This came to my attention when listening to TSNOTYAW this week, where they discussed Bloomsbury's (newish / updated? Couldn't find the exact pub date) AI policy. I couldn't find past discussion in r/PubTips, but please link if I missed it. This was my first hearing of an actual, detailed policy, so I wanted to discuss.

To my knowledge, Bloomsbury's AI Policy for Authors and Illustrators is the first concrete policy direction provided by a major publisher, and may be indicative of other publisher policies in development. I've linked, and their summary is copy/pasted below.

On reading the full policy, I have questions on how authors can succeed under the current version. I think there are important considerations for Bloomsbury's future policy edits/clarifications, as well as future policies yet to be released by other publishers.

Would love to hear others' thoughts, or receive updated information if the questions I've raised have already been debated / decided.

Disclaimer: My background is public policy, NOT publishing.

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Bloomsbury’s AI Policy for Authors and Illustrators – A summary:

Using AI as an assistive tool:

✓ You may use AI tools for research and brainstorming

✓ You may use AI tools to assist in the editing of text and in the preparation of certain associated text items, provided you use a private AI system

✓ You may use AI tools to edit or enhance images, as long as the editing is carried out using Adobe Creative Cloud, and the images being edited are your own original work

Using AI as a generative tool:

✗ You may not submit any AI-generated content (including text, translations, or images) to Bloomsbury for publication

✗ You may not use AI tools to generate or create images or other illustrative materials

Privacy and disclosure:

✗ You may not input your work, or sections of your work, to any publicly accessible AI system

✓ You must disclose any use of AI tools – beyond the research and brainstorming stage – to your point of contact at Bloomsbury

✓ Ask your point of contact at Bloomsbury if unsure about any of the above.

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Bloomsbury defines a "publicly accessible AI system" as:

A “private AI system” means an AI tool, application, or system deployed on infrastructure fully owned or controlled by an organisation you are part of, and which your organisation has explicitly confirmed safeguards submitted user data and does not train its algorithm on user-submitted prompts and content. This includes instances such as an enterprise-hosted version of ChatGPT provided by a university or company. For the avoidance of doubt, this does not include paid-for, “private mode” or “incognito mode” use of publicly accessible tools and websites such as OpenAI’s ChatGPT.

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Questions / concerns that came to mind from all of the above:

1. The policy does not differentiate between LLMs and other types of AI models, which means more tools than may be obvious technically fall within the definition. For example, Microsoft Word and Google Docs both use some form of AI for their spell checks, and do not meet Bloomsbury's definition of a private AI system. My understanding is that historically, spell checks have been exempt from "AI Assisted" publication labels, but Bloomsbury explicitly states editing of text isn't exempt.

This also likely means that simply by writing using these programs, you've given AI access to your manuscript. As a Google Docs user, ironically using this method because of automatic backups to refute AI usage, this concerns me. Sure, there are ways to turn off most AI features on Word, but I think it's fair to assume many, many authors will inadvertently give AI access to their writing.

1. If private and incognito modes don't meet the definition of a private system, this means that LLM (and other AI) use will only be accessible to people at specific universities and companies that have invested in completely closed systems. Is allowed LLM use for research, brainstorming, and editing an unfair advantage? Maybe? Does this mean that Raytheon employees will now make up a disproportionate percentage of published authors? Probably not -- but I do think equity and access to tools should be considered.

Also, incognito mode use can't be proven or disproven, so I'm not sure how an author would refute AI use claims here, or how a publisher would actually be able to enforce this standard if an author didn't self-report.

1. This makes trustworthy beta readers even more important. If a beta reader gives AI access to your work intentionally or unintentionally, this violates the policy. (As has been discussed previously on r/PubTips.)

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Questions / Considerations for the future:

1. Bloomsbury should communicate standards for policy violations. Do any and all violations result in no / revoked contract? Are there tiers of consequence? (For example, needing to rewrite any chapters that were uploaded to AI vs automatic no contract).

2. Is there any grace for inadvertent policy violations, or violations by a third party? Do they actually care if Google Doc's AI integrations have access to your writing? Will they reject your manuscript if you tell them a Beta reader you met online clearly gave you ChatGPT feedback?

3. Bloomsbury should develop clear procedures for monitoring. What is the due diligence process for monitoring author AI use? Are there standard records / evidence authors need to keep or expect to provide as a standard part of the process? Where does the burden of proof lie?

4. How does Bloomsbury apply due diligence internally? Do they commit to not running author works through AI to detect AI? How will they audit internal AI usage?

---

I know some of these questions and points have been raised generally on other posts, but does anyone have insight into the implementation / consequences of this policy specifically, or other policies in development?

Hello friends!

Hoping to get this manuscript ready to query within the next month, so would love some feedback around my opening letter and any thoughts that you might have on the concept.

—
Dear [Agent’s Name],

[Personalisation]

LET THE CITY FALL is a horror romance with dystopian elements, complete at 90,000 words. It combines the romance under authoritarian control of H. M. Wolfe’s Daggermouth, the urban cosmic horror of Cassandra Khaw and Richard Kadrey’s The Dead Take the A Train, and the dry humour of Kaliane Bradley’s The Ministry of Time.

In a London powered by an imprisoned eldritch god, horror novelist Marisol Santos investigates a blood cult claiming to heal the incurable. With her mother slipping further into dementia, she’s desperate enough to hear its followers out. Her books win their trust and attract the attention of the Bureau of Deep Works, the government department responsible for keeping their god in chains and the lights on. Threatening her mother, the Bureau orders Marisol to continue her investigation, this time to discover how the cult is accessing the god’s power.

Thorne Gascoigne is a Hound: a man who transforms into a monstrous beast, dependent on Bureau treatment to survive. He’s outlived his one-year life expectancy by four years, secretly helping other Hounds escape disposal. Imagining his own future is another matter. Until he’s assigned to protect Marisol and pose as her boyfriend. Playing the part should be straightforward. Resisting the urge to touch her when nobody’s watching is harder. He cannot tell whether it’s desire or the beast getting hungry.

As they infiltrate the cult, Marisol discovers that Thorne carries the rare blood needed to free the god—or bind it through a sacrifice that demands his life. Falling for him means keeping that discovery from both the cult and the Bureau. After five years as the Bureau’s expendable beast, she makes him feel like a man worth loving. He wants a life with her, but he’s willing to surrender himself to keep her safe. With London unravelling around them, Marisol must choose between saving an entire city and saving the man she loves.

I’m a queer Brazilian writer based in the UK. As PEN NAME, I’ve published fifteen books with Harlequin Mills & Boon, selling over 100,000 copies with translations into various languages.

Thank you for your time and consideration.

—

300 words:

The thing about cults, which Marisol should have thought of before she came here, was that they didn’t consider themselves cults. In their minds, what they were doing was the only rational thing to do, while the rest of the world simply hadn’t caught up to the rightness of their way. When she sat down in the booth of the dilapidated pub across from Valerie, she thought they looked quite ordinary for scary blood cultists.

Valerie wore a pale blue cardigan with pearl buttons and had hooked her handbag over a little protrusion behind her. A pair of reading glasses hung from a chain around her neck. She looked like one of the many aunts who had visited her mother back in the day, when she still gave out blessings and performed ritual healings in the tiny village Marisol was from. 

It was such a distracting sight and so ordinary that she didn’t realise Valerie had been talking all this time until things around her went quiet.

“Pardon, did you say something?” Marisol asked, blinking rapidly.

Valerie’s expression softened into one of genuine concern. “Is Martin distracting you?” she asked, and Marisol followed her gaze to the adjacent table. 

