Selling My Soul (In a Good Way) is a weekly journal
about my efforts to get a debut novel published.
I paid $99 for a history lesson.
And it was a good one!
A little over a month ago, I decided to spend a few bucks at the Manuscript Academy website and get my query letter “reviewed” by a real live literary agent. Over the course of a few moments, she gave me some solid, useful feedback. So, why not try again?
Last week, for a higher price and more Zoom minutes, I made an appointment with another agent. The focus this time? Send her my query letter and the first 10 (or so) pages of my novel. My greater concern involved how the first pages of FINDING JOHN MUIR read, but—as before—I wanted to be in listening and learning mode. I would let the agent take the lead for what was most important to her.
We spent most of the time on the query.
She did tell me that, from her subjective viewpoint, my opening pages were good. Very good. Nice to hear! Hooray for my sentences! Pat those adjectives on their sturdy backs!
However.
She then wondered why I wasn’t labeling my novel as part of the “historical fiction” genre. Hmmm? After all, she pointed out, you reference John Muir and he died in 1914. After all, she politely added, the bulk of your story takes place in 1981.
That’s true.
But is 1981 “history?”
It is. Isn’t it?
After the Zoom session, one personal thought smacked into my weary little ole brain. I recall, when I was in my early teens and (even a bit younger) that I dived into many novels that took place during World War II. That meant, for example, in 1967, at age 15, I was reading about an event that had taken place 25 years—a quarter of a century!—before. World War II was history. So, if I’m writing “now” (in 2025) about events in 1981, that means there is a forty plus year difference between my real now and my fictional then.
A history lesson. And thus, I again tweak my query letter.
As of last week, I’ve sent 6 new query letters (Agents #44-49). One of them, to Agent #45, was launched on August 1, 2025. About three hours later, it was officially rejected. Drats! But wait! Later, I sent a query to Agent #47 and that agent rejected me in (gasp!) about an hour. I try to find this intriguing rather that debilitating. I try . . .
++++++++++++++
“Start writing, no matter what. The water does not flow until the faucet is turned on.” – Louis L’Amour
Picture of Upper Twin Lakes in the Sierra. Taken by me . . .