OH MY GOD - THANK YOU!!!
This is far more than I expected. I must again remark how honored I am to be speaking with you. That's truly some of the best advice I've gotten - recently, or ever.
Sometime ago, a highly acclaimed author agreed to read my story. When I finally sent it, however, he was too busy.
I think you're right in that I need connections. For much of my childhood, I had a fantasy that some famous person would engage with my work and offer to promote it. I realize now that that was wishful thinking.
I actually just penned a query letter, but upon posting it in Reddit, I received mostly negative feedback - i.e., "It's too long," "It's too detailed," etc. Then it got pulled by the moderators for unclear reasons.
Here's the full text of the letter:
________________________________________________________________
Dear ________________
Imagine a 16-year-old girl who wears a suit and tie casually each day and plays the piano on a rooftop at night. Imagine a great, ruined labyrinth filled with fog, located at the center of a decaying coastal city. Imagine if that city were governed by an elusive and quietly sinister government with Kafkaesque undertones. Imagine a mysterious execution machine that is put to use only once a year, on the final day of October.
This is The Life and Death of Arti.
Arti Usher is a sixteen-year-old girl with musical talent, an overwhelming sense of self-agency, and an obsessive, determined personality who makes her home on the streets of Weameworth. Arti has lived in the shadows of the system her entire life and, due to her desperate situation, has never truly questioned it.
Much of Weameworth’s heritage and culture is based upon the myths and pageantry surrounding a figure known as the First Intendant, popularly known as the Smooth-Talking Man. He is regarded (and, therefore, revered) as the mythical savior of the city, as well as the creator of the Machine.
Arti’s story begins when she connects the violent murder of a city official to her estranged father. She quickly realizes that he has killed for a very specific reason and intends to do so again. Upon approaching the authorities, Arti learns that they will not listen – and, so, with no better option, she decides to pursue John Usher on her own.
In the second half of the narrative, she meets Alame Steward, the eccentric, idealistic daughter of Weameworth’s wealthiest citizen – a man with a grim secret of his own. The two quickly form a bond that lasts throughout the entire story, Alame serving as a kind of guide and mentor for Arti. They ultimately fail in their pursuit of Usher, who continues to kill, all the while taunting them with enigmatic messages.
As the mystery deepens and the stakes grow higher, it becomes apparent that Usher’s motives far exceed those which Arti initially suspected. The man is not simply murdering for revenge, but rather for something much darker that he has wanted all along. During her stay at the Steward Mansion, Arti and her friend grow increasingly suspicious of the latter’s father, his motives, and his potential connection to Usher. Slowly, the history of Weameworth begins to unravel, revealing the culmination of an ancient and disturbing legacy.
When at last Arti discovers the truth, her father, knowing that his daughter must be stopped, orchestrates an elaborate plan to frame her for the murders. Arti is then forced to defend herself before a lethal system determined to convict her. With no knowledge of law and a lack of counsel, she is quickly found guilty and sentenced to death.
At the prison, awaiting the Machine, Arti is presented with her final garment, a white gown, and told that she is expected to participate in the ritual of her execution. Being true to herself, Arti requests to speak to the Warden, who believes her story and allows her a simple, final grace: to choose her own execution outfit. Arti requests a black tuxedo, a pair of dark glasses, and a bow-tie the color of her blood.
I feel confident that one of the novel’s major strengths is its casually validating, understated, and unpreachy treatment of gender nonconformity. Arti and Alame share a preference for wearing men’s suits. The two girls’ self-expression, however, is not the crux of the narrative. I don’t throw it at the reader or beat it into the ground – as it so happens, very little of the story focuses on this element. It’s simply there – an undertone, a clear fact of Arti and Alame’s lives.
It must also be noted that Arti is a rebel by nature, not by necessity of plot. Despite her intelligence, she is also deeply flawed and at times, self-centered. As a 19-year-old myself who was diagnosed with autism long ago, I can confidently state that she is neurodivergent.
The story is carried by its distinctive gothic, literary, almost old-fashioned prose style, as well as vivid descriptions of a decaying urban setting and a constant use of internal monologues. Its tone and setting are reminiscent of Edward Gorey, Lemony Snicket (albeit darker and more mature), Ray Bradbury, and Edgar Allan Poe. Its characterizations are, however, more contemporary and nuanced.
I understand you are currently interested in gothic literature and complex, nonconforming characters, as well as deep-felt platonic relationships and LGB-related themes. I also understand that you appreciate social and societal critique that prioritizes emotional impact over heavy-handedness.
In short, I believe THE LIFE AND DEATH OF ARTI is the kind of novel you would wish to represent.
Thank you for your consideration,
M. Novash