Martin sat with one hand held over a jam jar, blood gathering at his fingertip before dropping into the bottom. Beside him were a small dish of grey powder, a bottle with no label and a paintbrush resting on a folded paper towel.

“No, he’s fine,” Marisol said, before considering whether this was an assessment she was qualified to make. “What is he making?”

“The paint,” Valerie replied.

Martin pressed a piece of cotton wool against his finger, then tipped the powder into the jar. He added a little liquid from the bottle and stirred with the brush handle, scraping it carefully around the glass. Nobody else was watching. Apparently this was the uninteresting part. 

Hey folks!

It has been about a month since I started querying, and so far all I got were mostly quick form rejections (including one from a referral lolsob). I still have about 27 outstanding queries, and am holding off to send more, so would really appreciate any feedback on what could be improved. Yes, I am deluding myself into thinking I have any control here.

I would also be curious whether I should pitch this manuscript as a romance. I have been pitching it as horror, since there isn't really a horror romance on QT, but it does have structure of a romance and does fulfill the romance expectations.

For reference, previous versions of the query can be found: here, here and here.

_________________

Dear [AGENT NAME],

I am seeking representation for KILL ALL YOUR FRIENDS, a campy horror romance where a grief-stricken young woman and an undead trans man join forces to get revenge, and find love in all the carnage. Complete at 76,000 words, it blends the horror/romance combo of How to Kill a Guy in Ten Dates by Shailee Thompson with dark humour of Play Nice by Rachel Harrison, as well as murderous campy romance of the movie Lisa Frankenstein.

Berlin, Germany. In the wake of her sister’s brutal murder, Vic Lisenko finds an unorthodox coping strategy: fantasising about dismembering the killer in gory details. It’s the only thing that keeps her alive. Besides, it’s not like she can act on it — the police haven’t found any suspects and the case is growing colder than her sister Sofia’s body.

One summer afternoon, Vic gets an invitation to a weekend getaway from the Kellerkinder, her sister’s old friend group. Although it’s surprising they would reach out after years of ignoring her existence, Vic is convinced they might have a lead. And she will do anything to find out who killed Sofia.

Sofia was not the first of the Kellerkinder to die. Four years ago, Elliot Wilde disappeared at a winter holiday retreat and has since been presumed dead. That is, until he crawled out of his grave to get revenge on the childhood friends who had left him to die.

At the weekend getaway, their paths cross, and both Vic and Elliot realise they have better chances to get what they want if they join forces. They concoct a plan: first, they will beat the information out of the Kellerkinder. Then, they slit their throats. And will it be so bad if they end up falling in love?

When they discover a dead body neither of them had anything to do with, the tables turn. Sofia’s murderer is back for more bloodshed and Vic and Elliot must do everything to survive the night.

[BIO]

Looking forward to hearing from you!

_________________

First 300:

The blood was everywhere.

At first, it simply welled up on Vic’s finger, precisely at the intersection between her flesh and the blade, a thick ruby drop. Honestly, she hadn’t ever realised it was there. The knife dug into her skin freely and painlessly, as if it has always belonged there, inside her.

She pulled the knife out without thinking, ready to make another chop, when she saw what was happening. But it was already too late.

A quick spurt, an awkward stumble, and a projective splash of red painted the off-white tiles of the kitchen bright red, transforming it into an active crime scene.

“Fuck!”

Vic whirled around, injured finger held by the fingertips of the other hand, sending more red, like a horror movie themed sprinkler. The knife, forgotten, clattered to the floor, and she yelped, jumped to the right, and hit her knee on the half-open drawer.

“Mother f—”

That sent another squirt of blood out of her. Since when did fingers bleed this bad? The red spilled generously over the chipped white paint of the window sill. Glass didn’t get out unscathed either. Angry red trickled across the pane.

Vic kept on pacing, profanities dying on her lips before she could breathe them out. Hand slick, she pressed the cut to stop the flow, just stop it, but blood ended up spraying more furiously. Some of it got in her eye.

What a fucking mess. Carefully stepping around a knife, Vic pushed to the kitchen sink.

A generous splash of blood was not a part of a tuna salad last time she checked. Maybe, her cardiovascular system was being a little dramatic. But who was there to stop her?

“Well, fuck me."

I posted the first attempt for this query a few months ago, linked here. I rewrote the query a few times and got some more feedback, but after querying about 30 agents, I haven't had as much as a single personalized rejection, let alone a partial or full MS request.

Since then, I've done some pretty extensive revisions to the manuscript and rewrote the query another couple times based on some more research. Mostly I realized that the protagonist's want/goal wasn't specific or urgent enough, so I'm hoping I adressed that. Am I getting close?

Thank you to everyone who provided such great feedback on my last post, and thank you to those who care to read this one!

--

Dear [AGENT NAME],

Given your interest in [THEMES], I’m happy to share YOU’VE BEEN CANCELLED!, complete at 80,000 words. The satirically delusional protagonist of Meredith Hambrock’s SHE’S A LAMB! meets the twisty social commentary of Liann Zhang’s JULIE CHAN IS DEAD in this “coming of rage” psychological thriller and dark comedy.

Already drowning in mounting payments to an anonymous blackmailer, a sociopathic influencer plunges into infamy following the spread of a controversial AI deepfake—realizing she must hunt down whoever is clearly hell-bent on ruining her life, or risk spending years behind bars instead of beneath the limelight.

Alana Wilson loves profiting off of making women feel bad about themselves. As a prominent influencer, nothing pays better than showcasing her (edited) body and (not-so-) perfect marriage. The problem: someone knows about Alana’s darkest secret, and they’re using it to extort her. She’s hemorrhaging money just to keep her blackmailer quiet and avoid going to prison—or worse, losing her millions of admirers—but she’s a certified girlboss. She just needs a few more followers to secure the brand deal that would set her for life and bury her secrets for good.

But when an AI-generated video depicting Alana screaming racist slurs goes viral, the social media empire she’s killed herself to build topples overnight. Someone is out to destroy her, but who? Was it Matt, her cheating husband, who she was forced to kick out after his mistress threatened to go public? Or Charlie, her more successful competitor, who secretly despised that Alana’s career was so close to eclipsing hers? Or Zay, the millionaire boyfriend she’s manipulating for his money and whom she suspects is not being entirely truthful himself?

Alana’s been doxxed, dragged into bar fights, and forced to wield hammers against strange men, all while trying to conduct a frantic investigation that is pointing her nowhere. CNN is broadcasting her face to the entire country, and her income has been effectively slashed. If she doesn’t come up with the money for her blackmailer’s most recent demand, her life as she knows it is over. But Alana’s desperation to clear her name and return to her well-deserved spotlight bleeds into a budding obsession with Charlie, whose career begins rising every inch that hers has fallen. When all signs inexplicably point to the one person who stands to gain everything Alana has lost, she realizes that justice is nothing compared to revenge.

[I'll insert bio and thanks to the agent here]

With the bio, this comes to 431 words.

I finally finished my novel draft and would like to start querying process. I spent some time revising the query letter by looking on successful ones, before posting it for critique here... So yeah, I would like to get some feedback and maybe some advice:) Thank you!

Dear (Agent),

I am seeking representation for BLOODY MARY – a 95,000-word Upper YA Gothic Fantasy with strong adult crossover appeal. Featuring an own-voices neurodivergent heroine, this standalone story with series potential combines the dangerous vampire bond and dark-academia setting of Tigest Girma’s Immortal Dark with the uncanny body horror of Krystal Sutherland’s House of Hollow and the folklore-haunted atmosphere of Ava Reid’s A Study in Drowning.

