My New Novel: Book Of Genesis

Oops, I just realized that I haven't provided any specifics about the plot of Book Of Genesis...

Here's my preliminary blurb:

Genesis Platt, a divorce lawyer, survived a predatory relationship in prep school. Two decades later, she represents her estranged roommate (Blaire Abbott), who married the predator (Connor Sanchez) without knowing what had happened between Connor and Genesis. The case promises to be complicated, since Connor has frittered away millions of Blaire’s dollars. 

When Connor claims he’s a gambling addict who’s being extorted and attacked by his bookies, Genesis discovers the real reason for his problems: He’s preyed on other girls at the school for decades, even through the present, and some of his victims are out for revenge.

Evolution of Book Of Genesis: Part 2

During the spring of 2014, I told a few fellow alums of my plans for writing a novel about a divorce lawyer who had survived teacher predation at her elite, all girls' prep school. My plans were not well received, to put it mildly. One woman called my home, insisting that I not write this book. Several others told me the book would upset a lot of alums, and that it would definitely piss off the school. I was told to expect to lose friends and acquaintances from our alum community if I proceeded.

One of my colleagues, however, mentioned the widespread sexual abuses at the Horace Mann School in Riverdale, New York, that had been exposed in The New York Times. I'm ashamed to admit that I had no knowledge of the Horace Mann scandals, and that I'd had no idea that prep school predation had occurred at any school other than my own.

Since then, I've read Amos Kamil's articles in both the NYT and The New Yorker, along with stories in The Wall Street Journal and scores of other reports about abuses at other American prep schools. 

Those schools include, in no particular order: Yeshiva, Poly Prep, Carolina Friends, Deerfield, Hackley, Woodward, Green Meadow Waldorf, The International School, St. Paul's, The Potomac School, Indian Mountain, Williston Northampton, Marlborough School, Solebury School, St. Francis Prep, Fessenden School, The American School in Japan,  Hotchkiss, and most recently, St. George's School... the list of private secondary schools with predator teachers amongst their midst doesn't stop with the latest sordid revelation. It just keeps growing.

As for my own alma mater? Silence, to this day. Except for the ponderous tome extolling the proud legacy of our indomitable founder, in which the emeritus assistant head of school unapologetically avers that the sexual abuses of students during my era by "a few" misguided teachers was an anomaly brought about by the subpar quality of the student body (not even kidding) and the permissiveness of the seventies.  

To which I say: Bullshit.

Evolution of Book Of Genesis: Part I

Book Of Genesis is a novel inspired by true events that occurred not only at my own alma mater, but at many other boarding schools in the northeastern United States, between the late 1960's and the mid 1990's. 

In private secondary schools, certain faculty members abused their positions of trust and authority to prey on vulnerable students. The schools turned a blind eye to known or suspected sexual abusers, blaming the students, or blaming the leniency of the times -- but always protecting the reputation of the school above all else.

Rumors of  'affairs' involving a few teachers and students at my own school were whispered behind cupped palms during my student days. Gossip within the bubble of our small community in upstate New York was to be expected; it was only after I was a twenty-plus-year alum that I learned how many students had been preyed upon during my three-year tenure at the school, that some of the perps had been highly-respected teachers (a few even had endowed chairs named after them), and how searing the survivors' experiences had been during school and the ensuing decades. 

I hadn't understood why so many of my most beloved friends from school had simply vanished, whereabouts unknown to anyone -- even Google. Several had chosen to remain in touch with only one or two select friends, retaining outsized levels of bitterness and anger from their prep school days that far exceeded my own lingering feelings of adolescent alienation. 

Maybe predation was the cause of their self-imposed isolation from the rest of us; maybe not.

All I knew was that, although I had escaped the attention of those predators when I was a student, others hadn't been so lucky, and that I owed it to them to write this story.

Story Structure Blues

Wow, I can't believe it's been so long since I've posted here.

Not like I've had nothing to say, mind you. But when Client Relations didn't sell in the early spring of 2014 (sixteen publishers' rejections in five weeks was enough for my agent to pull it from the market), I was pretty demoralized. Five years of work up in smoke.

My agent's advice? Write another book and make it a bestseller.

No problem.

I ruminated. I shopped online for things I didn't need. I played games on my iPad. I walked the dog.

And as for book two? I posted in September 2014 that I was writing a story about prep school predation, and that I'd drafted ten chapters already.

After that, well I came up with more plotting ideas, then wrapped myself around a flagpole for months about the right story structure. Then I chugged away, still indecisive about whether to write the story chronologically, whether to bookend the present events with extensive flashbacks, or whether (like Client Relations) to sprinkle small flashbacks into the present day plot line.

I'm still struggling with this, since the predator's 'grooming' and actual abuse are so critical to the story. I got smacked upside the head in some writing groups - really hard, the most recent time around. And now I've solidified my thoughts for the umpteenth time. So I'm writing again.

So what if it's a year or more later and I'm still working on the first third of my book?

Sigh.

