A Query Sent is a Lesson Learned

In case it needs to be said, this is not really me; it’s my corgi, Foreaux.  Visiting my blog regularly will guarantee more pics of both my pups.

In case it needs to be said, this is not really me; it’s my corgi, Foreaux. Visiting my blog regularly will guarantee more pics of both my pups.

Alright, the first few submissions have been made! And wow, there are so many great options out there. The list of agents I’d love to work with is a long one. Most of them are open for submissions, and I’m keeping an eye on the ones who aren’t right now. So far the process has been smooth and I’m feeling good—except . . . dare I tell you what I did? You guys, this is very embarrassing. But, whelp, here goes: The first query I sent—the very first query I sent—contained a typo. In the first line of my writing sample. In the second word of the first line of my writing sample. I don’t know how it happened. Yes, I read over the chapter before I pasted it into the body of the email. I SWEAR I DID. It was a line I’d tinkered with a few weeks ago, and that must have been when I allowed it to slip in there. I’ve included an image of myself in the aftermath of realizing what I’d done and falling off the couch.

You guys. I am an ED👏I👏TOR👏. Like, for the bulk of my post-college working life, I was paid real money to not let this happen to other people, and I’d like to think I was more than decent at it. At my very first editorial job out of college, I was nicknamed Eagle Eye. 

I toyed with sending a follow-up email. Something along the lines of, “Dear Understanding Agent, please note that if you’ve read my sample chapter by now, you are certainly aware of the unfortunate missing apostrophe s in the first line. YOU’RE THE FIRST AGENT I’VE SUBMITTED TO AND THIS WAS A HORRIBLE ERROR AND I PROMISE NEVER TO DO IT AGAIN PLEASE PLEASE DON’T LET THIS TEENY TINY TYPO COLOR YOUR FEELINGS REGARDING MY CREATIVE AND/OR TECHNICAL ABILITIES.” 

But I didn’t send that email, or any email. I’d like to think my work speaks for itself. I mean, it’s not like I boasted about my profound editorial skills within the letter (I mean, I kinda did, but not really). But, regardless, even if I’m written off for that single typo, I have thoroughly learned my lesson. Before you hit send, ALWAYS PROFREAD. 

Marie Kreuter