How To Write a Killer Query Letter — Part 2
The Overview. This is the longest and most important part of your query letter (typically 100 to 200 words). To quote well-known agent Andrea Somberg, “There are three things you absolutely need to include in your query letter …: (1) Who is the protagonist? (2) What is the conflict? (3) What is at stake?” There are the Three C’s again, and they belong in the Overview section.
Here’s another way of formulating those same questions, which may be even clearer: (1) Who is the protagonist? (2) What do they want? (3) What’s stopping them from getting it? (4) What will it cost them if they fail? Either way, your Overview pretty much tracks the following script:
My novel (1) starts with this interesting character, and (2) places him in this intriguing scenario, which (3) confronts him with the following problem, and (4) the stakes are high.
1. What makes your protagonist interesting? Tell us a few things that makes your main character different and interesting. If possible, don’t just use adjectives; instead, illustrate those traits by finding a colorful way to describe an action or a key choice. For example, suppose Jodie is a longtime accountant who decides to change careers by becoming an artist. When describing how this decision alters her life, you might say that on her 50th birthday, she traded in her conservative gray pant suits for colorful pillbox hats, matching four-inch heels, and sculpting chisels. Or, instead of saying Natalie “risks everything to start her own business,” tell us that she quit her job, mortgaged her house, and drained her 401k to buy the coffee shop she’s always dreamed of owning. See the difference? Here’s how I described my protagonist:
Meet Max, a brilliant lawyer with schizophrenia…. He’s resourceful, fights for his clients, and always thinks two steps ahead. He has bounced back so strong, hardly anyone knows that he still hears venomous voices in his head.”
Instead of saying he’s smart (adjective), I illustrated his smarts by describing an action: “he always thinks two steps ahead.” Instead of saying he’s dedicated (adjective), I described another action that shows his dedication: he “fights for his clients.” Instead of saying he’s resillient (adjective), I tell you “he has bounced back strong” (action).
Here’s another example from a query letter I like very much. This one was written by Hank Phillippi Ryan for the first novel in his Charlotte McNally series:
PRIME TIME introduces Charlotte McNally, a hip and attractive fifty-something journalist who’s facing some life-changing challenges. She’s smart, successful and devoted to Italian clothing designers—but … even though she’s won a row of Emmys for her investigative reporting, … she’s worried her news director is about to replace her with a younger model.
“Devoted to Italian clothing designers” is more impactful than saying “fashion-conscious.” Likewise, telling us that she’s “won a row of Emmys” adds more flavor than merely saying, “she’s been successful.” Here’s another great example, this time from Kristi Belcamino:
Gabriella Giovanni has never met a man more exciting than a murder. Her big Italian-American family can’t understand why Gabriella chooses her adrenaline-pumping career as a San Francisco Bay Area newspaper reporter over being married with little bambinos running around. Instead, Gabriella spends her days flitting in and out of other people’s nightmares and then walking away unscathed, like a teenager exiting the haunted house at the fair. That’s partly because for twenty years, Gabriella’s managed to avoid confronting her own dark childhood memories: her sister’s kidnapping and murder.
Doesn’t Gabriella sound interesting?
2. What is Your Story’s Main Conflict? Briefly summarize the first 25% of your plot (approximately). Tell us about the inciting incident and the problem it creates for your main character. What do they want, and what’s standing in their way?
In a nutshell, set the stage by describing a scenario that sounds intriguing—and then stop. Do not tell us what happens later. If you follow the three act structure, you’re basically describing Act One. Here’s a great example from Stephanie Wrobel’s query letter, summarizing the premise of her novel, DARLING ROSE GOLD. The first paragraph describes her main character (brilliantly, IMO). The second paragraph is what we’re focusing on here, setting the stage by describing the main conflict. The final paragraph hints at what’s to come later in the story:
Rose Gold Watts believed she was sick for eighteen years. She thought she needed the feeding tube, the surgeries, the wheelchair. Turns out her mom, Patty, is a really good liar.
After five years in prison, Patty gets out. Mother and daughter agree to move in together and let go of old grievances. Patty says all she wants is to reconcile with Rose Gold and care for her infant grandson. But Rose Gold knows her mother. She won’t rest until she has Rose Gold back under her thumb. Which is a smidge inconvenient, because Rose Gold wants to be free of Patty forever.
Only one Watts can get her way.
Please notice, all she did is set up the scenario: mother manipulated daughter for years, and daughter is determined not to let it happen again. To make this premise more intriguing, she added a few tidbits about what happens in the beginning of the story: Mother gets out of prison, then moves in with her daughter and infant grandson. But then it stops. This query letter doesn’t describe a single thing that either character does to the other later in the book, after Patty gets out of jail and moves in. That’s how a good query letter works (a great one, in this case). Here’s another example, this time from my query letter:
One day, his high school sweetheart reappears, twenty years after their bitter falling-out. Widowed by a mass shooting, she hires Max to sue the weapon’s manufacturer. But Crystal is no longer the girl next door, she’s a movie star trying to take down a powerful corporation—the one with secrets worth killing for. Her case thrusts Max into the limelight, threatening to expose his mental illness and destroy his career. And then the cover-up escalates, people are killed, and Crystal is arrested for murder.
