoir will attract an agent, find readers…that I will achieve the big, heart-achingly beautiful dream of publication?

Maybe it’s a fool’s errand to even try. I admit to sometimes feeling foolish about the whole thing. I’ve read too many publishing books and essays, listened to too many writing podcasts, and thoroughly done my homework on the querying process. I know the odds, and yet I’m doing it anyway. Does that make me a fool? Maybe…

Or maybe it makes me optimistic. Determined. Someone who is unafraid of failure. As a scientist, I know failure well. The structure of a scientific experiment is such that failure is almost guaranteed. You come up with a hypothesis, most often a well-researched and factually sound idea, and design a way to test it. More often than not the experiment fails and/or the hypothesis does not prove true. But that failure is only step one. You go back and tweak the hypothesis, redesign the experiment, change variables, and adjust the data analysis. In research, failure is simply another clue scientists use to get new information and to move closer to understanding. Failure is an essential part of discovery.

My current query total: 12 sent, 2 rejections. 10 non-responses.

Just like in research, it is important to assess and learn from failure. Unfortunately, my two rejections were what are known as ‘form’ rejections. Polite nos that don’t tell me anything about why an agent passed. If I’m lucky, I will get a few rejections that offer a bit of insight. But until then there is still much I can do to keep learning and moving forward.

I’m sending queries a few at a time, one or two each week, taking time to research and find just the right agent to pitch. The query letter I sent last week looks nothing like the first one I sent back in October. I’ve had my writing friends provide input, I paid for professional edits on my letter just a few weeks ago. I’m reading successful query letters like those so graciously compiled by

Andrea Bartz

here.

In research, failure is simply another clue scientists use to get new information and to move closer to understanding. Failure is an essential part of discovery.

The rejections will continue to pile up—a sign that I am pursuing my goal (my dream!) and that I am doing the work. If every time an experiment failed, scientists doubted their abilities or threw in the towel, innovation and drug discovery and new cures for disease would cease! How tragic would it be if (using my kids’ sports here as examples because we talk about this almost daily) every time a baseball player struck out, or a diver failed a dive, they simply gave up? Every strike out and failed dive is a chance to learn. And the dirty little (not so) secret is that you learn more from failure than success.

I will continue to send query letters, perhaps foolishly, but also doggedly. With each rejection I’ll search for clues and make adjustments to my pitch, learning and stretching my stride bit by bit. As a scientist—as a writer—it’s the only way I know to succeed.

I’d love to hear from other writers in the query trenches…tell me your process, your numbers, how you keep the faith. Published writers, feel free to send your advice and encouragement! And agents, if you’re out there, here’s my quick pitch:

THE FLORENCE PROJECT is an exploration of ambition, love, identity, and the choices women make that define their lives. One challenging and magical year in Italy teaches me that what matters most in life is not being driven toward success but the people, community, and dolce vita you experience along the way.

Me, keeping the faith…