Almost-seventeen-year-old Yukako Amane enrols at St Maria’s Academy to fulfil her father’s deathbed wish. Carrying her old sewing kit, her father’s journal, and inner cynicism forged by years of school bullying, she hopes to hide from a cruel reality behind stacks of cotton. But an encounter with Akura, an arrogant vampire, shatters any remaining hopes for a peaceful school life.

When Akura forces her to open her mouth in a twisted test, instinct takes over and Yukako bites him. By tasting a vampire’s blood, she accidentally awakens an ancient Blood Bond that crowns her his master. From now on, Akura’s body is compelled to obey her every command, yet this power comes at a harrowing price: the vampire can only survive on his mistress’s blood. The secret feeding pact slowly turns into a narcotic solace, entangling desire with hunger, power and dependency – and blurring the line between protection and possession.

Appointed lead designer for the Academy’s festival fashion show alongside Shin, an unpredictable vampire connected to her childhood, Yukako begins to uncover the secrets surrounding her father’s suspicious death and the truths hidden in his vampire novels. Meanwhile, an unseen attacker armed with lavender poison hunts her through the corridors and the images embroidered on her fabric take on a life of their own.

Caught between the Academy’s sinister mysteries and a growing attachment to Akura that threatens to destroy them both, Yukako must confront the true cost of the Blood Bond and her father’s game before the curtain rises on a crimson-soaked runway – where she herself is cast as the final offering.

Born in Eastern Europe and now based in (), I write under the pen name Naomi Kin. BLOODY MARY is my debut novel, grown out of my love for Gothic architecture, psychology and Victorian surrealism, while drawing on my own lived experience with AuDHD to shape Yukako’s neurodivergent perspective.

(personalisation for the agent)

Thank you for your time and consideration!

Sincerely,

Naomi Kin

Thank you to all who provided feedback! I have tried my best to synthesize the information provided, and I feel more comfortable with the query writing process with each subsequent draft! Here, I give my MC more agency in the story, and I have refined the most important plot points. Please let me know what you think!

-------------------

Dear XX Agent,

Raised under sterile lights and synthetic skies, botanist Sienna Aster manages the agricultural lab used to feed humanity’s three remaining world-ships. Unbeknownst to the public, though, is that these crops are failing, and nothing Sienna can do will prevent new diseases from mutating.

Sienna’s only salvation lies in Project Phaethon, a colonization mission to a nearby planet rumored to hold arable land. Even though it means risking death, she seizes the opportunity to walk on a terrestrial world.

But when the mission is forced to launch early due to a firestorm, Sienna watches in horror as her world-ship succumbs to the flames. Burdened with the loss of her sister, Sienna is determined to secure a future for the rest of humanity.

After a grisly landing, however, it becomes clear that this planet is no paradise. Sienna’s survival is threatened by every encounter with native fauna, and she can’t shake her distrust for Dr. Cassius Vern, the mission’s increasingly cruel leader.

At first, Sienna turns a blind eye to Vern’s disregard for native life, desperately trying to convince herself that her priority is studying the native flora—no matter the means. In her spare moments, she finds solace in Clara Lim, a guarded, alluring cartographer haunted by her past.

But when Vern’s ruthlessness endangers the lives of the crew, exposing a sinister second phase of Project Phaethon, Sienna can no longer look away. With the world-ships’ final food reserves dwindling, Sienna and Clara must race to dismantle Vern’s conspiracy before he dooms the human race to extinction.

I am pleased to present GEOCIDE, an adult sci-fi novel complete at 96000 words with series potential. Balancing a character- and setting-driven narrative with a sweet sapphic romance, it will appeal to fans of Sue Burke’s Semiosis trilogy and Cold Eyes by Peter Cawdron.

I currently study Ecology and Evolutionary Biology at XX University, and when I’m not conducting ecological research, I am an avid birder and orchestral composer.

I have attached X and X for your review, and this would be my first published work. Thank you for your time!

Dear AGENT NAME,

You can’t outrun what you are, even with a tab on your tongue and a bassline shaking the floor. Banba has been giving it a good go.

She’s twenty, out of the care system, and good at forgetting. She walks the long way round to work, past the university she never applied to. She pours coffee on Botanic Avenue, because it’s hard to fail at pouring coffee. And coffee doesn’t ask where you’re from. In Belfast, everyone else does, which really means: What are you? Which side are you on? Banba has never had an answer.

Then a tab goes wrong, and she’s standing in a bog, reaching for a woman buried to the waist and screaming without a sound. By morning, her three-quid spider plant is dead. Within days, Belfast is rotting.

And Banba discovers the rot has a name: Carman, a sorceress the old gods chained in a Wexford field and held there with memory. People forgot. Banba could have told them how easy that is. Now Carman is coming for everyone Banba loves, starting with Charlotte, the closest thing she had to a mother, found dead in the back of her own café with black around her mouth.

A book tells her about a goddess called Banba, left with no kin, no home and no roots. It reads like her file. So maybe that’s her answer. She’s the land. The bit they’re all fighting over.

Banba tries summoning a god for help and instead gets a dagger that won’t let anyone lie. She also finds a completely unhelpful sister trapped in a lake. And then there’s Ciarán, the guitarist who turns her damp flat into a Christmas grotto and makes her think that this time, someone might stay. To stop Carman, she’ll have to find a way to bind her again.

BANBA is an adult dark fantasy novel with a romantic subplot, complete at 80,000 words, set in late 1995, the last winter of the IRA ceasefire. It’s for readers of Alix E. Harrow’s STARLING HOUSE and C.J. Cooke’s THE GHOST WOODS, with Derry Girls humour.

I’m an Irish writer and traditional musician who grew up on council estates in Northern Ireland in the 90s, and much like Banba, I’ve also eaten a Pot Noodle with a toothbrush. This is my debut novel. Thanks for your time.

Best wishes,

NAME

Third attempt below. I know word count is very low for a debut, but I'm going to try and publish this as a novella with a niche horror press instead of trying to double it with filler.

~

Dear [EDITOR]

PERSONAL CONNECT SENTENCE THAT EXPLAINS WHY I WANT TO QUERY THEM

For someone who studies death for a living, Amy Hirai has been surprisingly rattled by her fiancée’s overdose. In a desperate attempt to keep her life moving, she takes a temp teaching job and crashes at her semi-estranged brother's guest house in Tokyo. It's not the exact same house her emotionally abusive grandfather used to live in, but it's tough to enjoy that when the new one is on the same lot, and there's an altar dedicated to him in the living room. When she discovers his war diary from World War II, she assumes it could be the centerpiece of her coursework in genocide studies. What she doesn't assume is what reading it will do to her already fragile sanity. She starts seeing a ghostly version of her adolescent self in the faces of strangers, blacks out for hours on end, and is kept awake at night by the sounds of terrified children screaming from the living room downstairs.

As she continues translating the entries, hoping to develop a career-defining course on it for the following semester, the hauntings intensify with each new macabre detail she learns about her grandfather's past. Unsure if she’s being tortured by her mind or something supernatural, she’s faced with an unthinkable dilemma: ignore the truth and lose the biggest opportunity of her career, or expose her grandfather's war crimes and risk losing her freedom, her family, and her entire grip on reality.

BOX OF STONES is a literary horror novella complete at 46,000 words. It combines the dark yurei-style haunted house elements of Nothing But Blackened Teeth by Cassandra Khaw with the multi-generational folk-horror themes of Kylie Lee Baker's Japanese Gothic.