Research Versus Writing

When I used to play a lot of music, late night hours were always my favorite. A couple of decades later, I haven't changed. The only difference is, I've swapped one kind of keyboard for another.

I'm working on Genesis, like I last posted back in September. I've written the first ten chapters, workshopping it online, and hoping to move quicker so I have a full working draft finished by next summer - wow, that would be nice.

I get sidetracked by research, of course. I've been called a 'voracious researcher,' a 'relentless researcher,' a 'tireless researcher.' I don't know if those are actually compliments, or insults, to be honest. I admit, I research every teeny tiny detail to death.

Some people tell writers not to research before they write; to get their ideas down on paper, and fact-check everything later. Because research is so distracting, it detracts from the creative process.

They may well be correct, but hell, I'm a lawyer. Trained to research first and foremost, before describing a single fact or event.

So I'm ignoring that advice. Which may explain why, after four months, I'm just starting to write chapter eleven!

The Power of Seduction

It took me half the spring, and the entire summer. And now, after Labor Day, I still can't figure out why Client Relations -- five years in the making - garnered sixteen publishers' rejections, a mere five weeks after submission date.

'I just didn't LOVE it,' the most common theme in my rejection letters, didn't provide me with much guidance. But after that many rapid rejections, my agent considered the book unsaleable. So I'm shaking my head and trying to move on. Totally demoralizing. It's tough to get my creative spark reignited, especially when I'm already insecure about my fiction writing skills...

The abuse of power will be the subject of my next book, tentatively titled, 'Book Of Genesis: A Novel. I was inspired to write it by a slew of still unpunished, un-'outed' faculty predators at my own high school, Back In The Day and thereafter.

Their abuses are dispassionately acknowledged by an administrator in her recent (indie-published) tome that chronicles the generally blue-ribbon history of the school, without any apology to traumatized former students. I'm outraged, quite honestly. So I'm creating my story about a lawyer who survived that ordeal herself, when she was a student at a school somewhat akin to my alma mater.

I've outlined the skeleton of my novel, and I'm starting the workshop process all over again. I'm hoping this time, my novel writing will not consume too many years, even if it proves to be equally or even more laborious than Client Relations.

The subject of 'Genesis' is wrenching, and my protagonist is already proving herself a survivor - this, when I'm barely four chapters in.

My workshop buddy and I have already jumped into the fray with each other, over who is seducing whom. My theory is: The seducer/seductress is the one who has more power than his/her partner(s). And emotional power can be just as big a force as physical power.

I'll see how the story develops and where my characters take me. I suspect that my outline will get a little torn as I go along.

The Great Literary Agent Race, Part 14

Well, the fat lady sang.

Within about six weeks, all sixteen (A-List) publishers responded to Client Relations with a resounding...NO.

Which means that landing an agent isn't the end of the story. I'm back to square one,

My agent has told me to shelve Client Relations for now, and come up with a new book idea that will be a best seller. Her advice is, if book one doesn't sell well, book two will be a tough sell, so she wants my first book to be strongly positioned. So my next book one needs to be a killah book: A NYT Bestseller.

No sweat, I'm working on it.

Sigh.

The Great Literary Agent Race: Part 13

Thirteen is a lucky number in my house. Both kids were born on dates with multiples of thirteen. So I'm using thirteen to post my last article in this 'agent race' series. I'm hoping that what would have been number fourteen will, instead, be number one in a new beginning for my book and for me.

Back to the race, though.

Actually, it's not a race anymore. It's a waiting game.

I've done everything I was supposed to do: I added a few scenes, I created a website (all by myself!) at terrilweiss.com, I checked over my manuscript again (did I say again?!), and I'm increasing my activity on the Web. I'm so obedient! Every day, I thank my lucky stars that I've gotten this far.

So now what?

Well, my agent did what she promised, too. My book blurb is in her January 2014 newsletter. I was afraid to follow up, so I waited two weeks to ask what to expect. She told me the blurb had yielded some requests, and she set a submission date: On February 25, she will be sending my manuscript to all the publishers who've requested it. She'll let me know who or how many as the submission date approaches.

After that, it will be anywhere from two weeks to six months for an editor to request more information or whatever. (I'm confident Jane will keep me posted, but I'll probably email her in mid-March if I haven't heard anything by then.)

I say 'whatever,' because I've never had this experience. I have no idea exactly what will happen, if anything. And I sure as hell don't want to jinx myself by even thinking about it anymore!

So here I am, being, umm, cool, calm and collected.

Face To Face With Big Baddd NYC Agents

I just wrote a guest blog post for the NYC Chapter of the Women's National Book Association. 

Honest, their annual 'Query Roulette' is the best author-agent meet-up out there. If you're an aspiring writer in the NYC metro area - male or female - this event is worth every penny. (I've frittered away a ton of money on miserable experiences!)

Here it is:

***

Four years of my life. I poured them into taps and clicks, data losses and backups, writing classes and conferences, webinars and online critique groups. Awake in the middle of the night, with my computer screen reflecting against the blackness of my windows, everyone else in my time zone was asleep. Well, unless they worked the night shift. Meanwhile, my kids grew older and my dog died.

