Making this rebloggable, since it seems to be a popular question…
I think the first thing you need to do is figure out your goals. Are you thinking about self-publishing or traditionally publishing? I’m not much help with self-publishing, as that was not the type of career I wanted. There are very valid reasons for people to self-publish: to have complete control of how the work is sold/presented, to ensure that a work not suitable for traditional publication is still published, etc., but none of those reasons applied to me, and I chose to go the traditional publishing route because that was the career I wanted.Â
So: if you want to go the traditional publication route, here’s my suggestions:
Before you query, find strong critique partners. This can be very difficult to do, but you need to find people who are going to help you grow as a writer. Treat it as a business relationship rather than a friendships. Test potential crit partners with a query + 50 sample pages (which is how agents test potential clients). Don’t be afraid to tell someone who’s work is not a good match for you that you can’t work with them. Find someone who will point out both the good and the bad, who likes similar novels to the ones you like, and who has an eye for finding the things you can’t see.
Once you’ve critiqued their work (enabling you to better see how you yourself can improve and to get a sense of the structure of story) and they’ve critiqued yours—and you’ve revised based on those critiques…find another crit partner. Seriously. Someone brand new. Run the new, revised draft by them. You’ll get more comments—and you’ll find out if you really fixed the problems the first reader noticed, as well as discover new problems the first reader missed.
Do that a couple of times until you’re certain the book is as perfect as you can make it. It should NOT be “good enough.” “Good enough” is NEVER good enough. You need it to be the BEST.Â
Research agents. I suggest starting at querytracker.net. Find the agents who represent books like you like. But don’t query yet. Because first you need to:
Write a query letter. It MUST be short, to the point, and well-written. It MUST include about a paragraph’s worth of description of the book. It MUST follow the guidelines in the agent’s requirements. Don’t get fancy. This is basically you proving that (a) you have a competent grasp of the English language and (b) you aren’t crazy. Glitter in the envelope, trying to be cute/funny, etc. are signs that you are crazy. Avoid that.Â
Get your critique partners to critique your query. You want to make sure that pitch paragraph actually accurately describes your book.Â
Get some people who have never heard of your book to critique your query. You want to make sure that someone who’s never heard of the book before (like an agent) will actually understand what you’re talking about. You’re too close to the book to realize this.
After all this…query. There are different ideas of the best way to do this, but here’s what I did: I would make a list of about 100 agents I liked. First round of queries, I sent to a couple of “quick responders”—agents who are online and have a reputation of answering quickly. In my day, this was Nathan Bransford, although he’s not an agent any longer. Get the quick responder responses and judge where you are. As long as you know your book is in this agent’s wheelhouse (i.e. right genre, age range), you can figure out some things based on the rejection. Form rejection? Your query sucks—rewrite it. Partial request, then rejection? Your opening pages aren’t strong enough. Rewrite them. Full request, then rejection? Look at the notes the agent gave you, and judge based on that what needs work.Â
After you query some quick responders and have revised accordingly, start a wide query. I tended to do this: I’d pick the top ten “dream agents” I had, and query them. But I’d also pick the bottom ten agents—the ones who might be new, not that experienced, etc. I figured that this meant, if my book was good enough, I had a shot at the dream agent. But if it wasn’t good enough,  I’d have a shot that one of the lower agents would see potential and take me on based on that. And it also enabled me to keep up with the “revising based on rejection” thing—if they all rejected me, I moved on to the next top and bottom ten agents, and queried them after revising.
After about 100 rejections, weigh your options. This SUCKS. I wrote ten books before the 11th (Across the Universe) got picked for publication—that means I had about a THOUSAND rejections. I almost always gave up querying and shelved the novel after about a hundred rejections. This again links back to my goals: I wanted a career out of writing with the Big 6 publishers, and I figured if my book wasn’t good enough to get an agent, it wouldn’t be good enough for my goals of publication (your mileage may vary; if getting a traditional publishing contract with a large publisher isn’t your goal, this doesn’t apply). Shelving novels sucks, but it did help that I had a very strong, clear goal from the start that I wasn’t willing to change. For me, I would rather shelve a novel than give up the chance of the career I wanted.
Treat every book as a learned process. Chances are, if this is your first novel and you want a traditional publishing contract, you are NOT going to be published. Sorry. But that’s actually pretty common. So learn what you can from that novel and move on to the next—if you want the career, you have to be able to write more than one book. And when I say “move on to the next” I don’t mean a sequel to the rejected book. If Book 1 isn’t published, there’s little point in writing Book 2. Sometimes—very often, actually—a book is doomed from the start. The idea isn’t good enough. It’s not original enough, or it’s too strange to be marketable, or it’s kind of boring. This is certainly true of some of my shelved novels. No amount of editing or revising can save a bad idea—so move on to the next one.Â
Don’t be in a rush. If you want a traditional publishing career, you need to be in it for the long haul. This means you have to be prepared to put the time in to make a book perfect—often a year or more—and when that doesn’t work, put the time in to make the best book perfect. It took me a decade. And I wouldn’t change a thing.