Request: I'm going to post my proposed letter to Andy Summers. I need feedback. Any and all greatly appreciated. Thanks.

"Feedback, PLEASE. I want to get this out ASAP.

- - -

Dear Andy:

A quick introductory reminder: we met at your Haight Street signing in San Francisco last week. From one Thomas Dunne author to another, thanks for taking a moment. John Parsley graciously forwarded my email; this is the follow-up. Apologies for any repetition, between this and the email. Apologies, too, for being a trifle long-winded; I wanted got it all down.

Right. Deep breath, and here we go:

I'm writing to ask a favour: Would you be willing to blurb my new series, somewhere down the line?

As you'll see, it's appropriate. I've spent years in Bay Area music (working with the Dead and the Airplane, among others) and had a long on- and off-again relationship with a legendary session piano player (during your Q&A at Booksmith, I asked if you'd got to work with any of the session guys in LA, during your tenure with the Animals - I was hoping you'd had the chance to work with my ex, Nicky Hopkins, but alas, it seems you didn't).

In an attempt to get some perspective on those years, I've just finished the fourth book of a new series, the Kinkaid Chronicles. These are mystery novels, told by JP Kinkaid, a fictional session guitar player, and run in a chronological progression. The completed titles are listed below.

The series is being looked at by, among others, Random House. If you saw your way to blurbing, you would, of course, get your own shiny thanks and acknowledgement, along with Bela Fleck, Pete Sears, Neil Gaiman and a few other friends who've expressed interest in reading and blurbing these, or who give me permission to mention them to potential editors. I'm enclosing a flyer about the Kinkaids.

These aren't straight mystery stories, by the way. The focus in these books are the people: JP himself, mid-fifties and chronically ill, with multiple sclerosis and a heart problem. His lover and companion of twenty five years, Bree Godwin. His estranged wife, Cilla. JP's bandmates in Blacklight, the megastar touring band he joined in the late seventies. His local musician friends in the Bay Area, particularly his pickup band, the Fog City Geezers, and his keyboard player closest friend, Tony Mancuso's, longtime band, the Bombardiers.

Nicky - my inspiration for JP Kinkaid - was also chronically ill. He didn't have MS, but I do, and I can write about it with authority. I'm attaching a short section from the second book in this series, While My Guitar Gently Weeps. The man JP is remembering, Jack Featherstone, should be immediately recognisable as being based on Ronnie Lane. I chose this particular piece because, in a way, it covers everything I'm trying to do with this series: memory, family, loyalty, letting go, holding on. And why, in so many ways, music is what a musician is, and not just what he or she does.

These aren't hatchet jobs, or tell-alls, or even roman a clefs. I loved my years in rock and roll, loved the people, and in particular, loved and looked after the legend JP Kinkaid is based on. I've done tours, arranged charity events and fundraisers, worked with Bill Graham and Amnesty International. I saw rock and roll (I was at Woodstock and Altamont and wasn't stoned for either of them, which I suspect makes me something of an anomaly) at its best and worst. By request, I made miso soup at two in the morning and took a taxi down the mountain to a late-night recording session at the Record Plant in Sausalito. I've been hidden from some seriously pissed-off cops backstage at a 1970 Dead gig in New York, crouched in a roadcase while the Dead's keyboard player, Pigpen, leaned against it casually and told the cops that no, he hadn't seen anyone matching that description but he'd be sure to let them know. It's been a long strange trip, and a lot of those personal incidents are woven through the Kinkaids.

I'm considered a literary writer rather than a commercial one, (continued...)

( continues...) but the Kinkaids - the closest to my heart of anything I've ever written - may well be both.

In any case, thanks for your time on this. I know how exhausting touring is, and I hope you get to catch up on rest and family time soon!

Cheers,

Deborah Grabien"

Input? Suggestions? I so need this.

To be honest, it sounds a bit more like a breathlessly anxious fangirl rather than a professional writer with fascinating history and a killer hook for a series of books.

