It's a Job

Being an agent, I mean.  They get up in the morning and brush their teeth and drive to work like the rest of us.  Imagine walking in and seeing the slush pile sitting there waiting for you.  Can you imagine the ennui? The malaise? The big sighs and noses sore from the grindstone?

So pretend it's you.  Two hundred people want you to look at their books this week and make them rich and famous.  A hundred of them can't consistently make complete sentences of correctly spelled words that are grammatically valid and properly punctuated, but you have to read those too.  You hope most of them make their errors right in the query so that you can discount them as soon as possible.

Another fifty manage to write well, but they are writing the same thing you read last week, and the week before, and every week since you started this.  Aliens are here to conquer Earth, a common Joe must carry the great magical thingy to be destroyed while being pursued by meanies, beautiful vampires are angst-ridden and trying to be loved like everyone else...can you see it?  Even if an idea is a bit different, would you have the patience to read the whole query for the unique angle?  Head for another cup of coffee and a ten minute chat by the pot with another agent who's also having trouble staying awake, and discuss the kids' soccer team for a while.

So what grabs your attention?  A query has to be worth reading.  It has to suggest something different, but not so different that it isn't clear in a page.  Maybe you spend your days looking for "High Concept", something that will sell even if it's been done to death, or maybe you toss them as trite.  Do you like sci-fi better than fantasy?  Can you honestly give every query the full focus it deserves by three in the afternoon?  Few could.

Then there are those that do catch your attention, making you laugh right out loud - not at the wonderfully witty presentation, but at the absurdity of the attempt.  Some writer has determined to stand out, and in the process has made themselves look like a complete moron.  You take the query from office to office to share the levity, but manage to send back a respectful rejection nonetheless.  After all, you are a professional.

. . .

So as a writer I sit and stare at my query letter and try to figure out how to be noticed without looking like a buffoon.  I make the letter grammatically perfect, then stress over the way it sounds overly formal.  I colloquialize, and grind my teeth over sentences ending in prepositions.  Maybe if I change this adverbial phrase to a stronger verb?

Yes, all valid considerations, but honestly, as long as the overall voice is good, should they matter so very much?  Sometimes each of these foibles is intentionally used in writing to establish a mood.  Throwing out a query for one sentence ending in a preposition is like refusing to do business with a man because of the mediocre shine on his shoes.  It's asinine and misguided. I trust a successful agent to have better sense than that, and if not, then it's probably not someone I want to work with anyway.

Mood, on the other hand, is something that is always relevant.  The mood of the agent when reading my query will matter whether they like it or not...but it's not something I can control, so I can dismiss it from my own consideration.

All I can do is try to make my own query interesting, attention-grabbing, coherent, and true to the story.  If they want the story and they like my voice, then they'll pick up the book, just like any buyer in a B&N.  If not, then I stay on the shelf and wait for the next browser, though in this case it's a matter of sending to the next agent.

This is what all writers, especially new authors, have to go through.  Wish us luck.

The High Concept Gauntlet

According to Wikipedia, "High concept is a term used to refer to an artistic work that can be easily described by a succinctly stated premise."

It also says "An oxymoron ... is a figure of speech that combines contradictory terms."

Ok, forgive the jibe. I'll admit that it IS possible to create a work that "can be easily described by a succinctly stated premise" and still qualifies as art, but I'd call it the exception rather than the rule, and I'd put money that it's being sold short. "A rock the size of Texas is going to strike the Earth" is a great premise, full of potential and drama and opportunities for people to behave in a million interesting ways, but it doesn't mention anything about the characters in this particular story. Ok, meteor-doom -- even if it hadn't been done to death, what makes the story any good at all is the people this story is about, not the rock.

High Concept is a lie. It's not a "High" concept. It's a simplified premise, that's all, and in general has already been done to death. Shogun could have been stated as High Concept, virtually anything could -- "An English pilot becomes involved in the plotting for the Tokugawa Shogunate" describes the story, but says nothing about the romance, the culture shock, the Jesuits...

Every story either has elements you can't mention in the basic premise, or is pitifully monodimensional. To say otherwise isn't High Concept -- it's just high.