Sophie Bennett
Start With Their Wish List, Not Your Manuscript
Most rejections happen before an agent reads a single sentence of your prose. Not because the writing is weak, but because the submission broke the rules — the wrong word count, a missing synopsis, a file that refused to open. It is a sobering thought, and also an encouraging one, because it is entirely within your control.
Every agent's wish list is slightly different. One asks for three chapters and a one-page synopsis; another wants the first 10,000 words and a chapter breakdown; a third wants the opening fifty pages pasted into the body of an email. Before you polish anything, build a simple spreadsheet. Columns for name, how they accept submissions, what they ask for, their stated response time, and whether they accept simultaneous submissions. Add a note if they are closed to submissions until a particular date — many UK agents reopen in bursts rather than staying open all year.
Doing this groundwork first means you assemble your package once and tailor it many times, rather than discovering on your fifth submission that you have been sending the wrong thing all along.
Read the Guidelines Twice, Then Read Them Again
The small print is where careers are gently nudged forward or quietly set aside. Formatting is not bureaucracy; it is a signal that you can follow a brief, which is a surprisingly large part of a writer's working life.
- File format: send a .docx unless they specifically ask for PDF or a pasted-in email.
- Presentation: double-spaced, 12-point, a standard serif or sans-serif font, generous margins.
- Headers: your name, the title and page numbers on every page.
- Title page: title, genre, word count rounded to the nearest thousand, and your contact details.
- File names: if they give a convention, use it exactly. If not, keep it simple and readable.
Send the chapters they ask for — the first three, not your three favourites from the middle. If the guidelines say "no attachments", do not attach anything. When in doubt, choose the plainest, most unremarkable option available.
Treat Your Synopsis as a Plot Document
A synopsis is not a blurb. A blurb sells mood and intrigue; a synopsis tells the truth about what happens. Roughly one page, single-spaced, present tense, third person, and it must include the ending. Withholding the resolution does not create suspense — it creates doubt about whether you know how your own novel works.
Put character names in capitals the first time they appear. Trace the central conflict from inciting incident to resolution, and let the subplots earn their place or leave them out. Write it at 500 words, cut it to 300, cut it again to 150, then build it back up to the required length. That process teaches you what your book is actually about, which is useful for the next thing you will write as well as this submission.
Avoid rhetorical questions. Avoid "and then". Avoid a list of events with no cause connecting them. A good synopsis reads like a story someone is telling you with urgency, not a set of minutes from a meeting.
Make Your Opening Pages Do the Heavy Lifting
Agents read the first line, then the first paragraph, then the first page, and they decide quickly. You need three things to be present almost immediately: voice, stakes and momentum.
- Voice is a particular way of seeing the world — specific, textured, unmistakably yours.
- Stakes mean somebody wants something and stands to lose it.
- Momentum is the question that makes turning the page feel inevitable rather than dutiful.
Keep the cast of your first chapter small. Resist opening with weather, waking up, or a character studying themselves in a mirror. Bring the inciting incident forward. Cut anything that exists purely to explain, and trust the reader to catch up. Then read your first page aloud, slowly. If your attention drifts, theirs will too. Revise the opening last, once you know what the book turned out to be.
Write a Covering Letter That Sounds Like a Person
Three short paragraphs is plenty. First, why this agent — a genuine, specific reason, not flattery. Second, what the book is: title, genre, word count, and one sentence that captures it. Third, who you are, plus anything genuinely relevant. Keep it under 250 words and let it sound like you on a good day.
Do not compare yourself to bestsellers. Do not apologise for taking up their time. Do not mention that your mother loved it. If you use comparisons to other books, use them to locate your novel on a shelf, not to claim it will sell a million copies.
A Final Pass Before You Press Send
Check the agent's name is spelled correctly. Check your word count matches what you have claimed. Check that the attachment opens. Then send, log it, and step away from your inbox.
Waiting is the hardest part, and the most useful thing you can do during it is start the next project. Submissions are cumulative: each honest attempt teaches you something about your pitch, your pages, your patience. Prepare meticulously, then let the work go. You have made something from nothing — the least you can do is present it properly.
