Queries, and The Artist Formerly Known as Danette Haworth

I've drafted the perfect query letter. Strong hook, interesting characters, good synopsis. The query is professional, and I believe I can hear the voice and tone of the novel coming out in the letter. Several rounds of critiques have chiseled the letter to perfection. I'm pleased with it.

I print the letter and inspect it—any ink smudges? Any of those black dots that are really dead bugs from when the paper was being pressed? Strands of hair? Dust? Particles of any kind? Did the letter print at a straight angle on the paper? I exhale. Everything has come through perfectly.

I whip out my pen and sign my name. Oh no! My letters are too skinny! The editor or agent will think I'm narrow-minded, closed-up, filled with inhibitions. I print a new letter and sign with a flourish. Too fancy—who do I think I am? I hit print and sign again, taking my time. This one's no good either; it's a schoolgirl signature—too loopy. I'm getting hot, now. Literally. I feel moist all over and my face is full of heat. It must be SSS—signature stress syndrome. I print one more letter and try for a signature somewhere between skinny and schoolgirl; I hope my signature says I'm serious and intelligent but kicky and fun, too.

Recently, I discovered something that could potentially take care of the whole SSS business for me. Here's my name in Japanese:



I'm thinking about signing all my queries with it.