The "deep breath" line could probably go. The information about who's interesting and who else is blurbing shows you're for real. The part about Nicky being ill--if he knew anything about Nicky, he probably knows that--and your insight into MS strikes me as over the top. Also, does it matter to Andy that the Kinkaids were born from you contemplating your history?

Breathless fangirl? Interesting take, since I never was much of a Police fan.

Also, does it matter to Andy that the Kinkaids were born from you contemplating your history?

Yes. Because too many people try writing about that world when they actually know jackshit about it. And the book he's out pimping is written from precisely that place.

Deb, I think there are too many apologies in that letter. Your pitch is a good one, but the apologies weigh it down a bit.

In the first paragraph, I think you want to say "I wanted to be sure I got it all down."

I'd say strike the "Deep breath" line. I'd also mention sooner that JP Kinkaid is based on Nicky Hopkins, and that you knew him so well. Otherwise, it's five or six paragraphs before he gets to why you're approaching him in particular. You mention Nicky, then JP, and two paras later, how they're connected, and why this book might matter to Andy.

There we go. Trimmed it.

Tricky balance, between "we talked about this for about two minutes" and "professional writers asking for professional favours."

Still - feedback was good.

It now reads:

We met at your Haight Street signing in San Francisco. John Parsley graciously forwarded my email; this is the explanatory follow-up. Apologies for any repetition, between this and the email. Apologies, too, for being a trifle long-winded; I wanted to get it all down.

I'm writing to ask a favour: Would you be willing to have a look at my new series and, if you like it what you see, to offer a blurb?

I've just finished the fourth book of the Kinkaid Chronicles. These are mystery novels, narrated by JP Kinkaid, a fictional session guitar player, and run in a chronological progression. The completed titles are listed below. I'm also enclosing a flyer. I spent years in Bay Area music (working with the Dead and the Airplane, among others) and had a long on- and off-again relationship with Nicky Hopkins, the man on whom JP Kinkaid is based.

These aren't straight mysteries. They focus on the people: JP himself, mid-fifties and chronically ill, with multiple sclerosis and a heart problem. His companion of twenty five years, Bree Godwin. His estranged wife, Cilla. JP's bandmates in Blacklight, the megastar band he joined in the late seventies. His local musician friends in the Bay Area, particularly his pickup band, the Fog City Geezers, and his keyboard player closest friend, Tony Mancuso's, longtime band, the Bombardiers.

Nicky was also chronically ill. He didn't have MS, but I do, and I can write about it with authority. I'm attaching a short section from the second book, While My Guitar Gently Weeps. The man JP is remembering, Jack Featherstone, should be immediately recognisable as based on Ronnie Lane. I chose this particular piece because, in a way, it covers everything I'm trying to do with this series: memory, family, loyalty, letting go, holding on. And why, in so many ways, music is what a musician is, and not just what he or she does.

I loved my years in music, loved the people, and in particular, loved and looked after the man JP Kinkaid is based on. I've done tours, arranged charity events and fundraisers, worked with Bill Graham and Amnesty International. I saw rock and roll at its best and worst. I've made miso soup at midnight for a late-night recording session at the Record Plant in Sausalito. I've been hidden in a roadcase from the cops by the band, backstage at a 1970 Dead gig in New York. These aren't hatchet jobs, or tell-alls, or even roman a clefs. It's been a long strange trip, and a lot of those personal incidents are woven through the Kinkaids.

I'm considered a literary writer rather than a commercial one, but the Kinkaids - the closest to my heart of anything I've ever written - may well be both. In any case, thanks for your time on this. I know how exhausting touring is, and I hope you get to catch up on rest and family time soon!

Challenge #129 (desert island) is now closed.

Challenge #130 is triangles.

I'd drop the second apology. Either be long-winded or not, but you don't need the apology.

Would you be willing to have a look at my new series and, if you like it what you see, to offer a blurb?

extra word there.