Most query letters fail for reasons that have nothing to do with the quality of the book. A wrong genre label, a missing page count, an opening line that begins with 'I am writing to enquire' — these small errors send a submission to the rejection pile before anyone has read a sentence of the manuscript.
Agents work through hundreds of queries a month, and most are assessed quickly. That sounds harsh, but it is also clarifying. The letter has one job: to persuade someone to open the pages. Everything else is noise.
Mislabelling the Genre
A 95,000-word novel with a murder, a detective and a twist is a crime novel, even if the prose is beautiful. Labelling it 'literary fiction' because it feels literary tells an agent you don't know where the book sits on a shelf — which suggests you haven't read widely in your own category. Genre labels are practical tools. They tell an agent which editor, which imprint and which readership you're aiming at.
The usual versions of this mistake:
- Calling a romance 'women's fiction' when the central love story doesn't reach an emotionally satisfying ending. Romance has a contract with the reader, and agents know it.
- Calling a novel for teenagers 'adult crossover' when the protagonist is fifteen and the voice is unmistakably YA. The label signals readership, not ambition.
- Inventing a category — 'speculative contemporary literary thriller' — which reads as uncertainty about what you've written.
- Claiming 'upmarket' when the book is commercial, or the reverse. Some agents want one and not the other, and they will know within a paragraph.
If you're unsure, look at the books yours would sit beside in a shop, note how their jacket copy describes them, and use that language. Lead with the standard category, then let a short, honest descriptor follow it.
Ignoring the Submission Guidelines
Guidelines vary far more than writers expect. One agency wants a form. Another wants an email with the first three chapters pasted beneath the letter. A third asks for a one-page synopsis, a short biography and the first fifty pages. Some say no attachments. Some accept simultaneous submissions; a few ask you not to send elsewhere at the same time.
Read the page properly, then read it again. If it says 5,000 words, send 5,000 words. If it says no attachments, attach nothing. If it asks why you are approaching that particular agent, answer in one honest sentence — a genuine connection to their list beats flattery every time.
Keep a simple record as you go: agent name, agency, date sent, materials requested, stated response time, and the date you followed up. A spreadsheet takes ten minutes to set up and saves you from the embarrassment of querying the same agent twice, or contradicting yourself in a follow-up.
The reason this matters is not that agents are pedantic. It is that the guidelines are the first test of whether you can follow instructions — the same skill you'll need when an editor sends notes, a copy-editor queries a fact, or a contract needs signing.
Squandering the Opening Paragraph
The first few lines are the audition. Cut the throat-clearing: no paragraphs about how long you've been writing, no 'I hope this email finds you well' followed by three sentences of nothing, no rhetorical questions ('What if the one person you trusted was the one person you shouldn't?').
What works is a compact statement of what the book is, followed by the hook:
THE SALT LINE is a 92,000-word psychological thriller set on the Norfolk coast, in which a woman returns to sell her late mother's house and finds evidence that a death ruled accidental was nothing of the kind. It would appeal to readers of [two recent comparable titles].
Three sentences and the agent knows the category, the length, the setting, the premise and the market. There is no flattery, no preamble and no mention of the seven years it took to write.
Address the agent by name. 'Dear Agent' when the name is printed on the submissions page is a small insult. If no name is given, 'Dear Ms [Surname]' or 'Dear [Agency] submissions team' will do.
Explaining the Plot Instead of Pitching It
Most first drafts go one of two ways. Either they retell the entire novel, subplots and ending included, in 700 words; or they drift through atmosphere and theme without ever saying what happens. Both leave the agent without the information they need.
A pitch of roughly 100 to 200 words should answer four questions: who is the protagonist, what do they want, what stands in the way, and what happens if they fail? That's the whole job. Keep named characters to two or three. Don't explain the magic system in the letter; that's what the manuscript is for. Don't mention the sequel you've planned. Don't announce twelve point-of-view characters as though it were a selling point.
Only refer to the ending where the genre demands reassurance — a romance or a mystery may need a signal that the payoff is genuinely there. And be careful with comparisons. 'The next [enormous franchise]' sets up a standard nothing can meet. Two recent, accurate titles, plus a line on what your book shares with them, does far more work.
Getting the Biography Wrong
Writers either apologise for themselves or inflate themselves, and neither helps. Include what is relevant: previous publications, a prize that means something, a creative writing MA, professional experience if you are writing non-fiction in that field, or a platform with genuine reach. If you have none of those, one line about where you live and that this is your first novel is plenty — then move on.
Leave out 'I have been writing since I could hold a pen', 'my beta readers loved it', 'I know this will be a bestseller', and any sentence beginning 'I am the next'. Social media numbers only help if they are substantial and related to the readership you are writing for; a modest following mentioned nervously does you no favours.
Presentation Errors That Undermine Good Pages
- Misspelling the agent's name, or naming the wrong agency after a copy-and-paste job. Check both twice.
- A word count so far from the norm for your category that it raises a question. Debut lengths vary, but an agent needs a reason to trust an unusual one. 'It can be cut' is not a reason.
- Attachments when the guidelines asked for text in the body of the email, or file names like manuscriptfinalFINAL2.docx.
- A jokey or over-familiar tone that doesn't match the book. Warm is fine; stand-up is not.
- Chasing after a week. Check the stated response time, add a margin, then follow up once.
- Round-robin emails where it's obvious the agent is one of twenty. If the guidelines ask for something specific, give it.
Before You Press Send
- Re-read the agent's page one last time: category, materials, format, name.
- Confirm your genre label matches where the book would actually sit in a bookshop.
- Check that the first paragraph names the title, category, word count and hook.
- Read the letter aloud and cut anything that isn't about the book or your relevant credentials.
- Make sure your comparison titles are recent, accurate and honest.
- Proofread slowly, then ask someone else to read it. Typos cluster in the one place you stopped looking.
- Log the submission with the date and the stated response time, then close the file.
- Start the next piece of writing that day.
Rejection is part of the process, and it often says more about the market at a given moment than about the manuscript. A letter that follows the guidelines, labels the book honestly and gets to the point early gives you the best odds you can control. The rest belongs to the writing — which is where the time is best spent anyway.
Photo: mahmudul4480 / Pixabay