Still, like most writers, I dreamed the Big Dream: Literary representation. And all I ever heard was how minuscule my chances were. I don't know what kept me going: Obstinacy, maybe.

I attended quite a few writers' conferences. Some had two-minute 'pitch slams' that were harried, nerve-wracking affairs. Herded into enormous conference rooms with hundreds of other anxiety-ridden writers, I waited on lines that wrapped around corners, hoping the dozens of writers in front of me wouldn’t use up all the available time with the fifty or so agents in attendance. Sometimes, the agents I wanted to see never showed up, or left before I made it to the front.

At other conferences, many agents made themselves available to attendees after their presentations, surrounded by swarms of writers, initially polite but exhausted by the time it was my turn. And some agents weren’t so polite – one even refused to shake my outstretched hand. I won’t name names…

At conferences that had breakout critique groups, I endured ‘read alouds’ where agents read my opening paragraphs to others in the group. I would shrink into my seat while an agent ripped apart my verb choices. And it wasn’t just me. Those lucky few writers in the group who were complimented were looked upon by the rest of us with awe – would they be among the Chosen? 

Reflecting on those conferences, I shudder -- publicly humiliated, and privately demoralized afterward. Recovery time varied, but it was usually weeks before I felt like writing again.

My first Query Roulette was in 2010. It promised to be a more civilized affair: Ten minutes, one-on-one, with agents whose names and bios I could fully research in advance; no onlookers; no competition for the time slot I reserved; and I would actually get to see the agents selected, without fear they would leave. And no humiliating ‘read alouds!’ I also noticed that many of the agents were top names from top agencies. I was sold.

And the WNBA delivered, each time I went: In 2010, 2012 and 2013.

I prepared for each QR just as I had for the conferences: I researched agents by combing their websites, plowing through every interview I could find. I checked their client lists, looking at Amazon write-ups when I didn’t know who the clients were. I even read Twitter posts to see what those agents were looking for.

I prepared queries for each agent I chose, filling in individual names and addresses, specifying why I chosen them in my actual query letter. I made two copies of each letter to bring with me, along with printouts of agent bios and relevant information.

On the night of the event, my papers assembled in a tidy folder, I showed up fifteen minutes early. Yes, the atmosphere was charged at the venue, a smallish space where writers gathered in one waiting room, while agents hung out together before the event started. The writers were supportive – some had even formed groups in advance that reviewed queries. A few sat alone, looking frazzled; others were a bit too gregarious. I was, however, pleasantly surprised at how friendly the crowd was, especially the event organizers.

When the QR started, though, I braced myself for more negativism and more rejection.

Instead of the writers’ conference insanity, QR was tightly monitored. The ten-minute time slots were strictly controlled, so there was no risk of not seeing the agents I had selected. Most agents were friendly, upbeat, and positive in their feedback – and most asked me to pitch my book after they read my letter. Requests for pages, and for full manuscripts, came right away. Sure, there were a few arrogant or unpleasant agents, but instead of feeling exposed and helpless, I felt secure, knowing the WNBA had everything covered.

Some of the most helpful feedback came from agents who weren’t even interested in my book. One told me to beef up my bio; another suggested ways to reveal more of the story plot while still keeping it enticing. Others suggested altering my comps, moving paragraphs around, and how to streamline language so that the query would ‘pop.’ 

Last August, after three QRs and a million rewrites of my query letter and manuscript, I felt like I was finally ready. Most of the agents I contacted were those I had met at QR, but I also ‘cold queried’ a few, incorporating the QR feedback I had received. Incredibly, I landed an agent – from one of the ‘cold’ queries. That’s how good the QR advice and feedback was!

The Great Literary Agent Race, Part 12.

So, if you read 'Part 1' of this series, you're just about caught up to me.

It turns out that Jane and her partner really liked my revisions, so -- heavy sigh of relief from me.

They have suggested that I wait until after the holidays to have them market the book. And they want to market it by featuring it in their January 2014 newsletter, which goes to  about 2,000 industry insiders. How cool is that?

In the interim, I received three assignments from them:

1. They asked me to do a conversational bio that didn't look like a c.v.  Yikes. The only other bio I have is the three-sentence deal that I used in my query letter, or the one paragraph thingy that has been used for introducing me at CLE lectures.

Another mental block that I had to overcome ... It took me a week or two, but I did it. It wasn't as bad as writing a synopsis!

2. Next, I needed to draft a sales-pitchy blurb. For some reason, that wasn't as awful as doing the bio, maybe because I know Jane will be editing it.  Blurb is now done.

3. My final mission is to read the whole book again and make sure it's as perfect as possible, without adding or changing scenes. I.e., without messing with it. This one's going to need another week for me to gain a little distance from it.

As to communication methods with my agent, well, right now I'm mostly using email. With my continued lunatic hours, it's the best way for me, and I'm sure I won't be interrupting her day with intrusive phone calls. Besides,  I'm a brand new client of a top tier agent, and I know she's got to be rocking and rolling with year-end deals. I'm not about to be a pain her ass, even though she's welcomed me to call  anytime. I see no need to bother her.

