vituperation

Thanks to everyone for the feedback on the book hook in the last entry. As it turns out, even though I thought it was pretty good, agents did not.

Oh. Yeah. I finished the book and started looking for an agent. I haven’t found one yet, but I’m reasonably sure I will. The hook has gone through a couple of rewrites, and this is the one that has garnered the most interest:

Poker player Matt Freeman knows life is a gamble, so when an oncologist offers an experimental gene therapy as a possible cure for the terminal cancer killing his eleven-year-old son Andrew, he takes a chance. The treatment works, and Matt feels like he’s beaten the house. His elation is short-lived, however, because Andrew is soon killed in a freak accident.

Nearly a year later, he is still struggling with his loss when a midnight phone call begins with a single electrifying word: “Daddy?”

He races into the Nevada desert to find Andrew not only alive, but in possession of an incredible new ability and on the run from those he calls “bad people.” Now Matt must protect his son from enemies with seemingly endless resources—and the willingness to turn Las Vegas into a battle zone.

The book, currently titled No Limit, ended up being 83,000 words long. It’s on the short side, I guess, but within the 80k-120k range where thrillers normally fall. Getting started was the hardest part, because words don’t generally come easy for me. As the story took full shape in my head, it came out faster and faster. Easier, too.

One cool thing about the experience is that I noticed a huge improvement in my writing as the story progressed. I had to edit the first half WAY more than the second.

I’m biased, but I think it has a very pleasing ending. I get all giddy every time I think about it. So far, the people who have read it seem to agree. Or they’re just telling me they do.

No Limit is not literature. There ain’t no fancy writing (though I did work in one sentence containing both ‘diaphanous’ and ‘tenebrous’. also, one ’sussuration’ elsewhere) or high talkin’. It’s popcorn; a fun story with the express intent of entertaining without imparting A MESSAGE or some kind of DEEP UNDERSTANDING OF LIFE.

I’m at the next stage now. The story is edited and ready for reading. I’ve sent a total of 50 email queries to agents so far, and gotten ten outright rejections. Three additional rejections came after requests for partials (ie, 50 pages) and one request for the full manuscript from my old agent.

Who then didn’t actually read it, but instead gave it to his assistant to look at. The assistant recommended they pass. Hmph.

But that’s the bad news.

I also received a request for a full from an agency, who’s had it since Tuesday. A second agent requested 50 pages and a detailed synopsis (which I wrote in a white fury and sent about 3 hours later). This morning, based on those, she’s requested the whole thing.

And then there’s agent #3, whom I emailed the hook above yesterday afternoon. He responded in about two hours and asked for the opening chapters, so I sent him 50 pages. At the time I queried him, I could tell by his web site that he was a good agent, and was excited that I heard from him soon.

Then I started doing some research, and found out a little more. He’s apparently not a plain old “good agent,” but one of the major players — a powerhouse who sells a good number of books each year, often landing deals in the six-figure range.

Which is not to say, of course, that a first (POPCORN) novel would get anything close to that, especially in the current economy. But, the fact that the query was good enough to get the request for more from him — especially so fast — gives me hope.

I’m also very intimidated now, because of it.

It’s killing me not to be able to talk about the book with anyone but my beta readers, for the record. And God knows they’re probably tired of hearing about it.

Anyway, that’s what’s going on with me these days. I never thought I’d say this, but I kind of have a hankering to write another one. However, I’m waiting until I sell the first one (or at least have an agent who believes the first one is good enough to sell) because, let’s face it, it’s a significant investment of time. If it isn’t going to pan out, I can find other things to do, like watch the mud dry out back.

There’s this idea bubbling around in my head, though, about those creepy holes in the river floor* from my childhood, and a little dead boy who wants out…

*Check out the first two comments on that entry. Heh.