I felt a need to write this book due to the distinct relationship my life has had with the material. I'm the direct descendant of an Indonesian child survivor of Japanese war crimes during WWII, and yet I've also lived in the exact neighborhood of Tokyo where this story was set while studying at the exact university where the protagonist teaches. Given the alarming forces pushing atrocity denial into the mainstream, this project is designed to hold that historical revisionism accountable in a format that horror readers will understand and identify with.

Please find my submission below in accordance with the guidelines posted on your website/queryme/etc. Thank you for your time and consideration, and I look forward to hearing from you.

Best,

-NAME

Hello,

I came across a submission requirement for an agency that was as follows:

"For fiction submissions, send an informative description, a brief synopsis and the first ten pages. Please include the sample pages in the body of the email below your query."

Can I take this to assume the "informative description" is the query, and the brief synopsis is the 500-1000 word single-space synopsis? And more largely, do agencies use different language to speak to the same request?

For those who queried, did you run into this often? I saw this particular agency do it, so I was curious if I can expect these minor syntax differences throughout or if it's quite standard.

I looked over the wiki and resources, and couldn't seem to find the answer to this. If this is answered elsewhere, happy to take this down.

Thank you

Dear [Agent],

THE ROAD STILL OPEN is an adult alternate-history novel, complete at approximately 93,000 words, and the first book of a planned trilogy. It combines the altered history and political suspense of Francis Spufford’s CAHOKIA JAZZ with the wry treatment of government power and speculative invention in Kaliane Bradley’s THE MINISTRY OF TIME.

Karolina Radecka has persuaded a gun to stop firing. Persuading the officers to stop calling her invention a toy takes longer.

It is September 1854. The Polish instrument maker has followed the Allied invasion to Crimea with a machine that suppresses exposed gun ignition for eleven seconds. Meryem, a Crimean Tatar provisioner, brings a survey of Sevastopol’s unfinished northern defences. Karolina intends to open the road and become rather difficult to remove from her invention.

Then a Russian observer finds its weakness. A shot from a shielded rifle strikes the grounding chain, burning her operator’s hands. Karolina tracks the countermeasures and captures engineer Nikolai Zorin. Here, at last, is an opponent worth arguing with. Regrettably, he is using his ingenuity to keep her army out of his city. Officers propose making him work on the machine. She refuses, and resents the answers she has just denied herself.

She is less scrupulous with Meryem. Karolina names her guide’s father in the orders, counting on commanders needing his family for the road and her for the machine. She knows soldiers may find the house. They begin dismantling its wall for artillery. Meryem blocks the gun road with her cart.

Russian crews keep finding ways to fire, including burning fuses her machine cannot extinguish. As the advance reaches Sevastopol, Nikolai names a route around an ambush and asks how she mends her machine. Karolina can use his warning without answering. Unfortunately, she has been waiting for someone capable of appreciating the answer. Giving him the method for bracing a frame under load could let Russian workmen mend their own machinery even if the Allies take the city. It could also give her commanders grounds to bar her from using her own invention.

It combines the altered history and political suspense of Francis Spufford’s CAHOKIA JAZZ with the wry treatment of government power and speculative invention in Kaliane Bradley’s THE MINISTRY OF TIME.

Thank you for your consideration.

[Author Bio]

It's been a hot second since I posted the last version of my query. I made some edits and would love any feedback. Thank you in advance!

Dear [Agent]

I am seeking representation for MERROW, a standalone adult fantasy complete at 108,000 words. I think you might be interested in this project as it [personalization]. It will appeal to fans of TJ Klune’s UNDER THE WHISPERING DOOR and Julie Leong’s THE TELLER OF SMALL FORTUNES.

Nerissa isn’t aging. Others insist it’s a gift, but there isn’t much to live for after her fiancé died in a work accident decades ago. Only routine keeps her from drowning in grief and years. So when a party invitation arrives from Blanche Child, the prominent Witch whom Nerissa believes covered up the true cause of her fiancé’s death, it’s an easy no. 

Then she sees Blanche on the news, smiling and surrounded by family. Unable to accept Blanche happily moving on while she’s left behind to mourn, Nerissa RSVPs yes. Three days are nothing compared to the centuries ahead of her. This party is her chance to prove her suspicions of foul play and tarnish Blanche’s public perception. 

Uncovering information at the party isn’t simple. The Child family guard their secrets well behind a mask of philanthropy, and Nerissa’s social skills are rusty, but she strikes a tentative alliance with Blanche’s son. In exchange for borrowing her fiancé’s engagement band, he reveals that it’s engraved with a communication sigil, that her fiancé was trying to help him escape, and how he really died. 

Truth isn’t proof. Nerissa must follow in her fiancé’s footsteps, risking Blanche’s wrath by helping her son escape in order to obtain evidence of her crimes. With every choice leading Nerissa to a new experience in the world and life she denied herself for so long, time has never moved so quickly, and the monotonous future she thought she wanted might not be as tempting as the one she could still have.

[Bio]

All the best,
[Name]

Link to my first attempt:

https://www.reddit.com/r/PubTips/comments/1vof7re/qcrit_merrow_adult_fantasy_108k_1st_attempt/

Link to my second attempt:

https://www.reddit.com/r/PubTips/comments/1vupw7e/qcrit_merrow_adult_fantasy_108k_2nd_attempt/

Hello! This is my 3rd attempt at a query letter. I received some great feedback on my last 2 attempts, and I've made significant changes to this version. I've now decreased my proper noun count to 3 and focused on a single POV rather than splitting between 2.

1st attempt: https://www.reddit.com/r/PubTips/comments/1wt2c2b/qcrit_beyond_the_light_of_god_epic_fantasy_adult/

2nd attempt:

https://www.reddit.com/r/PubTips/comments/1x03hz1/qcrit_beyond_the_light_of_god_epic_fantasy_adult/

Dear [Agent],

BEYOND THE LIGHT OF GOD is a 115,000‑word epic fantasy novel. It will appeal to readers of Richard Swan’s The Justice of Kings and John Gwynne’s The Shadow of the Gods, blending morally complex characters, mythic forces, and the brutal realities of war.

Linias has devoted his life to becoming one of the empire’s elite warriors, bound body and soul to the Stargod. Eager to prove himself, he joins a campaign to crush the Furos tribes, bestial, wolf-like creatures, resisting imperial rule in a vast, haunted forest. Subjugating them would restore his disgraced family’s honour and prove his worth to the divine power he serves.

But when a reconnaissance mission ends in a brutal ambush, Linias is left wounded and alone, deep within enemy territory. While forced to rely on the very people he'd vowed to destroy, he encounters the reluctant heir to the last free human nation. She was sent to the Furos to forge an alliance with them before both of their peoples are conquered by the empire. As her friendship with Linias deepens, she claims that the Stargod is no benevolent deity but rather a predatory god whose arrival doomed the world centuries ago. Initially determined to dismiss her warnings as falsehoods, Linias begins to suspect that everything he's devoted his life to was built on lies.

Wracked with doubt, Linias must choose between the faith that shaped him and a rebellion that sees him as the enemy. If he can't bring himself to defy the Stargod and help unite the last nations still defying the empire, he may well deliver the world into the arms of the god he once worshipped.

I hold a Bachelor of Arts degree in Psychology, which I put to great use while working in the IT department for an insurance company. I currently reside in the windswept [LOCATION] prairies with my wife, twin girls, and two cats.