Come her January newsletter, though, I may be more antsy!

My best advice after this incredibly grueling journey?

1. Believe in yourself.
2. Believe in your book.
3. Be open to learning.
4. Be open to criticism, even though it sucks.
5. Finish. A bunch of times.
6. Edit, revise, until it's right, but it'll never be right until you can't do another damn thing to it.
7. Treat writing as a business because it is.
8. Research the hell out of everything.
9. Work your ass off.
10. Don't give up.

And that, dear readers, is the end of this series -- unless/until I have more to report...

The Great Literary Agent Race, Part 11

Most of us writers think about getting an agent's offer the same way a romance reader thinks about the heroine getting a marriage proposal from the leading man: 'And they lived happily ever after.'

Except this is real life.

First, I contacted all the agents who hadn't rejected me yet (the 'exclusive' e-mail I had sent around eventually yielded a few 'congratulations and no thanks' from two or three previous non-responders). My email had in the subject line "OFFER OF REPRESENTATION -- CLIENT RELATIONS.'  Can I even describe how awesome that email made me feel? Actually, I can't describe it - I was in a state of suspended animation.

My 'offer' email resulted in a few more auto-responses, plus one or two more rejections. And from the three lecturers? Two agents admitted to 'sour grapes' for lecturing me about the exclusive, another asked me to give her a week to read 'Client Relations' before accepting the offer. And that agent was also fabulous. So suddenly, after all these years of writing, revising, getting smacked around at conferences, attending wild and wooly writers' classes, dealing with faceless Internet comments -- suddenly, I was wanted.

That was beyond disorienting.

Anyway, I agreed to give the other agent a week to read, but you know what? After talking to Jane on the phone, a lot of things clicked into place. I checked her website, Publishers Marketplace, and a bunch of other blogs and sites over and over, giving myself my usual headache. I'm such a pain in my ass.

The next day, I told Jane 'yes' and the other agent 'no.' And sent all the vacationers and remaining non-responders an email notifying them. Which really did feel great. Even better in retrospect, since I can now accept that this actually happened to me!

Then what?

The agency sent me their contract. Back to my usual ways, I researched what clauses to look out for, searched for a publishing lawyer to review the contract, and got one to review it for me -- over Labor Day Weekend, no less. I discussed those comments with Jane's partner the following week, which was far easier than negotiating separation agreements! She finalized the contract.

But it wasn't until I received Jane's countersigned copy that I breathed again.

The Great Literary Agent Race, Part 10

So here's where things started getting really cool, really hairy, and really nerve-wracking.

My UPS packet to Jane Dystel was delivered to her office on Friday, August 16. On Monday, August 19, I received an email from Jane, asking for the entire manuscript. Via return email, not via snail mail. And me, being so cool, said, um, yeah, sure, uh, yipppeeeeeeee!!!! No, seriously, I wrote back, 'Thank you so much...' and, anal as I am, asked if docx was okay.

Formatting and technology. I'm such a nerd.

Three days later, she asked for an exclusive.

I wasn't sure what that meant in the agent world, but it sounded damn promising. Normally, I'd research the term 'exclusive' to death. But I was en route to the vet's office, my daughter needed a ride, and I was checking emails on my iPhone. I fired back an email to say I'd queried other agents and hadn't heard anything yet, which was totally true.

Jane then asked for a two-week exclusive, to which I immediately agreed. I mean, what am I, crazy? Hell if I knew exactly what I was agreeing to, but we're talking about a request from Jane Dystel, for crying out loud!! If she'd asked me to jump off a bridge (okay, what mom hasn't used that line on her kids?), I probably would've done that, too. I also agreed to contact all the other agents, to advise them of her exclusive.

Little did I know, until I got back home that night and fired out the promised emails to the other agents, what an 'exclusive' meant (no, I still hadn't researched it -- very unlike me, but sheesh, I was so excited!). I received auto-responses from the vacationing and otherwise-occupied other agents, of course.

I also received three very stern responses from agents, two of whom hadn't even gotten back to me at all over the preceding ten days. Those responses essentially lectured me that (1) I couldn't grant an exclusive when I'd already submitted partial or full manuscripts to other agents; (2) an exclusive inures solely to the benefit of the agent, who is locking out the other agents' ability to compete for the book; and (3) any agent requesting an exclusive is worried about competition, because they aren't A-List agents who can compete without exclusives.

That's when I scrambled to research what an agency exclusive meant. And I found out that, yes, I had screwed up because other agents had, in fact, received my manuscript (reason #1 above). I had therefore committed a big faux pas. But the two-week period, which ran basically through Labor Day, could hardly matter to the vacationers and non-responders, so if it inured to the benefit of Jane Dystel, who'd moved so quickly on my book? Well, more power to her. She SHOULD have an exclusive. And Jane Dystel is on the tippy top of the A-List. So ## 2 and 3 were, as I used to say in my briefs, utterly inapposite.

