A Wonderful End to a Blunderful Querying Journey & Why I Went Small Press

My Querying Journey:

After a year in the querying trenches, I’m a little at a loss for words to describe how it feels to be leaving them with a book deal. Happy and excited just don’t seem to cut it, because the daily drain on my mental and emotional state added up considerably by the end of it. It’s a dream come true, a dream that required me to first endure the nightmare of querying in the current market. But that said, I would still hands-down recommend doing it to anyone who wants to publish, even self-publish, because…

…there’s nothing quite like being rejected over and over again without being given a reason to help you see all the flaws in your writing and give you the motivation to make it the best it can be.

When I finished writing my YA science fantasy series The Talismans of Teregrin in the fall of 2021, I knew my goal was publication. I’d pursued it half-heartedly in the past, but this time was different. This time I had a project I really believed in. This time I’d finished the series to make sure everything worked. It was time to chase the dream. I’d been to a writers’ conference and pitched a previous work in the past, so I had some background knowledge of the process. However, I decided to hire a professional editor because, even though I’d taught English and writing for several years, fiction-writing can be a different animal. I wanted to make sure I covered all my bases.

And thus began my first blunders.

At the writing conference I’d attended years prior, I’d walked away with information that YA authors couldn’t debut with a book over 70k words. This is false. While YA contemporary or other genres may have this standard, sci-fi and fantasy are usually much higher, the best-sellers usually 90-100k. But, at the time, it made sense to me. Prove yourself with a small project, and then we’ll trust you with a bigger one. I’m a colossal idiot for not checking on this. So, when I started writing my series, my first book finished under 70k. Fortunately, my editor told me that my genre allowed me to go higher than that and pointed out some places where I could add development. I finished at 75k.

I know what you’re thinking: “But, Katy, you just said 90-100k was a better range for your genre?” Oh, my friends, the blunders have only just begun.

My other problem, aside from starting with faulty information, was putting far too much stock in one person’s opinion. I went into editing with the perception that I had a lot to learn and that I would rely on the advice of the professional, but here’s the problem: Although my editor was wonderful in so many ways and I really did learn a lot from her, she lacked the knowledge of querying and traditional publishing markets that I needed. She told me my book was ready for querying, and I believed her. So, I sent out my first queries in early January of 2022.

I didn’t know how bad my query letter was, that the book was still under-developed, or that the formatting my editor had done was not standard manuscript formatting. *Face palm*

However, I will say that I had a nagging feeling in the back of my brain that the book wasn’t quite the way I wanted it. Before I made the mistake of keeping my word count too low, I was an over-writer, and I couldn’t shake the thought that there were places I’d like to flesh out more if I had the words to spare. I ignored that feeling because I’d been told the book was ready.

And now we arrive at my next blunder: Because I believed my book was good to go, I didn’t follow the typical advice of querying in batches, so you can adjust as you receive feedback. I sent them out willy-nilly as I found people who accepted my genre. After all, the more queries I sent out, the sooner I’d find the agent who loved it…right? This came back to bite me more than any other experience, and when I see new querying writers on Twitter asking for advice, this is the first thing I tell them. I’ll get to why in a moment.

After about a month of nothing but form rejections, I started to suspect something was wrong. I needed to do something different. I decided to join Twitter, since so many agents asked for handles on Query Manager. I figured it had to be important, even though I’d avoided it for years because my entire perception of Twitter came from “Mean Tweets.” I had absolutely no idea what I was doing or how to get connected. For a while, I just found and followed agents. Then I started seeing tweets from querying authors complaining about the process and felt solidarity deep in my soul. I tweeted out a hello to the writing community, told them I had no idea how to do Twitter, and said I was looking for a few querying friends to commiserate with. I ended up with five hundred, ha ha.

Joining Twitter was the beginning of turning things around for me because now I had access to information I didn’t have before about how to query. It’s how I came across a blog by a recently agented author with a title akin to “Are You Ready for Querying?” I read it mostly to give myself assurance. What I actually got was a panic attack. The great thing about this particular blog was the author spelled out word count ranges for various genres and age groups (Yes, these matter!), and that’s when I learned the word count for mine was 70-100k with a sweet spot around 90. That changed everything. That meant I could go back and finally satisfy the nagging in the back of my brain.

I opened the MS for yet another read-through to note these spots, and that’s when I noticed a writing error in the first two paragraphs of the story. Not a big deal in hindsight, but at the time, I thought the agents with my query would see it and make all sorts of terrible assumptions about me. So, over the next 24 hours I pulled 25 queries. I’d already received 25 rejections, so I was at 50. I pulled them to fix the error and do mass revisions. Even though I was later advised not to do this, I had five or six agents express appreciation for it and invite me to query again when ready. To be honest, I’d do it again, because taking a shot and submitting again seemed like a better move than settling for what I felt would be a guaranteed no.

I took the next two months to revise, do another beta read, and revise some more. I finished just in time for PitDark at the end of May. Participating in that event really helped me connect with other writers, make friends, and get invaluable feedback on pitches.

I learned my lesson and sent only a small batch of queries after this. To my good fortune, I received a personalized rejection that sent me back to revisions for another few weeks. During this time, Twitter started to buzz about problems in the publishing industry. Editors were leaving. It seemed like the industry was on fire, and I was watching from the sidelines. I learned some things during that month of revisions that caused me to change course.