The first two sentences cover my inciting incident (decades after Max last saw Crystal, she reappears and hires him for a landmark lawsuit). The rest explains the conflicts this scenario poses: (a) he’s up against a ruthless corporation, trying to expose a secret they’ll kill to protect; (b) this high-profile case thrusts him into the spotlight, where media scrutiny could destroy him; and (c) something from their past may create tension in Max’s relationship with Crystal. That’s it. It never mentions the many plot twists that occur during the ensuing civil lawsuit, criminal investigation, and trial. The goal is to paint a fascinating scenario that whets an agent’s appetite, making them want to read the manuscript to learn what happens.
You need to strike a fine line between being too detailed versus not being detailed enough. Pure generalities won’t work. It wouldn’t be as interesting or informative if I said, “Max is neuro-diverse, but it isn’t apparent so hardly anyone knows how it affects him.” It’s more effective to fill in a few colorful details: “he lives with schizophrenia and hears venemous voices in his head.” Likewise, I didn’t just say that Crystal was “widowed by a recent tragedy” (what kind of tragedy?), I specified that it was a mass shooting. And I didn’t merely say, “she’s a celebrity” (what kind of celebrity?), nor that she’s “trying to take down a powerful opponent” (what kind of opponent? A politician? Corporation? Wealthy individual?). For the key facts that establish your scenario, it’s best to provide a few juicy details.
On the other hand, leaving a little mystery about background facts is good because agents may be curious to learn more. That’s why, for example, I refer to a “falling-out” in Crystal and Max’s past without elaborating on what happened. Stephanie Wrobel used the same technique: she mentions that Mom just got out of jail but leaves us wondering what crime she committed.
3. What are the stakes? What does your protagonist stand to gain if they succeed? Even better, what will they lose if they fail? If the stakes aren’t high enough, readers won’t care if your main character succeeds or fails. I’ve heard agents say that this is what many writers forget to put in their query letters.
Certain stakes are automatically big enough, like losing your life, losing your liberty, or finding love. Others may require context. At first blush, for example, “winning a competition” may not sound like meaningful stakes. However, if it’s an Olympic or pro athlete who sacrificed their childhood and their social life training for this one moment, and it’s their last chance, now we’re talking. Likewise, we’d care more if a parent has been skeptical of the protagonist’s career choice, and they’re desperate to make that parent proud by proving all the sacrifice was worthwhile.
It’s generally best to describe the stakes at the end of your Overview. I believe strongly in transitioning to the stakes with the word “Now” and then switching to future tense. E.g.:
And then the cover-up escalates, people are killed, and Crystal is arrested for murder. Now, convinced she’s been framed, Max must risk everything to unravel a diabolical conspiracy—but what if he’s really in bed with a killer?
Doing it this way signals that you’ve just finished describing the scenario, and now you’re moving on to what challenges remain in the rest of the story and what this journey will cost your protagonist, especially if s/he fails.
I also like ending the stakes section with an intriguing question. In my query letter, I conclude by saying: “… but what if he’s really in bed with a killer?” If you read blogs, you’ll find countless people warning to avoid rhetorical questions. That’s great advice—for the hook and the beginning of your Overview. Never use a rhetorical question in those places. But at the very end, when describing the stakes? There, it’s fine (because it’s no longer “rhetorical”; by that point, an agent will understand how this question is relevant to the story).
4. How long should the Overview section be? Between 100 and 200 words. Preferably closer to the low end of that range. If you can’t describe what makes your story interesting in 200 words, that’s a red flag. Your premise is too complicated and won’t sell.
Unfortunately, that happened with my first stab at writing a novel (titled False Witness). What made that story interesting was the sheer number of plot twists (you keep vacillating between thinking the protagonist is guilty of murder and thinking he’s innocent). It wasn’t until I tried to draft a query letter that I discovered there was no way to make my premise sound interesting in just 200 words. Why not? There was nothing unique about my protagonist, and my scenario wasn’t fresh (a wealthy married man has an affair, his mistress gets pregnant, and then she gets killed on a night they were together). The twists and turns later in the story were quite interesting (IMO), but that’s not what sells books or lands you an agent.
Why can’t you exceed 200 words? Agents are busy. If your query letter “looks” too long, many won’t invest the time necessary to read it. Also, remember the basic structure of an Overview:
My novel starts with this interesting character (A), and places him in this intriguing scenario (B), which confronts him with the following problem (C), and the stakes are high (D).
You’re trying to show the connection between several points: A + B + C + D X. When doing that, you can’t afford to go on any detours. If you spend more than a few sentences on any of A, B, C, or D, a reader will lose sight of the connections between them: how do they collectively lead to X (with X being, “This story sounds really interesting!”)? I call this the “straight line principle.” I learned it during my career as a lawyer, and it applies just as forcefully in the query letter context.
Now that you know how to craft a great Overview, it’s time to fill in the remaining sections of your query letter….