Hello, dreamers. Another week has passed, and all is quiet on the querying front. I have high confidence that I’ll hear back on at least a few of my queries in the coming two weeks. But for now, the waiting continues.

As I’ve said before, it’s never too early to start planning for your next round of queries. And, as always, that process begins with the manuscript. I’ve already made a number of minor tweaks (mostly science-related) to my MS, all of which have avoided the opening pages (the only materials all my queried agents currently possess). However, I’ve been taking notes based on feedback from critique partners, and have some ideas for tightening up and sharpening my opening pages. If none of my current queries yield a full request, I know what I’m doing next.

Another aspect of my query materials I’ve reopened is my comps. Just prior to sending out my latest round of queries, I swapped one of my comps for The Kaiju Preservation Society by John Scalzi. Well, since then I’ve actually read the book. My core findings were that A) it’s a thoroughly entertaining book, and B) it is almost, but not entirely unlike my book. So, over the past week I dove back into comps research.

Longtime readers will recall me going on a lot about comps. However, many are probably wondering what they are, or at least why they’re so important to querying writers. So in this week’s post, allow me to explain…

Comparatively Speaking

The current standard model for a query letter begins with a metadata paragraph. This includes the title of the book, its genre, intended audience, and word count (usually written as “complete at [word count]”, though no modern fiction writer would query an incomplete manuscript). After that data comes the comps.

Comps are, as the term suggests, books you feel your story could be compared to. As with most aspects of a query letter, there are no hard-and-fast rules, but there are several understood conventions. You should have at least two books, ideally no more than four (and even that’s pushing it with some agents). Of those books, at least two should have been released within the past three to five years. And though it’s not strictly necessary, it’s usually helpful to say a few words about why you feel each book is comparable to yours.

For instance, in an earlier draft of my query letter, my comps read as follows:

“It features the found family dynamics and scientific accuracy of THE EXPANSE series by James S. A. Corey, and would appeal to fans of MERU by S. B. Divya and CHILDREN OF TIME by Adrian Tchaikovsky.”

(For those who are curious, it’s customary to capitalize, rather than italicize, titles of books in a query letter, as formatting may not translate between email platforms.)

Now, that’s not to say that anyone who reads Seven Days on Samarkand will find it to be exactly like Leviathan Wakes, or any of the other titles listed above. They’ll probably find my story to be very, very different. After all, why would I just write The Expanse when it’s already been written? And masterfully, too.

No, comps aren’t meant to list books that are extremely similar to mine. Rather, comps are another of those hidden tests for querying writers. In this case, it’s meant to see how well you can place your book in the current market. And that’s where a lot of querying writers get tripped up.

Most of the other querying writer’s I’ve seen pulling their hair out over comps have been trying to find books that very closely resemble theirs. But that’s not the point. I mean after all, if there’s a book out there that’s a whole lot like yours, your chances of getting published are basically zero. But I like to think of it this way: if someone found your book on Amazon, and scrolled down to the “Readers also liked…” section, what books would they find there?

Those are your comps. The books that would be found next to yours on the shelf at a bookstore.

My comps research over the past year or so has helped me to form a few basic rules for finding comps:

Your Comps Should Share Something in Common with Your Book

Ideally, you should find at least one or two key aspects that each comp title shares with your book. It helps to take a look at your book’s themes and core features. For instance, in the case of Seven Days on Samarkand I’m looking for sci-fi novels featuring colonization of alien planets, themes of conservation and alien intelligence, space exploration, and hard science (like Children of Time and Meru). I’m also looking for sci-fi that’s multi-POV with found family dynamics (like The Expanse).

If none of that works, it helps to step back and look at your book holistically. If you’ve written high-concept sci-fi or space adventure (as I have), look at books that fall under that broad umbrella. Then look closer at those books and see if you can’t find similarities in tone and style.

You Don’t Need to Read a Book to Comp to It

…and in fact, many querying writers don’t. One of the first things many agented authors will tell you about comps is that you really don’t have to read the books you comp. And for querying writers who already have more than enough to worry about, that comes as a relief. After all, while you’re editing a manuscript, writing another (or several), and balancing life and everything else, the last thing you want to do is read ten or twenty books to figure out whether any of them compare to yours.

Remember, first and foremost this is about market placement. As I said, it can help to look at key themes, or simply approach your book holistically. A few enterprising authors have actually gone so far as to produce online databases of recent novels, sorted by genre with notes on basic style and theme. If nothing else, they’re a great starting point. You can also talk to librarians, or independent booksellers, and see what they would recommend.

That Said, You Really Should Read Books You Comp to

And here we get back to the book by John Scalzi I read recently. It was recommended to me by an agented author, and on the face of it, it sure seemed perfect: recent sci-fi about people working in conservation on a world filled with fantastic creatures.

Then I read it.

Turns out The Kaiju Preservation society is short and very humorous (not as crass as Mickey7, but in the running). It’s campy, corny (very intentionally, and believe me it works). It’s also contemporary sci-fi with interdimensional travel. Given that my novel is a 104k work of hard sci-fi, multi-POV, upmarket and high-concept, and set almost a hundred years from now, I really don’t think anyone who enjoyed The Kaiju Preservation Society would enjoy my book.

So it’s back to the drawing board. I already have a short list of possible comps I’ll be reading in the coming month. Hopefully, by the end, I’ll have a better sense of exactly where my book will sit in my market. – MK