The Enquiry Gambit

If someone asked me what the most difficult part of writing is, I’d say it’s dealing with the wrist strain. I know that’s probably not the most helpful answer to an up-and-comer, but for me, it’s the most accurate. The second most difficult part of writing, at least as far as getting a book published, is the enquiry process. It’s a bit like trying to hit a target a mile away by pointing an arrow straight up.

For those of you not familiar with publishing, this is basically the part where you have to pimp your book, and yourself, to a complete stranger and pray to whatever deity you subscribe to that you’ve found the magic combination of words that will open that stranger’s door. That stranger then might ask to read the whole manuscript. Then they might offer a contract to represent you so they can pimp your book (with more practiced precision) to an actual publisher on your behalf.

There are many very good reasons for this hierarchy. A literary agent (the stranger) acts not only as a liaison between the author and the publisher, but also as a roadblock for books or authors that might not yet be ready to move to the next step.

Raise your hand if you want to be published!

With my first book, which was a graphic novel, I leveraged my tenacity and in-person SuperCharm™ to get my work straight into an editor’s hands. While this had the advantage of getting my work published faster, I also was at the disadvantage of not having an agent on my side. The result was that I ended up with crappy compensation rates, my royalties from reprints and continued sales were ignored, and my contract was violated by the publisher with no recompense.

Having a literary agent on your side is a good thing, but it’s not an easy thing to come by. You see, first you must write the magic Query Letter – there is no “right” way to do this.

While there are several good resources to locate literary agents, there is no way to know what type of approach they may prefer. I’ve seen successful query letters that ranged from “business-sterile” to “vomiting-into-my-own-mouth-marketing”. Just as every author has their own style, every agent has their own style, and finding someone whose shirt goes with your shoes is even harder when you can’t see each other.

There are some consistent rules that apply to all agents: take the time to learn what they’re looking for. Literary agents do not make their goals a mystery. Check the genres they represent, and check out the books and authors they have backed before. Usually, an agent will resonate with a particular kind of voice. If the voices resonate with you too, chances are pretty good that you’re on the same page. (Book pun.)

Also, be ready to accept that your work might need more work. Listen to your beta-readers, and apply their input. Use something more than auto-correct to check your grammar. (Like something with a pulse and a language arts degree.) Don’t fall prey to the “they just won’t give me a chance” mentality.

The rest is mostly luck. If you want to hit that target, pull the string back with all your might, and aim high. -K

Emojis aren’t a sign of immaturity.

I love emojis. They help me get my meaning across with my otherwise halting writing style, especially in text messaging. For people with communication issues, being able to use a supplemental graphical depiction of tone can make a huge difference in getting thoughts and feelings successfully out of their brains.

Alas, emojis are considered to be unprofessional in business writing, creating an invisible obstacle for those with cognitive or social impairments. Coupled with this is the general attention deficit of most busy people, resulting in the “TLDR” approach to emails or articles.

If we’re expected to be more and more productive with less and less time, wouldn’t it make sense to allow certain communication shortcuts?

“I’m pleased with the results.” vs. “^_^”

As someone who thinks in pictures, the emoji gives me an instantaneous message, while the written sentence causes me to analyze the words:

  1. Are they being sarcastic?
  2. Is “pleased” like “satisfied”? Or like “happy”?
  3. Are they only pleased with the results, but didn’t approve of the method?

I’m in the group of the spectrum that would be considered to have strong communication abilities, but I still find myself unable to perceive tone most of the time. A friend of mine never uses emojis in his texts, and this is usually the result.

I spent a year as the head of Communications for the IT department of our local university, and while I loved my job, and I did it well (as far as I could tell…), my boss’ messages never conveyed tone. I could never tell if she was angry or happy, and since our meetings consisted of her either telling me that I “got her” or throwing papers around the room in frustration, both of these could have been valid possibilities.

Remember, that’s with strong communication abilities. For someone who has a more difficult time than I do, functioning in the social environment of an office job can become much more difficult, or even impossible.

So, I know it might seem childish, but next time someone insists on using emojis in their business correspondence, take a moment to consider that they might be trying to do you a favor. ~K

Other Ramblings…