Like a lot of writers, I thought my query letter was fine. Maybe not Nobel-worthy, but clean, punchy, and good enough to net me a few bites. Then I racked up 31 straight rejections.
Spoiler: It wasn’t fine.
Spoiler #2: That’s a very good thing.
Enter Revise & Resub (#RevPit), a contest where kind but ruthless editors volunteer their time to help authors fix their query letters and first pages. I didn’t win. But I did get feedback from generous, sharp-eyed editors—including Allison Alexander—that gave me exactly the overhaul I needed.
Here’s what I learned:
1. Your Comps Are Probably Wrong
I’d chosen a comp that I loved. It felt tonally spot-on and shared some thematic DNA with my book. The only problem? It was seven years old.
Apparently, that’s ancient in publishing years. The RevPit editors recommended comps from the last two to three years, ideally by debut or midlist authors—not mega-bestsellers. (Gone Girl, we love you, but it’s time to let go.)
That sent me into full research mode, hunting for books that felt like cousins to mine—not twins. The best advice?
You don’t need comps that match everything. You can mix and match:
“Voice like Scorched Grace, plot like The Verifiers.”
One editor even linked me to a cool comp finder database by Allison Alexander. It doesn’t yet include mystery titles (unfortunately for me), but it’s a promising tool if your genre’s listed.
2. Voice Matters—Even in Your Query
My main character, Harper Morris, is snarky, jaded, and makes bad decisions for all the right reasons. I thought I had to write the query in a more neutral, professional tone.
Nope.
RevPit pushed me to let Harper’s voice come through in the summary—just enough to show agents what kind of ride they’re in for. It was tricky, because you still want the query to sound polished. But once I leaned into her attitude, the whole thing clicked.
3. Think GMC: Goal, Motivation, Conflict
They also stripped my plot summary down to the bones:
- What does Harper want?
- Why does she want it?
- What’s in her way?
Everything else—side characters, backstory, subplot threads—got axed. It hurt. But the result was tighter, clearer, and more engaging. Here’s the final version I’m using:
Final Query Letter
Dear [Agent],
I’m seeking representation for The Three Faces of Harper Morris, a 95,000-word adult mystery that combines the irreverent, neo-noir voice of Scorched Grace with the digital-age deception of The Verifiers. The manuscript stands alone but offers strong series potential.
Harper Morris isn’t a real private investigator. She’s a con artist with a fake license and a real talent for pissing off the wrong people. When a tech CEO turns up dead in a quiet Orlando suburb, she doesn’t give a damn. But when a former mark puts a hitman on her trail, things get ugly fast. The state, deciding Harper’s an unfit guardian, takes custody of her autistic kid brother, Ollie.
Suddenly, that murder case looks like a lifeline. Solve it, claim the reward, hire a legal T-Rex, and fight to get Ollie back. But the deeper Harper digs, the messier things get: copycat killings, overlapping suspects, and a creeping sense that someone is steering her straight toward the killer. Someone smart, dangerous, and in the habit of leaving bodies like breadcrumbs.
The cops are circling. The body count keeps climbing. If Harper wants to survive this, she’ll have to pull off the best con of her life: becoming a real detective. If she fails, she won’t just lose the case. She’ll lose Ollie, the one person she was never willing to gamble.
By day, I teach game design and project management at UCF’s top-ranked graduate program for video game development. By night, I write about murder, deception, and people who make terrible life choices. The Three Faces of Harper Morris draws on my fascination with personality psychology, the art of the con, and the masks we wear: one for the world to see, one for who we wish we were, and one for the truths we refuse to face.
Thank you for your time and consideration.
So, Did It Work?
It’s too soon to tell—but since updating the letter, I’ve already received one request for a partial and one for a full. After 31 rejections, that’s real movement.
Querying still sucks. It’s slow, demoralizing, and weirdly devoid of feedback. But if you’re feeling stuck, RevPit was absolutely worth the time. And if nothing else, it taught me this:
A query letter isn’t just a summary. It’s a sample.
Make it sound like your book.
Make it feel like your voice.
And for the love of God, check your comps.
