It's been awhile since I've blogged about the query pile. Mostly because I haven't looked at it too frequently in the last few weeks. But today I begin another purge. And yes, I'm aware I said "purge" as if it whatever is contained within is something unwanted.

I don't want to talk about trends in book ideas/hooks I've been seeing. I'd rather talk about the expectations writers create with their letters, because there has been a growing trend in the guilt trips I find when I read the letters. Some clips:

• "What I need now is someone to take a chance on a new author with incredible talent and a hearty work ethic.  I am hoping you are that person."
• "I pin my dreams on you."

I think it goes without saying that all writers who are querying have dreams of being published, and need someone to acknowledge their talent in order to make it happen. But isn't it better to rely on the strength of your work rather than the guilt-flavored butter you grease your letter with? 

I know the odds aren't good. I get 100 queries a week (and this number pales in comparison to agents who have been doing the job longer than I have). I may only request an average of one manuscript a week. And I don't sign most of those.

But look at the stats the other way: more than half of my clients are from the slush. Not referrals. Not conferences. So I need the queries to find good projects. Making me feel guilty that yours isn't right for me doesn't help me--or you.

I'm not here to destroy dreams. Quite the contrary. But I can't make them all come true--just a few of them if I'm lucky.

Hello readers. It has been many weeks since I've contributed to the blog. First our agency summer break, and then a week in Seattle with the lovely people at SCBWI-WWA. But I'm back and ready to roll.

This week's topic is inspired by something that happened last week, and something that has also happened a few times over the course of my requesting material. I've blogged before about an author choosing another agent over you. But sometimes I don't even get to throw my hat in, so today's post is about that.

Click to read more ...

I caught this article in last week's Washington Post about how we sign emails. It's actually a super interesting question, and one I've been thinking about as I read my queries. I have in fact had someone sign their query to me, "Love, X." This wasn't meant ironically either, like, "XOXO, Gossip Girl."

Once upon a time letter writing was an art. People wrote drafts and then recopied them in formal hand. There was etiquette involved. There were specific salutations to use, rules about what topics to discuss first, and how to sign off. 

Then came Email the Destroyer.

Now we have a rather casual means of communication which people do not put as much care into as they should. We somehow forgot that because it's quick and easy we're still sending a message about who we are by the words we use. And how we use them. 

But this is not my point. The article is about how we close our emails. I have struggled over this professionally. I hate "Sincerely" for my own use, but don't mind it when new queriers use it. I choose to sign most of my emails "Best" or "All best" depending on how generous I am that day. (This article tells me those are cold. Do you agree?)

I also use a simple "Thanks!" once a line of communication has been opened or I know the person. And in my personal life I've often had an internal conflict when I've wanted to use "Love," especially with my male friends, and more specifically those boys you became close to and might feel that way about but just can't cross the line even semi-casually in an email. 

It's obviously an area with many permutations and philosophies and rationales.

So you tell me. How do you sign your letters? And where do you draw lines?