February Newsletter
High-Concept vs. Low-Concept
I want you to imagine that you’re a literary agent. You’ve spent the last ninety minutes reading through queries to make sure you’re not missing anything great, but so far it’s been a lot of the same ideas you’ve seen a million times: A grizzled detective seeks redemption while investigating a brutal murder; A civilian woman, forced into becoming a spy, single-handedly sabotages the Nazis; A peasant develops unprecedented magical powers and must save the world from evil.
Etc, etc, etc…
None of it’s bad stuff, but nothing is standing out as something that would pique the interest of the general book-buying public.
Now, imagine that this is the next query in your inbox:
“A mysterious, deadly virus is spreading—but survivors experience something astonishing: lasting peace and contentment. Stress, greed, and depression vanish. While many embrace this newfound joy, those in power panic, fearing a collapse in productivity and control. Campaigns emerge to label happiness as dangerous, and the race for a vaccine begins.
“Meanwhile, Recoverees, determined to spread the virus, believe it’s the key to saving humanity. Amid the chaos, three teens from different backgrounds find themselves caught in a high-stakes battle that could shape the future of the world.”
I don’t care who you are, if you read that pitch, you’re perking up in your chair. You know this is something. Sure, the bones are familiar—it’s essentially a YA dystopia—but the idea of happiness being a virus? Whew. That’s new. No one’s ever done that before.
This is the kind of thing that gets you a call from an agent.
That pitch is for Neal Shusterman’s book, All Better Now, which releases today. I’m not being paid to peddle this, by the way, nor have I actually read the book to know whether it’s any good (though, knowing Shusterman, it friggin’ rocks). I share this because when I read that synopsis the other night, my heartbeat literally sped up. I couldn’t add the title to my Goodreads TBR fast enough.
And if I’m feeling like that, his agent and publisher certainly felt like that, too.
I spoke with an agent friend of mine over the weekend who asked whether I had reentered the query trenches after dropping my agent several months ago. The short answer was, “No.” The longer answer could be summarized as, “No, because despite having written six books, I’m not sure any of them are sellable concepts.”
As someone who is constantly thinking about how to help writers jump the queue in the query trenches, it’s wild how monumentally simple this is. Come up with a killer concept, and your agent and the publisher will sap the magic out of you to bring that concept to bookshelves. The problem, though, is that great concepts are hard to come by, and agents don’t know to ask for something specific because the best concepts are often things they literally couldn’t have dreamed up themselves.
How to Craft a Killer Concept
So what are we supposed to do? I’ve got a few things I’d like you to think about at the conceptual stage of your book:
There’s no such thing as a new idea.
Everything’s been done before, gang, so I hope you’re not reading this to mean that you must either come up with something completely original or kiss your publishing dreams goodbye. Even the Shusterman example above is riddled with YA Dystopian tropes: an oppressive government, rebellion against the system, a battle over truth, and technological/biological manipulation. What makes this concept stand out is the “Happiness as a Virus” angle. It’s a unique twist on a familiar story type, and that’s what you need to stand out in the query trenches.
What are some things that can make a familiar story type feel unique?
Do something fresh with the worldbuilding, setting, or system of magic. Happiness as a virus is a great example. There are plenty of others, though, like the concept of setting a gothic story in the 1950s Mexican countryside in Mexican Gothic, or the concept of powering magic from bone fragments as in The Bone Shard Daughter.
Create a unique or unlikely protagonist. The self-aware robot grappling with human emotions in Murderbot Diaries is a great example. Another is The Thursday Murder Club, in which a group of senior citizens solves retirement home murders. And we always love a good story from the perspective of the villain! (*cough cough* Wicked).
Mash together a couple of genres that don’t typically go together. Romantasy went from a niche subgenre to a worldwide sensation, but there are other ways for genres to cross streams. Consider The Once and Future Witches, which places feminist witches in the center of the suffragette movement of the 1890s, or The Cartographers, a literary mystery about a woman solving her late father’s death with the help of magical maps.
Make bold structural choices. We see this in The Overstory, where Richard Powers interweaves multiple characters (and their unique relationships with trees) over time. Meanwhile, The Booker Prize-winning novel The Seven Moons of Maali Almeida uses multiple perspectives and timelines to tell a story about a Sri Lankan photographer. His life was left scattered in pieces upon his death, so the book echoes that by crafting a story told in similarly scattered pieces.
Regarding concepts, you either need to give readers exactly what they expect, or completely surprise them.
There is definitely something valuable to writing a pitch-perfect, predictable story (a la Hallmark Christmas movies). But if you’re not going to give readers exactly what they expect, you should try to surprise them with something.
For example, if you’re writing a romance, you’re still going to have all the familiar story elements: a meet-cute, a tug-of-war between the relationship working and not working, a moment where it seems like they’ve broken up for good, and then a grand gesture, redemption, and a big ol’ smooch at the end.