My fiction has recently appeared in [PUBLICATION NAME], [PUBLICATION NAME], and [PUBLICATION NAME]. My short story, [STORY NAME], received an honourable mention for the [AWARD NAME].

Thank you for your time and consideration.

Hello! I'm actively querying and wondering if anything stands out. Thank you in advance for your time.

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QUERY

I'd like to introduce A WINTER’S QUEST, a singular yet deeply relatable coming-of-age story set in the early 2000s that stands complete at roughly 73,000 words. Teenager Sarah Morris is part of a live-action roleplaying (LARP) group; pretending to be a vampire is a glorious escape from at-times harsh reality. Until it really, really isn’t. A nostalgic but universal YA jaunt, A WINTER'S QUEST takes place in the early 2000s, but its appeal transcends senior millennials: it's for anyone whose interests have been considered uncool, especially if you took them a little too seriously. Through a character-focused hero's journey, A WINTER'S QUEST demonstrates the power and pitfalls of having a very real fantasy life.

Sometimes you need to play undead to feel alive, or at the very least survive high school.There’s nothing like the promise of playing a vampire to get SARAH MORRIS through the day, eventually graduate with the class of 2003, and hopefully leave for somewhere better than Minnesota. Sarah’s kind of goth and low-key smart, but it’s only at her monthly LARP event that she really shines. Every fourth Saturday, she dons a cape and fangs and becomes Anastasia Nox, a beautiful and powerful vampire. The LARP offers camaraderie and escape, even if some of the players are creepy and sexist – it’s still a sanctuary from popular girls and jocks. It also gives her a chance to be around her crush; when Sarah’s not playing Anastasia, she can’t take her eyes off RYAN, whose sardonic humor and brooding good looks make her secretly swoon.

Her attraction only grows when Ryan breaks the rules and brings a very real sword to their playacting, and they begin a passionate affair (also, Sarah’s only affair). Meanwhile, real life rears its head: her relationship with her best friend MAI becomes strained and the ongoing fights with her abusive father and passive mother get ugly. When her romance with Ryan goes south, Sarah steals his sword and makes a plan to win him back. Unsurprisingly, the plan falls through. It’s only with the help of her real friends and a road trip to the wilds of Duluth that she can set things right – and maybe forge an identity that brings in all the people she only dares play at being. 

 A WINTER’S QUEST draws on the thoughtful, personal look at obsessions and growing up that characterizes Fangirl by Rainbow Rowell, the thin line between a persona and personality depicted in Eliza and Her Monsters by Francesca Zappia, and how our dark loves form our lens on the world illustrated by My Heart is a Chainsaw by Stephen Graham Jones. Sarah lives at a historical point in nerd culture where it is still somewhat nascent and alternative – before vampires were cool and superheroes dominated the box office – and takes sanctuary in being an outsider. Through the course of A WINTER’S QUEST, she learns that what and who you love are not always what they seem, but those desires can light your path.  

 [Bio and sign off]

Dear (agent),

What happens when you marry the monster you always wanted to be?

As heir to the throne of Imara, Margaha considers her worthiness self-evident. The gods fated her to rule, after all, and they are not in the habit of making mistakes. But the gods aren’t the only ones with an opinion on who should wear the crown, and there are those who see her pride and ego as dangerous flaws.

On the journey to marry her consort, Margaha’s carriage is attacked by a monster, and her companions killed. The sole weapon she carries is the marriage ring, enchanted with a bonding spell to forever tie her to her betrothed. Instead, it ties her to the monster, Varas, whose bloodlust now races through her own veins.

When she arrives at the house of the man she was supposed to marry, he seems suspiciously undisturbed by the danger she was in, and furious at how she escaped it. But she has weapons now—a knife snatched from one of the corpses, and a monster waiting in the woods for night to fall and the household to lie sleeping.

If the gods favor her with luck, she might be able to hide her new consort’s strangeness and the blood on her own hands. But when she returns to the palace, she’s met with disaster. Her father, the king, is dying, and the palace is in turmoil with rumors of infidelity and treason.

With Varas’s volatility eroding her restraint, Margaha sees potential traitors everywhere she looks, reaching greedily for the crown that should be hers. It’s easy to justify their deaths, at first. But the eyes of a kingdom can’t be fooled forever. She is being closely watched by the real traitors, who are eager to use her misbehavior as evidence that she isn’t fit to rule.

Faced with her own most violent desires, Margaha must choose between her life’s goal, to be Imara’s greatest leader—or to become its greatest monster.

The Second Hunger is a 75,000 word dark fantasy novel with elements of horror and romance and a setting inspired by pre-Islamic Persia. It will appeal to readers of (comp) and (comp).

FIRST 300:

His hands were red. Red, darkening to brown already where the cold morning air met his skin. The sky was gray still, the sun not quite risen over the bare hills.

It seemed it would never rise.

Pelor lay on her side, her chest still moving in shallow breaths. The dirt beneath her was drenched with her blood. She was only a little cow, the color of pale dust, with eyes that had stared blankly out at the world every day for years without any curiosity. She had not been any great creature. Compared to the enormous cattle that roamed the richer farms of the neighbors, she was nothing, too old, too small, too bony. But her one meager cup of milk every morning, split between him and his ever-increasing number of siblings, had been sweeter than cream.

At any rate, whether she was grand or not, she had not deserved to die like this. No creature did. Pathetic and trembling and in pain.

Varas moved towards her, reaching his hands out.

“Pelor,” he said, his voice soft and strange to his ears.

She twitched and startled. Her legs moved uselessly to get away. Despite the great gash torn into her neck, she was still half-conscious, and her wide nostrils flared in fear and her ears drew back as he came near.

He dropped to his knees, sick with what he’d done, and did not come closer.

He couldn’t remember doing it. But it must have been him. The taste was too bitter in his mouth for him to pretend otherwise.

COMMENTS (not part of first 300 please don’t remove haha):

Initial query attempts here were posted under a different title—Blood Red, Saffron Yellow. Query has been changed to reflect feedback received and hopefully is stronger on this try!

The first 300 are from a prologue, while the actual first chapter is from Margaha’s POV—I’m not sure what the standard is when your query centers around a main character that doesn’t show up in the prologue and if it would be wiser to just go with chapter one for that. Any feedback much appreciated, thank you all 💛

Hi! I'm wrapping up revisions and hoping to take this project to the trenches soon. I'd love some eyes on this query. I really like these comps, but I'm worried they are a little old. I'm considering Star Stripes and Summer Nights, Love Action Canter, and maybe the forthcoming Three Chances to Fall in Love.

Dear Agent,

To save her family’s Mackinac Island inn, Maren stars in a Bridgerton-esque TV show filming on the island opposite an arrogant teen heartthrob. When the show’s future is at risk, she teams up with him to save it.

ACTING INN LOVE is a standalone contemporary YA Romance complete at 87,000 words. It’s the coastal summer setting and exploration of grief found in KL Walther’s Summer of Broken Rules meets the backstage love story and complicated father-daughter relationship of Jenna Welch’s Love & Olives. 

17-year-old Maren Patterson will do anything to save her family’s Mackinac Island inn. Once her late mother’s dream incarnate, the bed-and-breakfast fell into debt and disrepair as her father’s grief turned to alcoholism. When a Bridgerton-esque TV show comes to film on the island, their offer to shoot at the inn seems like her saving grace. Until Maren meets Emmett Larson, the star of the season, whom she can’t stop butting heads with. When the director finds Maren and Emmett in the middle of a heated but flirty argument, she offers Maren a role opposite Emmett.