I clarified to Jane that I'd submitted fulls or partials of the manuscript to other agents whom I'd met at conferences, but that no one had gotten back to me on them yet. I didn't bother telling her that all I'd gotten the far was a lot of grief for granting the exclusive. Certainly no one had told me they had started reading anything I'd sent -- not even the synopsis! So why was I feeling so defensive and worried?

I've since read on many other sites that granting an an exclusive under these circumstances is a bonehead move. And -- something that had occurred to me -- if the exclusive agent rejects the book, everyone else will know about the 'no.' But you know what? NONE of the blogs or posts or comments I've read on the subject has said that the agent asking for a brief, two-week, exclusive, was the amazing Jane Dystel.

And, given that it was Jane, well. I'd do it all over again.

Between August 23 and August 27, all I knew was that Jane had been reading the book. It was a hell of a longgggg weekend. I checked email incessantly. Nothing. I went back and forth with the other three agents, apologizing for my breach of etiquette, wondering if they'd still read 'Client Relations' once Jane nixed it.

On August 27, Jane sent me an offer of representation.

The Great Literary Agent Race, Part 9

When's the best time to query? Hell if I know.

I had planned on the spring, but I wasn't ready. The months passed, and I still wasn't ready. Come early August, I wondered if my work would be reviewed by summer interns still in college.

I figured most summer interns would be gone by mid-August. I figured agents would be going on vacation, too. But if I waited until Labor Day, when the publishing world lurched back into high gear, I might get a brand new batch of completely inexperienced interns, and agents would be far too busy getting back to piled-up desks and in-boxes to want to deal with me.

So I decided to send out my queries and pages in the August 10 - 15 range.

I basically went in order of my querytracker.net list. As each email went out, I updated the status. I contacted a total of fifteen agents, ultimately, and I'd say a dozen or so were agents I had met at Query Roulette, conferences, or through webinars. The last few were 'cold' queries, including the agent I ultimately signed with -- Jane Dystel.

Most of my queries and pages generated auto-responses, like 'We will only respond to those queries in which we are interested,' or 'I am out of the office through Labor Day.'

Two came back with personal responses (both from Query Roulette agents): First, 'Hi Terri, Thanks for the email. I'll try to read this before I go away for vacation, otherwise I'm back after Labor Day...' and the second, 'Terri, please let me know if you receive an offer of representation...'

I really liked the first agency, and was delighted that the agent herself actually promised to read what I'd sent. The second response was from another agent I'd also liked tremendously, but it had me baffled. She wasn't making me an offer, she hadn't indicated she was reading anything. Was there some hidden meaning I didn't understand? (The answer came, about two weeks later.)

Email queries and submissions are soooo easy to do, really. Once you have all the shit out of the way (see my previous posts re the manuscript, the query letter, and the synopsis), all you do is follow the agency submission guidelines, block and paste into an email, and swishhhh. It's off into cyberspace. Along with the screwed-up 'Dear Agent X' query that goes to Agent Y's email address... 

Certain agents, though, don't take email queries. I noticed that with some agents who were either closed for queries, or the head of their agencies. And for someone with mobility issues like me, well, the idea of snail mail - like going to the USPS for Priority Mail, or the UPS Store - makes it even more discouraging.

Everyone I was querying took email, either because their sites allowed it, or because they had given me their email addresses, so no biggie.

Except for one agent.

This was someone I really wanted to query, albeit as a 'cold' query. She had gone to Georgetown Law School (like me); she wrote on her agency site that she wished she saw more 'great story telling;' and her bio said she had 'an abiding interest in legal subjects.' I believed 'Client Relations' would fit the bill, with its plot lines, and strong legal theme. I read all of her interviews, including a few where she discussed self-published books. Her openness to spotting new talent had caused her to sign a few best-selling self-published writers.  Although I never wanted to go the self-pub route, I liked how this agent embraced the reality of self-pub and technology, instead of denying its influence (like so many other agents).

On the other hand, the agent was Jane Dystel - and she's one of the top agents in New York. Which is to say, the universe. (Hey, I'm a New Yorker!)

I discussed the snail mail hassle with my husband. You know, like, 'Should I bother? She's never going to take me, anyway. Everyone else takes email. Maybe I should wait for the others to get back to me....' But, with his encouragement, I headed to the UPS Store the next day with my submission packet: Query letter, synopsis, and Chapter 1.

Around bedtime that night (of course, when else?), I realized I'd forgotten to include a stamped, self-addressed envelope per the agency's submission guidelines. So I sent that out to Dystel & Goderich Literary Management under separate cover, the next day, expecting to hear nothing for a really really really long time, and bracing for the worst in the interim.

The Great Literary Agent Race, Part 8

Since I'm reliving this summer's painstaking steps, here's another one:

I wrote a two-page synopsis.

The idea of that makes me shudder all over again. Yup, boiling an 88,000+ word book into roughly 700 words, omg.

I turned to Writers Digest and Chuck Sambuchino again. Chuck has some great examples of effective synopses, using mostly movie plots: http://www.writersdigest.com/editor-blogs/guide-to-literary-agents/synopsis-example-ransom-thriller

Formatting, again, rules the game.