For one thing, I came away with a better sense of the market. Since Covid, agents and editors have been slammed with queries from a greater number of people who were now home and had increased opportunities to write and pursue publication. So, already, not great timing on my part. For another, the YA fantasy market, in particular, is the most “over-saturated” of all the genres. People still love it, but a lot of companies have experienced losses with this category, making them less likely to acquire it than other genres. Fantastic. And finally, because each book comes with some degree of risk of not earning out, most agents/editors prefer standalone stories with series potential. Mine is not that. While the first book has resolution and the completion of a quest, the big, overarching adventure continues. But that was my vision, that was my dream, and I wasn’t going to change the story to be standalone. It wasn’t what I wanted. It was a dealbreaker.

So, I had one hell of an uphill climb. I decided to stop querying agents and switch my focus solely to small, traditional presses. These factors and some others that I’ll cover in the “Why I Went Small Press” section contributed to that decision. But for me, it was a really, really great decision.

At the end of August and some more revisions, I rewrote my query letter for the fifth time, but this time I tweeted about it, and several writers volunteered to help me out, which blew me away. I had one who helped me reorganize it, one who pointed out what didn’t make sense, and one who took it line-by-line in a Google Doc and shredded it until I was able to rewrite it coherently. It paid off, because finally, a little over halfway through the year, I got my first positive response: A publisher that was interested but didn’t have room for my book right now. I was invited to re-query in a year.

I thought things were turning around, but here’s the thing about querying small presses. They take a lot longer to respond than agents! My average wait time was 3-6 months just to get a response for an initial query. I had a couple show interest in my pitch during events, but again, I had a lot of waiting to do.

In November, I got my first full request (Remember I started in January? Ugh.). As we entered the holiday season, I decided to take a break from querying, since I had several responses still out. In early January of 2023, I heard back from the full request. The feedback was overall positive but recommended I turn the book into a standalone, which wasn’t my vision for this story.

At this point, I wasn’t sure what to do. I knew I was going to run out of presses to query, so I was looking at either self-publishing or writing something that fell more in line with market expectations, finding representation, and putting the story on the backburner until I was more established…if that ever happened.

But twenty days later, I returned home from a truly awful morning that involved carsick children to an email from Future House Publishing, saying that they loved my book and wanted to move it to the next phase of review. The next phase soon became an offer—and not just for the first book but for my entire series. And that’s how I ended up with a five-book deal…exactly what I wanted and what I’d been told wasn’t possible.

This is the part where I’m supposed to say don’t give up on your dreams, trust your gut, and stay true to your vision. But for me, getting here involved making some choices, and I really believe it happened because I chose to sign with a small press.

Why I Went Small Press:

So, I talked a little above about some industry facts that made me switch from querying agents to small presses, but I didn’t really explain why.

Let’s start with the saturation of the YA fantasy market. An agent will usually only take on one or two new clients a year, and while I found many who represent this genre, they also often represent others, others that are less saturated and likely to be easier to sell. Even the ones who represent mostly fantasy or science fiction have the same concerns about the market and prefer standalones.

But here’s the thing about small presses. Even the smaller ones typically sign more than two deals a year, and many of them are niche publishers. That means I could submit to presses that publish only science fiction and fantasy, which to me, is an advantage. Unlike agents, there are also several small presses who want to publish a series, who see the value in it. FHP was one of them. These factors made my uphill climb to traditional publishing much less steep.

Ultimately, though, I went small press because I sat down during the summer and asked myself, “What do I really want out of traditional publishing?” Or, in other words, “Is it time to think about self-publishing?” I had three reasons to stick it out with querying:

1.) Financial costs of publishing covered. I didn’t want to spend my own money or raise funds to self-publish.

2.) Assistance with marketing. Everyone has to do marketing these days, even those who get an agent and publish with a Big 5 house. I knew that I didn’t want to be solely on my own. I don’t mind the thought of doing it, but I wanted guidance, connections, etc.

3.) Validation. I’ll be honest here. There was always a part of me that wanted some confirmation that my books were good, that someone else saw the value in them and believed others would want to read them. Perhaps it shouldn’t matter, and if you’re one of those who doesn’t need it, I admire you. But I definitely wanted a stamp of approval.

None of those things required an agent. All of them could be accomplished with a small press, and doing so came with an advantage. Signing directly with a press meant my book would be published, guaranteed. It would see the shelf. Signing with an agent is not a guarantee. Signing with an agent usually means going on submission sometimes for months. Books fail on submission. If I kept querying agents, it could take years to find my champion, years to find my books a home, and years until they were finally published. After spending so long in the trenches, a part of me didn’t want to wait that long to see my dreams become reality.

Now, don’t misunderstand. An agent is an invaluable asset, the person in your corner looking out for you and your book, and I’d still love to have that someday. But I looked at the facts and made a deliberate, calculated decision. I knew what I wanted, what it would take to get it, and then I went after it on the course that made the most sense.

I am so grateful to Future House Publishing for seeing the potential in my big story and for giving me the opportunity to share Gemma and Oliver’s adventure with the world. Thank you to everyone who believed in me, supported me, and encouraged me on this crazy, blunderful journey. I’m thrilled to report it has a happy ending.