Emmett Larson is desperate to escape the spotlight, especially after the paparazzi caused his best friend to suffer a mental breakdown. But as the child of two Hollywood talents, he’s stuck fulfilling his parent’s expectations for his career. As Maren and Emmett’s on-screen romance leads to off-screen feelings, they start to see each other as kindred spirits both beholden to their parent’s dreams at the expense of their own well-being.

When the show is suddenly cancelled, the pair are determined to pitch the show to other networks. They’ll need to thrust their budding relationship in the spotlight, subjecting it to the media attention that Emmett is trying to escape. And, as Maren’s father’s addiction grows worse and bills go unpaid, the future of the inn feels more precarious than ever. Facing their fears, Maren and Emmett question what dreams are worth the sacrifices they make and what love they truly deserve.

{Insert Bio}

Hi! Looking for another round of feedback on my first story. I really appreciate the feedback I got from my first attempt where I was told to find more modern comps, be less vague, and refine the blocking and logistics. I've still gotten rejected from every agent, and the closest I got to a yes was that the premise was engaging, but "I struggled to connect with your writing. It didn't propel me into the story the way that I'm looking for." Any and all feedback is appreciated! Thank you so much in advance :)

-

Query Letter:

Eighteen-year-old Kara Levenson chose a new name at thirteen, the night she saw her parents murdered. Five years later, she’s a trained operative in a clandestine CIA program with one purpose: destroy Enigma, the crime syndicate responsible for their deaths.

When Enigma threatens the CIA director’s secret son, Kara is sent undercover to an elite boarding school to protect him. She agrees on one condition: once Finnian Rowe is safe, vengeance is hers.

Her alias is Kate Lawson, a perfectly ordinary transfer student who hasn’t spent the last five years learning how to lie, fight, and kill. But Finnian—a golden-boy swimmer with an infuriating habit of asking questions—makes ordinary life dangerously easy to want. He’s the first person in five years to look past Kara’s carefully constructed identities and wonder about the girl underneath.

Then Enigma infiltrates Finnian’s inner circle, forcing Kara to expose the truth about who she is to keep him alive. With Finnian’s trust shattered and her opportunity for revenge finally within reach, Kara must decide how much of herself she’s willing to sacrifice—and whether avenging the life she lost is worth destroying the one she’s only just begun to want. 

Kara Carried Me is a completed 72,000-word YA spy thriller with a central romance, combining the covert-ops tension and romance of Marie Lu’s Stars and Smoke with the dangerous secrets and deception of Karen M. McManus’s Such Charming Liars.

Snippet from opening chapter (the prologue):

There is power in a name.

I was thirteen when I shed the first one I’d been given, the one my mother and father had chosen for me. Melinda. It meant sweet. Gentle.

That was the life my parents had hoped for me.

Mom was an artist. A poet. The world never got a chance to read her stories, but they encompassed the entirety of mine. I could never sleep without one. My dad would watch from the doorway as she sat animatedly at the foot of my bed, smiling at the scene unfolding before him. She loved drama and cliffhangers and Shakespeare. Dad loved her.

All the world’s a stage, Mom would say. She was right. I remember the final act of our lives with painful clarity. Bills shoved under coupons and magazines on our kitchen table. Mildew lining windowsills from leaks in the ceiling. Unresponsive light switches on darker days.

It was almost time for another bedtime story that night. We were watching my favorite cartoon when we heard the knock at our door. Dad sat up and reached for his phone. The screen stayed black. It was late. We weren’t expecting anyone.

The knock came again.

“I know you’re home, Paul,” a voice said on the other side of our front door. It was heavy. Thick. Not sweet like Mom’s. Not full of rambunctious laughter like Dad’s.

“Paul?” Mom’s arms tightened around me. “Who is that?”

“No one important,” Dad said. He smiled at us as he stood. His hand slipped into his pocket. I knew his knife was there.

Dad stopped at the door but didn’t open it.

“You need to leave.”

“You’re late.”

“It’s Saturday.”

“It’s Sunday.”

Dad went quiet.

“You said ‘start of the week.’”

Dad forced a laugh. He had to look brave.

Hello again!

I'm about half done with my revision and am already thinking about querying. Thanks for those who responded to my last attempt -- I've ditched all the names and some of the side quest stuff and tried to get back to the basics -- what my character whats, what's in her way, etc --and I like how it reads much more. I've included my first 300 words for feedback as well.

A couple of specific questions:

• I've changed a comp to reflect the is-it, is-it-not supernatural question (The Midnight Feast by Lucy Foley). Should I be categorizing this as a supernatural thriller? Ultimately, it is not a supernatural entity behind the violence, but that isn't clear until the last few chapters.
• The opening prologue / flashback is currently too long at 4.5 pages. I'd like to get it to three or fewer, especially as the rest of the book is first person from Gemma's POV (save for a short flashback from the perspective of each girl the day of the reading, also told in third person). Mostly I'd just like some feedback on whether this is working as the opening? I love the vibe, but I'm not sure if it

Dear AGENT,

[Personalize]. WE ASKED FOR THIS tells the story of five girls who asked a witch to grant their every desire, even if it meant they’d die by forty. Reunited after the first prophesied death, they decide to confront the witch and find out if they are truly victims of her curse -- or if they’re prey for a vengeful killer. At 85,000 words, this domestic thriller with supernatural elements is perfect for fans of the maybe-supernatural elements in Lucy Foley’s The Midnight Feast, and the domestic dread of Tiffany Crum’s This Story Could Save Your Life. 

After she learns of Lizzy’s untimely but long-prophesied death, Gemma attends the funeral before launching her long-planned escape from her abusive marriage. There, she reunites with her old friends who have all reached the upper echelons of success in their chosen fields. But, like her, each is miserable in her own way. When Gemma questions the cause of Lizzy’s death, her friends argue it could be more sinister than an unnamed natural malady: it was the curse. The women decide to return to their old summer camp, find the witch, and reverse the spell, but Gemma only agrees when she realizes doing so could sever the last tie to her husband, the camp crush she wished for all those years ago.

But returning to the place where they forged their dreams surfaces more than fond memories. The witch is missing. The camp they loved is gone, replaced by a luxe resort owned by a pair of mysterious former campers. Decades of easy success and hard losses have planted secrets among Gemma’s old friends. As a storm approaches and whispers of murder turn into cries for help, Gemma will need to learn the difference between a curse and a killer before she becomes the next victim. 

I studied creative writing at Washington State University. These days, I work in nonprofit marketing and event planning. I’m grew up in the Pacific Northwest and love using the rainy, gloomy landscape as a backdrop for my stories. 

FIRST 300

THEN - The Witch

August 14, 2000, 11:25pm

The heat that baked their skin hours ago has hardly cooled by the time the girls slip out of their cabin and into the dark cover of the woods. The air is still salty and pine-scented, thick with the dregs of summer.

Stasia leads the pack, the beam of her flashlight briefly casting a glow onto the tangle of ferns and hemlock trunks before redirecting it to narrow, overgrown path at their feet. Pru and Lizzy follow, giggling with their hands clasped as they help one another over fallen logs and streams of water. Then comes Gemma, her palms slick with sweat, certain they’ll turn a corner and come upon the flashlight beam of an intrepid counselor. Beryl pads along at the rear, quietly cursing the entire endeavor.

She’s fought the plan for weeks, insisting they don’t need insight from Madame Tanith, the local fortune teller. The witch, Stasia calls her, but Beryl calls her the grifter. “Who needs magical insight when you have a plan?” she asks.