Same set-up at the top of the page:
    Single space, on separate lines, left align:
    Name
    Address
    Telephone number
    Email

And across from that on the top, single space on separate lines, right align:
    Genre
    Word count

Start double space, then all caps center:
   TITLE - SYNOPSIS

After you're done staring at your blank screen, start with a zippy hook that mentions your protagonist immediately. The first time a character is mentioned, use all caps for the name. (I mentioned a total of four main characters in my synopsis.)

Leave out the subplots, use the present tense, and TELL THE ENDING. The synopsis is pretty much all telling, no showing, unlike the book.

Which is why it sucks to write it.

But you have to. Work hard on it. Take your time. Again, I ran mine by Chuck (using his editing service - he was fastttttt!), thenextbigwriters.com, and Laura Kingsley (the freelance editor I hired near the tail end of the whole process).

I sent my synopsis with ALL my queries and pages, even when it wasn't requested.

With my agent research in place -- well, actually, it was a never-ending process; my manuscript theoretically done (again) and properly formatted; my query letter finalized (again); and my synopsis finished -- I was as ready as I would ever be.

And I thought, if I didn't land an agent in August, I never would. In which case, I'd crawl into bed, cover my head with pillows and blankets, and never get up again.

The Great Literary Agent Race, Part 7

Before I sent out my queries and submissions per the agents' guidelines or specific requests, I did some incredibly mundane crap.

First, I checked my manuscript formatting. There are websites and blogs on this. I think I relied a lot on agentquery.com, but I also used writersdigest.com, nathanbransford.com, theeditorsblog.net and a few other sites.

Ultimately, this is the formatting I used for the manuscript of 'Client Relations:'

TNR 12 point, double-spaced
Title page
   Upper left align -- single space, separate lines: my name; address, telephone; email
   Upper right align: Word count, rounded to the nearest hundred
   Double space down six times, center align:
          TITLE (all caps)
   Then one double space, center align:
          By: (initial cap)
   Then another double space, center align:
          Author's Name
Page break
Now for the actual manuscript, that starts on the next page after the title page -
    Page 1: Start page numbering here, but no page number or header on this first page
    After page 1: Headers on every page
          Upper left align: Weiss/ CLIENT RELATIONS
          Upper right align: Page x
Before every chapter, including chapter 1:
   Start each chapter on a new page
   Skip six double-spaced lines down to insert the chapter title, even if it's just a number
   Skip three double-spaced lines down to start the text

After the drudge of formatting? Spell check the damn thing! You're probably so blind to the book, even after all your beta readers etc., that you can't see any goofs, right? So then save the spell-checked version as a new document and compare it to 'final' version. Do that about another ten times. : O

How boring is all this? I know, I know, it made me totally crazy, too. But the look you'll give your manuscript when all this is done will be so awesome. You'll look like such  a professional! Which is, after all, what you want to be.

That's why you want an agent in the first place.

Keep telling yourself that as you view the document in full page mode for the twentieth time, and find all the places where a new chapter begins six double-spaced lunes down on the same goddamn page as the last one.

Okay, still awake and with me?

Using my query tracker.net list to check off whom I had queried and what I needed to do (send pages, mark them off as 'no response' or rejected, etc.), I went to each agent's website to check their submission guidelines. Unless I had received a request for pages, and a personal email address from the agent (either at a conference, Query Roulette, or a webinar), virtually no agent will open any attachment.

That means copying and pasting your query and the first whatever pages or chapters of your  work - exactly in accordance with THAT agent's guidelines - into the body of the email. Then check the block-and-paste job in the email for spacing, para tabs, etc. in the text of your email Yeah, after all that formatting grind I just told you to do.

Because, trust me, if the agent wants the whole book, you'll be so glad you did such a professional formatting job.

And try to quadruple-check that Agent A doesn't get Agent B's letter (sigh).

More to follow...

The Great Literary Agent Race, Part 6

Now for the query process in August 2013...

I had kept track of those agents I'd met at conferences who had either requested a query or pages, along with those I'd met at the WNBA-NYC Query Roulettes, and those who'd expressed interested in 'Client Relations' following the webinars I'd taken.

In fact, I had a list of every agent I'd met, queried, or wanted to query, using a fantastic free internet site: www.querytracker.net. This site allows you to keep your own private query list, with notes on each agents (i.e., I noted when and where I'd met them, what they'd asked for, what they were like, etc.). You can track when and how they were queried, when they responded, etc. This really kept me organized.

In addition, I used Querytracker.net to look up other agents whom I hadn't met but wanted to query. The site has direct links to agency websites - very smooth and easy.

I didn't query any agency without reading their blogs, reviewing their agent bios to see who might be a good fit, then Googling all interviews given by each agent I liked, to be sure that querying them made sense for my book and for me. Checking the agents' book/client lists for genre and any writers I recognized was also mandatory.

