All Your Might in the Query Trenches

“Whatever your hand finds to do, do it with all your might.” - Ecclesiastes 9:10

Querying a book is like tossing your heart into someone’s inbox and hoping it doesn’t get deleted before lunch. One day you’re convinced it’s the next best thing. The next, you’re ready to change your name and take up sheep farming in Scotland. Yet, somehow, you still hit send.

For me, that send button carries my debut, When the Mundane Becomes Miracles. It’s a dual-timeline Christian contemporary romance about family secrets, legacy, and the kind of hope you have to fight for. I’ve lived with these characters long enough to know they don’t let go easily.

Ecclesiastes 9:10 doesn’t say “try a little and quit when it’s hard.” It says do it with all your might. That means intention, not impulse. Not carpet-bombing the industry. Not a copy-paste query. Real research. Real care.

So, build your list, read wish lists, and spell names correctly. Be sure to read every detail and follow guidelines like they’re a trail map, because they are. If an agent champions multi-POV, dual-timeline stories with heart, When the Mundane Becomes Miracles belongs in that pile. If they only rep hard sci-fi, I don’t waste their time or mine. I’ll just save their information for my husband.

Once you do that and you do that diligently, hit send.

And wait.

Wait some more.

Somewhere in an inbox sits my manuscript, introducing Tally and the mess she inherits, establishing Isaac as the one who carries it all, and inviting the reader to the ranch where ordinary days keep colliding with extraordinary surprises. Will an agent see what I see? Maybe. Maybe not. That part isn’t mine to control.

My brain, however, wants to “help.” It invents melodramas: lost emails, dramatic readings, secret industry group chats. None of that moves the needle. So, I step away.

Touch grass—real grass, not the fake plants I have at home that are permanently thriving no matter how much I ignore them. Drink water. Eat something that isn’t a cookie. Pray over the work and the person who will read it. No, not to force an outcome, but to honor the hours, the drafts, and the pages cut and kept.

Keep the creativity flowing. I’m not saying to write a sequel, per se (at least not yet). Just pages that breathe. Flash scenes. Character sketches. A new idea that makes you feel what you felt the first time you picked up a pen to truly write. Fresh words keep your writing well from drying out while whatever you have in the query trenches does its thing out there.

Rejections will arrive. They’ll sting. They’ll make you want to quit the thing you love. Don’t let it. Feel that hurt, save those notes, file it away, and move forward once more. If someone offers even a single line of insight, treat it like gold.

Sometimes, a request lands. This is when you breathe, read your work again, and send whatever they’ve requested. This is “all your might” in real time—doing the brave thing while the butterflies stage a riot in your stomach.

Also, if an offer does come, don’t jump on it. Respectfully. Industry standard is not shouting “YES!” on the rooftops, no matter how excited you are. You thank the agent and inform them you’ll be in touch within a week or two. During this time, reach out to the other agents who have your query or manuscript and let them know you’ve been given an offer. Give them a deadline to respond. If you do accept the offer, make sure to set up a call to discuss the details beforehand: compare visions, ask the hard questions, and make sure the partnership is the right fit.

This process has taught me more than I expected. Professionalism, yes. Patience, definitely. But also to guard that spark that started When the Mundane Becomes Miracles in the first place. It’s important to not lose that spark in all of the pressure of the query trenches.

So, keep sending. Not recklessly, but relentlessly—intentionally. Keep refining your craft where you can and release what you can’t control. And when your breakthrough comes, whether through the hard-earned yes or the decision to step back and take another route to your calling, know that it wasn’t coincidence. It was a dozen small faithful choices that opened a door.

Until then, my manuscript will keep sitting into the inboxes where it belongs (for now). And I’ll keep writing with all my might. I hope you will, too.

~ Tiffany G. Jackson