And she’s right. They don’t need magic.

They are magic.

Five girls, four summers, all magic. They’d like to keep it that way, especially as Beryl’s ambitions threaten to take her to a different camp next summer. The girls have spent these long, sticky nights huddled together, weaving a future that taps their talents and passions to change the world while keeping them connected long after their summers here end.

It will take a binding spell from Madame Tanith to seal it. She’ll look into their shared futures and glimpse the tapestry of their lives before binding it in the ancient magic that runs through her fabled veins.

 Or so says Stasia, anyway. And Pru, who believes every word Stasia says.

Hi Friends! Perhaps you can help me trim this a smidge. I know traditionally we want ~250 and this one reads closer to 350. Please provide feedback and light it on fire. My first first attempt got (rightly) deleted for being too long. Hoping this one fits closer, but now I worry it's way too generic. Plz halp.

Dear (Agent),

When were you last hugged?

Angelica Cross can answer that definitively: 6,067 days ago. A streak she intends to maintain.

By day, the thirty-two-year-old runs a wildly successful software company from her skyscraper in downtown Chicago. By night, she retreats to her secluded estate, where the only person she might see is her best friend and driver, Marshall.

Cross's carefully constructed empire is put under siege when an insurance mandates she hire personal protection to maintain coverage. This leads her to interview retired special forces operative, Elliot Stryker.

Stryker accepts the position and begins cataloging Cross’s routine using the observational skills that he once relied on to keep him alive. He quickly identifies several quirks: She flinches whenever someone gets close. Her meals are rehydrated powdered sludge. And she avoids giving away any personal information.

But, the same woman can reconstruct his redacted military record using nothing more than inference and a few names, single-handedly close multimillion-dollar deals, and compute the square root of pi in her head. To her, this isn't extraordinary. It's just Wednesday.

Her wealth makes her a target, her brain makes her an asset. What begins as professional protection becomes increasing personal as Stryker falls for her quick wit.

Meanwhile, Cross finds herself distracted by Stryker's presence—the heat of his body, the movement of muscle beneath his skin, even the way he looks at her. Despite sixteen years spent ensuring no one gets close enough to touch her, she finds herself longing.

Stryker believes rival technology firm StarTech intends to steal what Cross built. In an effort to keep her safe, Stryker investigates the part of Cross’s history that she has deliberately hidden.

CROSSED OUT, complete at 85k words, is a contemporary romance x tech thriller told in alternating first-person POV. It is the first installment in the planned DIGITAL EMPIRE trilogy, following the larger story of Cross and Stryker. It combines the bodyguard romance and intimate character focus of TWISTED GAMES with the propulsive romantic-thriller energy of THE BLONDE IDENTITY. It is also the longest lead up to a sexy calf rub that you'll (hopefully) ever read.

I want to thank both Dizzy_Hippo and JezTurner for their amazing suggestions, critiques, and advise.

here is a previous attempt Names/titles are changed for public

THE VEIN OF TOMORROW is a multi-POV space opera with horror elements, complete at 109,000 words. It’s a stand-alone with series potential that combines the militarized corruption of Emily Tesh's Some Desperate Glory, the morally grey characters of These Burning Stars by Bethany Jacobs, and the psychological dread of S.A. Barnes’ Dead Silence.

Andrew Whitaker swore he'd destroy the enemy whose starfighters bombed his Appalachian home and killed everyone he loved except his sister. For ten years, he fought the Krek across the stars. He wore the military uniform, smiled, and obeyed. In exchange, Tom Murdock, his commanding officer and best friend, promised to keep his sister hidden and safe. But the Krek don’t just kill. They assimilate their victims into their hive-mind. Andrew survived their bite when millions didn't, and now neon-green veins streak his eyes. Worse, he hears them whispering: Give in. 

When he learns scientists making a cure are in danger, Andrew agrees to lead his team to do what he does best: rescue people. Then a new type of Krek intercepts his mission. It senses him, reaches into his mind, and calls him brother. Liars, their voices whisper. They say the humans started the war and destroyed his family. They urge: Come home. And they begin to feel more like family, like everything he lost—except his sister. 

Andrew tries to ignore them, to drown them out, but it’s hard when his sister’s messages, all delivered by Tom, come less and less, and now Tom wants to experiment on the infected. Giving in would mean peace for Andrew. It would also mean betraying humanity, endangering his sister, and destroying any chance at a cure. But if the voices are right, the only thing tying him to humanity is a promise his best friend never meant to keep, and he’ll kill anyone—Krek, human, or otherwise—who harms his sister.

<<bio>>

I've flipped around some comps, torn between some. I think the John Carpenter's The Thing assimilation vibes is more aligned with my manuscript, but I have had people say use it, and other say not to since its a movie.

I've toyed with a few other starts

Version 2:
"Andrew Whitaker swore he'd kill the Krek the day starfighters bombed his Appalachian home, killing everyone he loved except his sister. For ten years, Tom Murdock, his commanding officer and best friend, has promised to keep his sister hidden and safe, and in exchange Andrew wears the military uniform, smiles, and obeys. When they say speak, he barks."

Version 3:

"In a decade-long intergalactic war, Andrew Whitaker has worn the human military uniform, smiled, and obeyed. In exchange, Tom Murdock, his commanding officer and best friend, has promised to keep his sister hidden and safe from the Krek."

Hello! I've received amazing critiques from this subreddit before, so I'm excited to hear what y'all think of my query! I'm hoping to start pitching this story quickly so that it'll be perfect for the holiday season. (I'm aware that publishing takes a long time, so I'm hoping that pitching a year in advance will mean that it'll be ready to release for next year's holiday season.)

Dear ,

I hope this email finds you well. I’m seeking representation for The 24 Gifts of Christmas, an MM Christmas romance completed at 53,000 words. This story is perfect for fans of the cozy holiday romance aspects of The Lights on Knockbridge Lane and the grumpy-meets-sunshine dynamic of One Week to Win the Chocolate Maker.

Nathan Sharpe despises Christmas. 

He has a lot to hate about the holiday season: the bright, strobing lights, the cheesy music, the cold Chicago weather, the holiday traffic, the extra workload at his awful job, his flaky coworker… His failed engagement that dissolved right before Christmas the year before… 

Unfortunately for him, he lives next door to the personification of Christmas itself, Daniel Murphy. Upon hearing Nathan’s disdain for his favorite holiday, Daniel takes on the challenge to make Nathan fall in love with Christmas, one gift at a time. 

The gifts start off small: a candy cane on Nathan’s doorknob, a hand-drawn card, a thermos of homemade hot chocolate. But as the two men get to know each other, bonding over coffee and witty banter, Nathan finds himself falling in love with a lot more than Christmas, if only he can put the past behind him before it ruins another year’s holiday season. 

[Bio and Sign-off]

Thank you in advance!

I am seeking representation for THE FALL OF BLUMAWAY PLACE (~97,000 words), an upmarket psychological suspense with very grounded paranormal elements, as in Liane Moriarty’s HERE ONE MOMENT. This slow-burn book club mystery contains interstitial “case notes” and mini-narratives from a child’s POV, blending the pacing of Amy Tintera’s LISTEN FOR THE LIE with the warmth and humor of Sally Hepworth’s MAD MABEL. 

Holly Dunaway, a floundering second-career therapist, never expected to hear from Brian Blumentritt again – the man's been dead for twenty-three years. But as she tours the recently-opened Catskills’ family camp on the grounds where her father-figure passed long ago, she meets Ingrid, a psychic medium who claims to be channeling Brian from the "other side." And according to Ingrid, he wants Holly’s help investigating the mysterious circumstances of his death.

