I'd like to test the waters, and send out some query letters for my essay collection. I think I'm ready to take rejection, now, I let that fear go.
Would anyone mind sending me a sample query, and what would I include with a collection of essays? Sample paragraphs, or a couple of the short ones? I'm lost, and know not what I'm doing.
Allyson, love to! But the flavour of a query letter varies a bit, depending on who you're sending it to. Magazine? Agent?
Kewl! Have you started futzing with a letter, or would you like sample drafts?
One other thing - if you've got a couple of different agents in mind for querying, make sure you've got their perferred submit and query requirements. They differ from agent to agent; some want a sample, some want a simple question, some want an email. But they all list their preference. Once you've got that, we (note the proprietorial "we", there...) can craft a nice basic query letter that can be quick-fit to the individual agents.
He began to stir due to the movement next to him, fully waking when he heard her scream; the small scream of a frightened child.
He shook her until her eyes focused. “Baby, you’re ok,” he whispered as he rolled her into his arms, tightening his hold in an effort to calm the tremors that ripped through her.
She remained there, cradled against him, inhaling and exhaling until finally pushing him away. Swiping at the tears on her cheeks, she mumbled a thank you and then turned her back on him once again, shutting him out of her private hell.
Edited for fixing.
Damn! Just finished catching up on the drabbles that are posted here but not on the lj GWW.
I simply can't say WOW enough. Buffistas need to be published!
shutting him out of her private hell
I like this image. It's circular, she creates it over and over again, between her nightmares and real life.
Nicole, that's a gut kick. Especially since when I do get nightmares, they're almost always about abandonment.
Hell
The light is too bright. My eyes close and my head turns away. The light comes and goes. A wet cloth wipes my face. Faces come in and out of my vision. The faces look vaguely familiar, but they keep changing. There are always hands, lifting, pulling, combing out the snarls in the hair. The sheet goes away and comes back. There is always noise: sometimes soft and murmuring, sometimes too bright like the light. The noise used to mean something, but the meaning slipped away like everything else.
Something is holding my hand. Why won't it let me go?
Ginger, the ones you've done on this category have basically blown me apart. They're amazing.