A lot has been written about the proper way to approach a literary agent. Equally helpful, I think, are some guidelines on how not to approach an agent. Do any of the following and you’ll be sure to turn an agent right off.

Educate him about publishing. Why do some writers feel compelled to begin their query letters with a lesson about publishing? “Vampire novels have never been more popular,” one of these letters might read. Agents know these things. They’re agents! Don’t give us publishing lessons; assume we know something.

Do something really outlandish to get her attention. The other day a query letter arrived in a bottle. The postal service actually delivered a bottle with an address label on it. Once I finally got the tightly rolled letter out of the bottle, I had a hell of a time getting it to lie flat. Once I did, I saw that the book being queried about wasn’t something I handle (see also ”Send him the kind of book he doesn’t handle” below). I’ve seen it all–letters dowsed in perfume, letters written on glass, boxes full of confetti, a vial of real blood (I think) enclosed with a vampire manuscript. Doing these things will get the agent’s attention, but it’s not the kind of attention you want. Just send a letter.

Send him the kind of book he doesn’t handle. Do your homework. Don’t waste your and the agent’s time.

Review your own material. It goes without saying that you love your own work–after all, you wrote it! But don’t “review” your own material. Query letters peppered with words like breathtaking, compelling and magnificent just make us roll our eyes.

Forget to include SASE (if using regular mail). If you’re querying by email this isn’t an issue. Otherwise, please enclose a self-addressed stamped envelope for the agent’s reply. No, the cost of a first-class stamp isn’t going to break us, but keep in mind that we receive hundreds and hundreds of query letters and shouldn’t be expected to pay for replies to letters we didn’t ask for.

Tell her you’re published but leave out the name of the publisher(s) because you’re embarrassed. If you’ve published a book with a small press you’re embarrassed about, then don’t mention the book at all. But don’t mention the book and coyly leave out the publisher, hoping we’ll think it might be Random House or Knopf. We won’t.

Tell him you were referred by someone he’s never heard of. Every once in a while I get a letter that starts by telling me the writers was referred by someone I don’t know. It’s puzzling. If someone refers you to an agent, find out if that person actually knows him.

Tell her your mother (or son, or daughter, or friends) LOVED your manuscript. They’re supposed to love your manuscript, and we don’t care who loves it; we need to figure out what we think.

Stalk him. Agent-stalking happens most frequently at writers conferences. I’ve been a victim of it many times. I have been approached by the man at the next urinal; I have been called to the front desk to retrieve a manuscript left for me; I have received phone calls and knocks on my hotel room door at midnight; I have had a manuscript slid into my stall in the men’s room from the guy next door. Don’t stalk an agent. It will just make him think you’re nuts.

If she says no, tell her what a jerk she is. Every once in a while a writer I’ve passed on will write back, or even call, to tell me I’ll be sorry. Or that I couldn’t have read his letter carefully in such a short time. Or that the writer didn’t really want me anyway because I’m a jerk. Publishing is a very small business and you never know if you might want to re-approach someone, so why burn a bridge? If you feel compelled to have the last word, just say thanks.

Bribe him. I have received money, candy, liquor . . . I’ve even been propositioned. If you feel your writing isn’t good enough to stand on its own, work on it some more; don’t resort to bribery. It never works (though I did once eat the candy).

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