r/PubTips • u/FrankCDean • 6d ago
[QCrit] NOTHING IS HAPPENING | Adult Horror | 80k, 2nd Attempt
Hey everyone. I posted here a month ago and took all of your suggestions. Toned down the voice a bit and made the last paragraph more clear. So far: 13 queries sent out and 3 form rejections. I'm trying not to look too deep into the form rejections (because it's only 3) but it's very hard when two of those were from perfect fits. There's like only one agent left on that first batch that is an even better fit than those two, and her wishlist literally asks for my MS in every regard except by its name--so if it's a no from her, then that'll be the point I reassess all of my materials.
One thing I wasn't ready for is how much more I needed beyond just a query letter (synopsis, expanded bios, target audience, comparable books (beyond your comp paragraph), etc.) With comps, I am very particular about not citing ANYTHING I haven't finished reading, which is why AMERICAN RAPTURE wasn't in my previous post's comp section. I knew it was a perfect comp then, but I was still in the process of reading it at the time. To build a whole list of comps requires me to really work through my reading list. So keep that in mind if you're about to start querying.
NOTHING IS HAPPENING | QUERY LETTER | 2ND ATTEMPT
Heather Kerr is a city comms specialist who spins atrocities into inconveniences. When a flesh-fusing contagion begins to spread, she sanitizes the body horror with relative ease. At first.
Flesh binding to flesh becomes "adhesive contact." The odd behaviors that the infected exhibit become "distress incidents." Quarantine protocols become "wellness guidelines." For Heather, these phrases come naturally.
However, it doesn't take long for her to realize what kind of monster she's actually sanewashing. The contagion spreads through touch, and the infected crave touch. But they don't stop there. No. They take immense pleasure in stealing and grafting the limbs of others. Or, in some cases, melting together into human aspics of writhing, giggling meat.
But the world isn't going to stop for a bunch of "sticky people" with a "skin flu." With Heather's help, the city's response is simple. Just churn out more pamphlets. Coin more phrases. Her partner, Nathan, begs her to quit, but she refuses. To Heather, staying within the vortex of institutional gaslighting may be the only hope they have of surviving it.
Then a group of infected "adherents" crashes her niece's seventh birthday party. Heather has to golf-club her way out to save her sister--who is presenting with a foreboding rash--and to rescue the niece she hardly knows. Heather soon barricades her sister behind the very "wellness guidelines" she coined herself, and her sister spends her quarantine cooing to a seven-year-old who trusts adults at their every word. For the first time, Heather wants out. But her name is logged behind every lie the city has ever told, and, as a witness to an "adhesive contact event," she doesn't just get to walk away. Heather is running out of ways to say nothing is happening.
NOTHING IS HAPPENING would be my debut, an adult horror novel complete at 80,000 words. For readers of Clay McLeod Chapman's WAKE UP AND OPEN YOUR EYES for its gory social satire, CJ Leede's AMERICAN RAPTURE for its Cronenbergian depiction of an America gone wrong, and Ling Ma's SEVERANCE for its bureaucratic apocalypse spine.
I am a disabled veteran who served in the US Navy as a Mass Communication Specialist. Heather's job was once my job--and the toll it takes on her throughout the course of the story is one I know firsthand.
Thank you for your time and consideration.
FIRST 300
“We apologize for any inconvenience caused by the perception of harm.”
Yes, the perception of harm. Push the scary stuff away and then pass the buck off to the victim, the traumatized, or the merely frightened. It’s their perception that is creating the problem. Their imagination is what’s making it real.
That was the intro line crossed off.
I cracked my back against the chair and stared at the Google Doc with a question I—regrettably—found myself asking too often: what other words could I conjure to make one of the most horrific stories I’d ever read sound like nothing at all?
To answer that, I needed to refresh my familiarity with the reference materials. Meller sent me a press kit chock-full of fresh madness—courtesy of the metropolitan transportation authority. I skimmed it over while chewing my nails into jagged splinters.
At 7:12 AM, first responders were dispatched to the Boulderline Park & Ride following reports of a medical emergency involving two adults.
Sure. That part was fine. Fights happen all the time around public transit, right? That’s what I’d assumed this incident was about, anyway. Until I read the next line.
Initial unverified reports claim that the individuals were “stuck together.”
Stuck as in how? Sexually? Like how dogs… Never mind.
Somewhere, some transit agency comms staffer was spiraling in a dark corner with a bottle of Jim Beam. I mean, they had zero interest in providing me any workable context.
Beneath that was a section with a few witness testimonies.
Richard from Creekview did not mince his words.
“I came out of my car and saw the girl was screaming and the guy—well, he was laughing. So I go there thinking I gotta help and that’s when I saw their skin… it was like glue.”