Other places I looked for agents to query? Chuck Sambuchino's Guide To Literary Agents blog (http://www.writersdigest.com/editor-blogs/guide-to-literary-agents), Publisher's Marketplace (you can see who does deals frequently, what genre/s they sell, how they pitch books, etc.). Also Twitter runs a 'what I'm looking for right now' day for agents to post their wish lists. I read the 'Acknowledgements' pages of my favorite writers. The 'Absolute Water Cooler' website also has an extensive library about writers' experience querying agents, as does 'Agentquery.com.'

Basically I researched the hell out of agents to determine which ones to query.

So how did I write the actual query letter?

I read a zillion blogs -- including a few agents' blogs that ripped queries apart; I took a few Writers' Digest query-oriented webinars; I went to agents' presentations about queries at the writers' conferences I attended; I took my query letters to the WNBA Query Roulette for agents' reviews and comments; I had Chuck Sambuchino (one-on-one meeting at the 2011 Writers Digest conference) review it; I posted it online at thenextbigwriter.com; I edited and revised and gave myself headaches... and honestly, I was still catching mistakes and tidying it up through mid-August 2013.

Of course, my biggest fear happened: I sent a query to Agent X in an email addressed to Agent Y. Inevitable, when I was sending out about fifteen agent queries in one fell swoop, but nonetheless embarrassing.

Oh, I need to tell you more mechanics before I actually sent out my stuff.

Coming up next!

The Great Literary Agent Race, Part 5

Here's how I knew the book wasn't ready yet.

In November 2011, I joined an online writer's workshop that I had been referred to by a SEAK attendee: thenextbigwriter.com  Despite the grandiose name, the SEAK person had told me it was a supportive group -- and she was absolutely right.

The first person who reviewed me became a good friend, and we have remained so to this day. John Hamler, wordsmith extraordinaire and my nighttime buddy -- may he soon finish Antagony and be the next literary rock star. And then there's Jenn Nissley, an incredible literary fiction writer, who I am convinced will win the Faulkners and go on to superstardom.

Some of the others? Graeme Lipper, another SEAK doc and a great med thriller writer; Simi Monheit, fabuloso unabashed chick lit writer; Teri Taylor, hilarious creator of the 'Trailer Girls' books; Christina Michaels, Jeni Decker, Cathy Jones, all terrific crime novelists; Deedra Climer, intense as they come; Carlyle Clark, one of coolest guys ever; Terry McDonald, John VanCott, C Brass and Nathan B Childs, who were amazing reviewers; Felix Ulrich, who taught me a valuable lesson on 'filtering' verbs... see what I mean?

There are a lot of good people out there in cyberspace, not just stalkers who want to sell you Canadian drugs and sex tools, and want to invade your bank account...

I also hired a writing coach, Diana Amsterdam, who had come to my attention by way of a really excellent lawyer-writer friend, Allison Leotta. I'd never met either of them in person until mid-2012. Diana used the Socratic Method - something that drove me crazy in law school, as well as in Diana's  lessons, but damn, it worked! She and I differed on several major issues - most significantly, Casey's family history - but she really made me think hard about what I was doing, and more importantly, she helped me figure out how to do it.

I workshopped online with TNBW through about May 2013, which brings me to the four-year mark since Bob Dugoni told me to make the lawyer my lead. I spent the summer of 2013 polishing polishing polishing, and hired an editor that someone on TNBW referred to me  - Laura Kingsley, what a great pair of extra eyes!

By August 2013, I felt like I was ready to query/submit. I also felt that if I wasn't ready by then, I never would be.

The Great Literary Agent Race, Part 4

Okay, I'm in the middle of the story, so I'm not ready to sign off right now.

Casey Lang, now my lawyer protagonist, was a shitty to non-existent character. I'd made her a lawyer handling a case, and nothing more than that. Now she needed substance. Not just physical characteristics, but a personal background, a unique voice, quirks, traits, things to make the reader root for her (versus rooting for her client).

I spent the next two years developing her, and developing her story. I went back and forth with her. I won't even describe some of her initial character traits.  Let's just say she was dreadful.  Her first name changed three times before she became Casey. Her background changed even more. Her voice wasn't really fixed until late 2012.

Meanwhile, as I wrenched through her character and the story itself, I braved another Backspace conference, two Gotham Writers classes in NYC (where I met some terrific people), one Algonkian 'pitch and shop' conference (not a high point, although the attendees were great), an online Writer's Digest class, a few Writer's Digest webinars, and a Writer's Digest conference (yet another disaster for me!).

Steven King's 'On Writing' was one of my bibles. Another was Strunk and White's 'The Elements Of Style.' Also Turow's 'Presumed Innocent.' And always at my side was James Scott Bell's book, 'Revision And Self-Editing.'

During that time, the book had at least four titles, none of them very interesting. I think I came up with the final title, Client Relations, sometime in late 2010, while I was taking a shower, or maybe when I was half-awake/half-asleep. I thought of it, with its nuanced meanings, and said to myself, 'Whoa, this works.'