Mystified, Holly reports the interaction to her dad, inadvertently triggering the OCD he'd finally learned to manage. Suddenly convinced he killed Brian and blocked it out, he pleads with Holly to find answers. To save him from spiraling further, Holly infiltrates the family camp and befriends Ingrid the medium – who presents as alarmingly sane.

Holly pores over Ingrid’s scribbled “messages” from Brian, following them like leads in her undercover investigation. But her case takes a critical turn when Ingrid reveals a warning from Brian: the offender is still on site. Now Holly must lean into her (wobbly) psychoanalytic skills and make sense of her intel and scant evidence before the secrets of the woods take another victim.

I am a graduate of GrubStreet's Novel Generator program, led by novelist Annie Hartnett (The Road to Tender Hearts). I worked for several years as an advocate for adults with chronic mental illness and have my own lifelong history with OCD. With over two decades of experience in various editorial roles, I now specialize in college essay coaching at my small business, BeforeYouHitSubmit.com. My writing has appeared in The Boston Globe Magazine, Ginosko Literary Journal, and The Writing Disorder. I live in Massachusetts with my husband and three children (two human, one canine).

Thank you for your consideration.

Chapter 1: HOLLY

I’m sure there’d been signs: evidence I’d brushed off, suspicions I’d ignored, notes in my case file that would’ve told the real story, had I chosen to look. 

I confess I only saw what I wanted to see.

So, to me it was a bombshell when Henry P, 43, with moderate generalized anxiety, reported during our third Zoom therapy session that he was tired of all the breathing, that it was frankly a waste of time. 

On that dusky-pink afternoon in early June, I sat quiet, turning over his words while dead air expanded the distance between us. In the long pause, I added a slow nod, once, twice, feigning intention, as if by design I was giving his thoughts their due space. In truth, it was panic, or something very close to it. I could not lose another one. He shifted the angle of his screen, a thing to do with his hands. 

I was just about to speak, to finally respond, when a loud buzzing broke out, suddenly and mortifyingly, from the phone still sitting on my desk. I’d violated, by careless oversight, the most basic rule of modern-day therapy.

Before I could silence the damn thing, its clumsy vibration turned into a shrill ring. I swept it to the ground with the back of my hand, keeping my face neutral and steady and unfazed. “Go on, Henry,” I said, maybe too loud. “Say more about why the breathwork isn’t working for you.” Offscreen, I covered the phone with my bare feet, pushing it under the desk, cupping it, pressing it, into my soles. I was the mullet of professionalism, cool control on screen, pure chaos from the neck down.

Thank you in advance for any feedback. I also may swap upmarket/literary positioning depending on what agent I’m pitching, if that counts for anything.

Dear Agent,

THERE IS NO THERE THERE is a 76k-word dual POV upmarket novel that is Sally Rooney’s Normal People against the backdrop of the opioid epidemic in the American South. 

When her semi-estranged dad has a sudden heart attack, Chloe returns to her small hometown in North Carolina somewhat against her will. Named the executor of his estate, she swaps her meaningful Peace Corps work in Ethiopia for familial duty and running into classmates from high school. Chloe wants nothing more than to leave again. She is hoping to silence her annoyingly self-indulgent ennui when she meets Forrest at a bar one night. 

A corporate dropout, Forrest is working as a bartender and trying to kick a pretty inconvenient, mostly hidden, painkiller addiction. Forrest’s humor and charm provide an antidote to the mundanity of death, while Chloe’s drive and empathy offer him the hope of change. They start dating and decide to move to New York together if Chloe gets into grad school. Then Forrest overdoses one night, bringing all his carefully concealed skeletons to the surface and turning their relationship on its head. 

While Forrest undergoes the extremely fun process of getting clean, Chloe is confident she can help him. After all, she did serve as a health volunteer in a developing country. This savior complex worsens her mental health and causes her to miss application deadlines. When Forrest goes on a bender and nearly ruins her brother’s wedding, she realizes she may not be able to help him. And Forrest realizes how close to death he could be. To get out, to get anywhere other than there, they must let each other go. But relinquishing control is rarely so easy. 

With similar themes found in Blue Sisters by Coco Mellors, the novel explores the transformative complexities of relationships, reverse culture shock, and the illusion of choice. 

I have a master’s degree in specialized journalism from the University of Southern California and my nonfiction has been published in National Geographic, Bustle, Narratively, and more. I currently live in _____ with my husband and two-year-old, _______. When I’m not writing or reading, I love traveling and long-distance running. Thank you for your time!

thank you for your time!

----------------------

My novel _________________ (80k, Adult, Fantasy) is what you’d get if Jim Butcher wrote dark academia while reading The Canterbury Tales. It is for readers of Emily Tesh’s THE INCANDESCENT in tone and wit and Benjamin Liar’s THE FAILURES in stakes and direction.

When the Halloran clan loses a disastrous war, the world’s kingdoms demand that it enroll its young adults in a school that is part military academy, part re-education camp. Niamh is the first apprentice sent under this arrangement. 

Niamh is not a war criminal, despite her clan’s reputation. She is a devoted daughter, an experienced huntress, a pillar of her people. She would much rather wander deer trails than walk the long, straight hallways of the Academy. She is competent, dutiful, and direct—and very, very homesick. 

The Academy has a purpose for her, as it does for all its students. It levies young adults from all over the world to prepare them to fight the Devourer, a nightmare beast of teeth and shadow, which rent the world once and threatens to return. Under the direction of the avuncular Chancellor Marcus, the only survivor of the previous expedition, Niamh must learn to fight and hunt this primordial evil. 

In service to her people, and perhaps to the world, Niamh feels compelled to remain, but she is beset by critical problems. Attacked on the first day of school, she inadvertently reveals her war criminal family to the student body, and this leaves her with few friends and fewer allies. Despite doing everything her teachers tell her, her magic begins to fail her. Soon, her one solace in the Academy is a magical book that begins to fill with stories of the world—and many dark secrets.

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First 300:

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Unlike any uniform in the history of the Academy, Niamh’s came with a book wrapped in a curse. 

She absently flipped through it. Every page was blank—and yet full of life. Somehow a presence came through, strong yet gentle, kind yet fierce. It might have been righteous, or it might have been furious, but it compelled her. Like an old, dangerous friend. She slipped it into the right pocket of the black underrobe. 

Troubled by the book, she grabbed at the parchment. Program of Studies, it said, with all the information a first-year apprentice might need. It may as well go on the inside pocket of her blue outerrobe. Affording it a glance, she resigned herself to its procedures with a heavy sigh—then on it appeared, in uneven scrawl, scratched in a blackened stain, a simple curse. 

DIE, TRAITOR

Seeing this, she kept its magic far from her heart.  

#

At the cobblestone heart of the Academy, Colin slumped, slouching forward in his chair, and stared at nothing. His hand fell limp. The Opening Day apprenticeship celebration would be a fine diversion, if he could ever get to it. Even now he heard the music more faintly than he would like, felt its rhythm course through his veins, tasted the buttery pastry handed him last year by Miss Viola Krause, whose dark, flowing hair brushed against his shoulder—

He pulled himself back and regarded the table. Again. On it was a large stack of the first-year Program of Studies pamphlets. Anyone stuck with his job on opening day could recite it within an hour. Of the hundreds of first years, dozens wanted the cursed thing read to them. Did they not learn maps wherever they came from? Could they not read a clock? The big one in the courtyard commons was loud enough.