The timing seemed auspicious for
the 2017 edition of the DFW Writers Conference version of the Gong Show. For
those too young to remember the format of that cringe-worthy 1970’s TV show,
here’s the basic format: wildly improbable amateur entertainers demonstrated
their often questionable talents until fed-up judges dismissed them by striking an enormous
gong. Cruelty abounded, hearts were broken, tears shed. Did the unlucky
performers learn anything from their humiliation? Unlikely.
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| image: wikimedia |
The DFW Writers version is more
civilized, and educational, although possibly no less heartrending. Conference
participants are invited to submit their anonymous sample query letters to
(generic) agents in a closed box during the conference.
A panel of agents attending the conference – in this case, Christopher Rhodes, Eric Ruben, Barbara Rosenberg, Stephanie Evans, Quressa Robinson, Laura Zats, and Brent Taylor – seat themselves at a long table before the audience of attendees, and mellifluously-voiced DFW Writers Workshop member, George Goldthwaite, pulls letters randomly from the pile and reads from each until (or if) three agents signal their displeasure by striking the small gongs placed at their table.
A panel of agents attending the conference – in this case, Christopher Rhodes, Eric Ruben, Barbara Rosenberg, Stephanie Evans, Quressa Robinson, Laura Zats, and Brent Taylor – seat themselves at a long table before the audience of attendees, and mellifluously-voiced DFW Writers Workshop member, George Goldthwaite, pulls letters randomly from the pile and reads from each until (or if) three agents signal their displeasure by striking the small gongs placed at their table.
At a few conferences, Goldthwaite has
been able to read an entire query before being gonged out. This year’s
conference wasn’t one of those.
At this point, I’ll insert a brief
explanation of what a “query letter” is, in the literary sense. It’s intended
to be a business-like introduction from a writer to an agent asking whether the
agent would be interested in representing the writer’s work. Discussions of how
to write query letters, and examples of such letters, abound at innumerable
sites, including such usually reliable sources as Writer’s Digest.
The basic format includes a brief description of why the writer chose to contact the agent (“your website. . . ”, “met you at a conference. . . ”, “you represent my favorite writer. . . ”, etc.); the title, genre, and word count of the author’s manuscript; the story’s “hook” (attention-grabbing sentence), and a brief summary; and the author’s credentials (if any). The entire letter typically occupies no more than one page (approximately 300 words in email format).
The basic format includes a brief description of why the writer chose to contact the agent (“your website. . . ”, “met you at a conference. . . ”, “you represent my favorite writer. . . ”, etc.); the title, genre, and word count of the author’s manuscript; the story’s “hook” (attention-grabbing sentence), and a brief summary; and the author’s credentials (if any). The entire letter typically occupies no more than one page (approximately 300 words in email format).
Note that “brief summary” part.
Instead, what query after query of the 10 read at the conference included were
page-long descriptions of the plot.
Typical agent reactions: “I was
unsure whether this was a query or a synopsis,” and “a lot of repetitive
description, and still not at the story.”
Of another, Zats’ explanation for
her gong strike was: “This was a plot summary, not a pitch.” Ruben and Rhodes
agreed. “I call it the book report query,” Ruben said. (“Book report,” in fact,
was a term he used more than once during the readings.) Rhodes added hopefully,
“I thought it would get to the pitch eventually,” but he couldn’t wait for eventually to arrive.
Of another query, Taylor noted, “A
lot of plot, but I need to connect with the character. You need to strike a
nice balance between character and plot.” And of still another, Rhodes said,
“You need to be able to encapsulate.”
I felt sure Robinson, the only
African-American agent on the panel, would object to a query about a “creole”
character with occult skills, but she saved her gong for another query whose
slave protagonist who relies on her wealthy lover to save her. “I try to steer
clear of slavery (stories),” Robin said, “but once you started talking about
falling in love with a non-slave, it meant you’re not familiar with the power
dynamics of slavery.”
Zats also gonged the story, in her
case, as too simplistic. “The primary motivation of this female character is a
guy. That’s not enough.” And to his characteristic “book report” note, Rubens
added his aversion to “victim” stories.
Other gripes about queries
included: “couldn’t relate to the character” from Evans; a word count that
didn’t seem to match the genre, from Rosenberg; and “cliched logline” from
Zats. “I thought it was a Nicholas Sparks story and then it turned out to be an
eco-thriller.”
On a hopeful note, another agent
liked the “eco-thriller” and invited the writer to contact him, which, as I
heard from her later, she did. And most hopeful of all, both writers and
audience members got reminders – or first introductions – to the art of query
writing. For more on this art, one of my favorite sites is QueryShark. (And
for my own real-life adventures with query letters, see “Spawn of the
QueryShark,” parts I & II at this site.)
(So much information from the DFW
Writers Conference, I’ll be blogging about it all week. Tomorrow: inspiration
from blogger turned memoirist turned television writer, Stephanie Klein.)