Taking advantage of being close to the NYC publishing world, I also joined the National Book Women's Association, NYC chapter, and went to three 'Query Roulette' nights in three separate years, most recently last May (2013). I can't say enough great things about WNBA's Query Roulette. Basically, you sign up for one-on-one pitches to up to ten agents for, like $20 a pop. The agent reads your query letter and asks you to talk about the book. If they're interested, they ask for pages. The atmosphere is charged but very personal, and I met some incredible agents there like Jenny Bent, Katherine Sands, Bill Contardi... really awesome, A-list agents.

I received quite a few requests for pages the first time I went, and my submissions met with one polite rejection and...deafening silence.

The second and third times (2012 and 2013), I received more requests, but decided to 'bank' most of them until the book was really really ready.

Whenever the hell that would be.

The Great Literary Agent Race, Part 3

Here it was, November 2008, and I'd more or less finished licking my wounds from the Backspace conference, although I certainly wasn't finished whining. Not that I'm ever finished whining.

Anyway, I spend the next six months working on my novel at a grueling pace. No kidding -- I was doing all nighters, sometimes thirty-six, even forty hours at a stretch. And I hate to admit it but, having always been a night owl ever since ever, those hours never changed for me over the next 4 1/2 years of writing. I doubt they ever will, either.

Anyway, come March of 2009, I thought I was done! I felt great. I signed up for another, much smaller, SEAK conference, this one held in Chicago in April 2009 with Robert Dugoni as the featured lecturer. 

Of course, this draft manuscript got totally trashed, too (albeit not quite as brutally as before).

However...the conference was probably the best I've ever gone to, for two reasons:

First, the attendees (mostly doctors writing medical thrillers) were a fabulous bunch -- fascinating, erudite and fun fun fun, and yes, I'm talking MDs here, mostly 20+ years into their practice!

Second, and even more important, Bob Dugoni changed my writing life.  

Let me tell you what Bob Dugoni did: He told me to make the lawyer the protagonist. As Bob explained, I'm a lawyer, people are interested in lawyer stories, I have a story to tell, and my lawyer character should be the one to tell it.

That meant a total rewrite of my novel, because the client, i.e., John Zambelli, Celebrity Chef, had been my lead. 

Back to the drawing board. 

Except I didn't want to abandon my chef.

The Great Literary Agent Race, Part 2

So now, step back in time to 2005 or thereabouts....

That's when I decided to write a book about how custody cases affect lawyers. I wanted it to be an insider's look on the process of what we do, why we do it, and how we live and breathe these cases. Except I couldn't -- the attorney-client privilege forbids revealing client confidences except under certain, very narrow circumstances (i.e., to prevent death or significant bodily injury).

That's when the notion of my writing a novel about a custody case took root.

There was a problem: Although I'd written a lot of professional articles, I hadn't written fiction since, oh, maybe high school... And writing fiction is light-years away from writing affidavits, briefs, and all other papers that I routinely crank out in the course of legal representation. (I wrote here, on this blog, about how different the two forms of writing are: http://bedroom-to-courtroom.blogspot.com/2012/01/lawyer-vs-writer.html.)

In a nutshell, the fiction writer SHOWS a character's feelings, both physical and personal; shows actions and scenes through dialogue, movement, description; paces the story to avoid glossing over nuances, and to ensure logical connections (i.e., someone has to actually get from point a to point b).

The legal writer recites factual information more objectively (albeit with the perspective and interests  of the client first and foremost), stating the facts and then weaving in the law to demonstrate how it applies to those facts.

It took me ten or fifteen years to master the art of legal writing. And then? I had to unlearn it -- completely -- in order to learn the craft of writing fiction. That process took me at least three years.

I started by taking a four-day writing conference designed to help lawyers learn how to write fiction. Every lawyer there wanted to be Grisham or Turow -- that was the essential concept behind the conference, anyway. The course was run by SEAK, and the featured lecturers were Stephen Horn and Lisa Scottoline. (Lisa is fabulous in person, by the way.)  Both are criminal lawyers who write  terrific thrillers, which is not my background nor was it my intended genre. That didn't matter at all for purposes of the conference -- these two excellent writers/instructors made me realize how much I needed to learn.

Over the next three years, I waffled about, then gradually drafted a shitty, cathartic manuscript (that looked nothing like Client Relations) in which I struggled to put my limited knowledge of fiction-writing, based on that one conference, to work.

I then went to another writer's conference, this time hosted by Backspace (an online writer's group), in May 2008, thinking I knew what I was doing. Wrong. At the conference, the opening pages of my draft were blasted into shards by breakout groups. The agents and attendees in my breakout groups were pretty merciless -- they'd use my (lousy) draft, and those of other aspiring writers, read the first paragraphs aloud, and then say how terrible they were. And they explained why. It was a disheartening, miserable experience. After I returned home, I cursed a lot and told myself to forget the whole damn thing.

It took months to get over that conference. Looking back, I believe that the conference itself was really really good. Being publicly drawn and quartered was quite a learning experience  - although I still wish it hadn't been so, well, PUBLIC.

Anyway.

By November of 2008, I braced myself for another attempt at the manuscript...