The Query Quandary

The query quandary…well, it’s not really a quandary, but it rhymed. I guess if I had to address any query quandary it would be the dilemma of sending them out at all.

On January fifth I sent out eight query letters. On January sixth I receive three no thank yous. My initial response was, “Hey! Slow down there quick draw! Did you even read it?” The letters were relatively the same.  They went something like this: “Thank you for your query letter. Although we find your project interesting, we do not feel it fits with what we represent.” Then there was the acknowledgment and apology that the “no thank you” came by way of form letter.

I can’t lie. I got a little depressed. Let’s just say the martini shaker was out that night. Then later, as I lie in bed, I pondered the questions that I think all writers do at some point or another. Should I have kept my writing a hobby? Why did I tell everyone I want these books to be published? Why didn’t I simply stay in the blissful world of writing book after book only to read a few chapters aloud to my husband? The answer is simple. I believe these books have a place on the shelves of Borders and Barnes and Noble as well as the cyber bookshelves of I see them in the hands of teenage girls who learn from these books that life is made up of a series of their decisions with a little fate mixed in. And these same girls learn to listen to their inner voices that tell them they already know who they are and urge them to make the right decisions.

So with that I push on. No matter the outcome, I will continue to submit queries. I will not let the “no thank yous” deter my plan, because some day I will see the cover of Call Me Emily poking out of a teenagers backpack at my local Starbucks.  I will jump up and down with excitement and wonder why I ever doubted my decision to send out queries.

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What’s Up?

I know. I know. I’ve been distant. It’s not you. It’s me. I swear…

The end of 2010 came like a rolling wave. I worked hard to finish the final edits of my first two books. Barely giving myself a seconds break, I dove into the first round of query letters. I wrote each agent specifically and poured over the letters time and time again before sending them out on the fifth of this month. And now I’m waiting patiently. Well, not really, but I’m waiting.

To distract myself I’m writing another book that will take its place behind Emily Calls It. What was once a three book series has grown to four. Emily’s Calling doesn’t quite pick up where the former book left off, but close. It’s Emily’s graduation day and changes are in store for her. Changes she doesn’t see coming at all.

Emily’s Calling

When Emily graduates from college she soon finds out there is more to life than simply less homework. She is tried again when professional challenges come her way with new responsibilities. Can she juggle the corporate world, a new love and all that comes with it?

Chapter 1

“Good morning graduating class of 1994.” Trish lifted her cup in my direction. Her long auburn hair was pulled into a ponytail and in even the most casual shorts she still could have easily passed for a model; tall-thin-beautiful. A combination you would hate about her if she wasn’t so completely likeable.

“It is a good morning isn’t it?”  I said as I approached the kitchen. She handed me a cup and slid against the counter top moving out of the way of the coffee pot. I poured quickly then lifted it to my lips. It was a ritual that started my first day of college which now seemed long ago. I let the dusky coffee aroma fill my lungs before I took my first sip. Trish rolled her eyes as she usually did at my morning ritual but did so with a little smirk on her face.

“So when is the family getting in?” she asked holding onto her cup with both hands as she pulled it up to her lips.

“Mom, Grandma and Hunter should get to Ethan’s house…” I looked at the microwave clock for a clue. “In a couple of hours. What about your family?”

“You remember. I have to pick them up at the airport.” She looked at her watch. “Now! Crap!” I heard the slam of the coffee cup and the sliding of the keys across the counter then the door shut before I had a chance to say anything.

“Bye,” I called after the door closed. Then I heard a knock about two seconds later. At her fierce pace I was sure she was gone. Who could it be?

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