In this genre specifically, your love interests should be unique. For example:
One character could craft perfumes because of their delicate and talented nose, while the other could work as a fishmonger who comes home smelling like saltwater and fish guts every day.
One character could be an ice sculptor, while the other runs a facility where they cremate human remains. Fire and ice!
You get the idea. If the structure is familiar, something should be surprising. In this case, pairing together two people who create an exciting and unpredictable love match.
Seriously consider the concept before you write the book.
It’s important for writers to understand the difference between high-concept and low-concept ideas before they spend a year or more of their lives writing a book that might be tough to sell. Know what you have at the planning stage before you get too deep into something you can’t sell.
(Unless, of course, your heart is directing you to write a book that you know won’t sell but is something you physically must write before the story literally explodes out of your chest. Who am I to stop destiny?)
“Low-Concept” does not mean “Bad Concept.”
There’s nothing wrong with “quiet” books (“quiet” books are usually my favorite), but if what we’re trying to do is stand out in the query slushpile, “quiet” doesn’t always get the job done.
What is “Low Concept”? Typically these are more character-driven stories that focus on quieter, more relatable situations without a larger, world-changing premise. Like a teacher who spends her days visiting old friends and reflecting on her past as she tries to reconnect with a lost love, or a woman in her 30s who grapples with the decision of whether or not to have children as she and her friends move in different directions with their lives.
These aren’t BAD concepts, but they are QUIET concepts. There ARE agents who look for this kind of thing, and it’s worth noting that those who do are putting a lot more stock into the sample pages than the query letter. In fact, when it comes to literary fiction, book club fiction, etc., the books often are “Low-Concept.” It’s almost an expectation, not only for publishers but for the people buying those books. However, when it comes to fantasy, romance, historical fiction, etc., you want to find some pocket of your story that can stand out in these very crowded slush piles.
It’s possible to make a “Low-Concept” pitch feel High-Concept.
We don’t want a quiet query letter, regardless of the book we’ve written. Even quieter concepts can be interesting if you can manage the following:
Highlight the stakes. The story might be about an old man trying to connect with his lost love, but the pitch needs to highlight the elements of this story that illustrate the stakes. What’s holding the old man back? What does he gain if he finds the lost love? What does he lose if he fails? Even “quiet” concepts can be amazing if we sell them properly.
Focus on universal themes. Frame the story around a theme that feels bigger than the plot itself. Love, identity, freedom, survival, morality, personal transformation, etc. These can resonate more broadly, as they pull us out of the plot (which is quiet) and get us to focus on these themes (which will help more agents connect to your pitch).
In conclusion—and to be absolutely clear—I’m not saying that the only way to sell a book is to make a 30-foot-tall robot fall in love with a werewolf, who then must solve a murder together in 1940s Germany (although I would DEFINITELY read that book).
I just want you to be aware of your concept and how that might impact what an agent does with your query submission!
The Highs and Lows of Query Month
I spent the entire month of January writing one post per day about how to navigate the querying process, and while some people engaged with the content, it was strangely quiet overall throughout the month. I have no clue what landed and what didn’t, but I decided a couple of days ago that I was just going to post everything on my website and index it so authors can visit whenever they want and use the resource(s) that apply to them on a given day.
It’s a work in progress, but here’s where all that content will eventually end up:
In the meantime, here are a few of my favorite threads from January, some of which you may find useful:
What I’m Reading
I gave out three 5-star ratings this past month on Goodreads, which is very unlike me. It was a good month for reading, which I needed after a sluggish end to 2024.
The Bee Sting, by Paul Murray
This one had been in my TBR since I saw it on the 2023 Booker Prize shortlist, and as a sucker for literary fiction, I loved everything about it. It’s not easy to write a book with literary heft that also manages to be entertaining, but there was tension, drama, and mystery on almost every page. The ending won’t be for everyone, but neither was the ending of The Sopranos, and that didn’t diminish our recognition of it as a great show. Honestly, the older I get, the more I love that ending. Perhaps that prepared me emotionally for the ending of this book, too.
The Push, by Ashley Audrain
I hated the way this book made me feel, but I love that it was able to make me feel that way. Eliciting any kind of emotional response from a reader is hard to do, but this book about a woman who hates her daughter (for very good reasons) brilliantly captured a lot of things I’m sure women think after giving birth and throughout their marriages. It was sure I’d be giving it a 4-star rating until I finished the book, and the ending resonated with me for days afterward. This one isn’t for the faint of heart, but my goodness was it ever good.
Agent to the Stars, by John Scalzi
Benevolent aliens from outer space want to debut to humans in the least threatening way possible, so they hire a Hollywood agent to make sure that happens. Scalzi is hilarious, and this concept was too bonkers not to check out. It was a great read, and not remotely predictable. I also needed something with some positivity and optimism in my life this past month, and this accomplished that. Strongly recommend!
As always, I appreciate each and every one of you! Have a great February!
Hugs and high fives,
-JB