Publishing is a funny business. Not funny “ha ha” but funny “strange.” And funny “mystical.” And funny “inscrutable.”

Is that enough funny for you? Not laughing? That’s funny.

But seriously, folks, one of those funny things I experience in my work as a literary agent is that people often say things they don’t mean to say, in person and in their book proposals (which is how I start the conversation about representation, not with a query but with a full proposal … and by “full,” I mean hook, summary, author section, marketing/platform section, comparisons, manuscript status, outline or synopsis, and sample chapters). Know what I’m saying? No? Okay, as Ricky Ricardo would say, “I can essplain.”

For example, writers sometimes list all of their publication credits in the author section of a book proposal, believing (I think) that a list of, say, twenty articles they’ve published will impress me. In so doing, however, they give the opposite impression, because a nice, brief, “Her work has appeared in such publications as The War Cry, Bible Advocate, and The Upper Room,” conveys a professionalism that a full listing doesn’t.

Similarly, people often say, in their comparison section of a book proposal, that their work is unique. There are no comparisons, as this approach has never been done. But the comp section helps an agent or editor see that (1) you know your genre, and (2) books similar to yours in one way or another are selling well. Saying there are no comps is saying (1) you don’t know your genre, and (2) there’s no audience for your book.

I also regularly see writers proudly proclaiming that their book is cross-genre or a “genre-busting” book. Rather than communicating, “Man, I’m bold and creative,” this tends to say, “Ooph, I don’t know how book publishing and marketing work.”

Writers also tend to say (in the marketing—that is, platform—section of a book proposal) what they will do when their book is released: schedule speaking engagements on the topic, post regularly about their topic on social media, etc. But this tends to communicate, “I’m not doing those things now.” (Which is why I encourage writers to use only present tense in their marketing sections because it shows their current reach and influence.)

One more example: Writers sometimes pitch, say, a fantasy novel of 50,000 words or a devotional of 100,000 words. This also suggest an unfamiliarity with the writer’s chosen genre, as fantasy novels tend to be much longer (80,000+ words) and devotionals shorter (though there’s a range, depending on whether it’s a 30-day or 90-day, and so on). I’ve even received submissions for works of 200,000 words, which doesn’t say, “I’m prolific,” but rather, “I still have a lot to learn about publishing.”

Funny, right? What, you’re still not laughing? Okay, but if I haven’t made you laugh, I hope at least that I’ve helped you to say what you mean to say in your future pitches. And if not, well, that’s not funny “ha ha” or even funny “strange,” but just funny “weird.”