u/Few-Photograph-9777

Looking for some feedback on query and first 300 before re-entering query hell 🫠 thank you in advance, critique is much appreciated!

Query:

Dear Agent,

I am seeking representation for LOVE UNSCRIPTED, an adult contemporary romance complete at 94,000 words. This story combines the witty leads and slow-burn tension of Ali Hazelwood’s Problematic Summer Romance with the high-stakes drama of Love Island.

The last thing Emmy Harris wants to do is join the cast of a reality dating show. The struggling actress ignores the message when a House of Love casting producer reaches out on social media, convinced she’d be a hot mess on the show. She can hardly afford groceries, let alone pay off her student loan debt. But when she’s fired from her job and finds out the money she’ll earn on House of Love is enough to settle her financial woes, Emmy heads to Italy to begin filming. 

Workaholic Baz Daniels is the First Assistant Director for House of Love. He’s also Emmy’s former work nemesis. But when a late-night encounter gives Emmy and Baz the chance to get to know each other, Emmy’s left wondering if she’s misjudged the surly First AD…or if he’s simply trying to get on her good side for the show.

After her castmates decide she’s enemy number one, Emmy looks to Baz for help. He agrees to use his behind-the-scenes knowledge to keep her on the show, and their alliance heats up when the pair begin meeting up off camera. But if production finds out about their illicit romance, Baz risks losing his job and Emmy could be cut from the show. Trapped in a bubble of twenty-four-hour surveillance, hidden cameras, and meddling producers, Emmy has a choice to make: follow her heart, or protect herself and her financial future before it’s too late. 

I am a debut author living in (City) with my wife, and I hold my bachelor’s degree in (Relevant Major) from (University). Thank you for your consideration.

Sincerely,
Author

First 300 words:

I’m not expecting bad news when I receive a call on my lunch break. It comes anyway, finding me in an enormous warehouse in Studio City, phone pressed to my ear, wearing a few artfully applied splatters of synthetic blood and a costume two sizes too small. Beggars can’t be choosers, as they say.

Normally I love the chaos of being on a film set. There are hundreds of people running around and a million different things that can go wrong at any moment, so it’s never a dull place to be. An active set feels like a living, breathing thing. Something with a heartbeat and a pulse. The kind of place that gives everyone in its vicinity the distinct, electric feeling of being alive. 

But today? I’d rather be anywhere else. 

“You hate me, Emmy. Just say you hate me.” Sydney’s voice blares through the cracked speaker on my phone, somehow managing to come out sounding both nasally and shrill.

I can practically see my friend pouting, her full lips arranged in that sad-but-still-pretty kind of frown that makes everyone want to hug her. 

“I never said that!” I press my thumb and forefinger to the bridge of my nose, desperately wishing I were in the privacy of my own home so I could freak out properly. “I just—you said we were really doing this, Syd. For weeks now we’ve been searching for a decent apartment! You know I’m out of time. This place has to work out.” I grip the phone tighter, watching as my knuckles turn white.

“I know, I know! I feel terrible. Really, I do. But things are going so well with my man. You know how nervous I’ve been about where things stand with us—I’ve been calling him my almost-boyfriend for weeks now,” she adds, as if that’s some important detail. As if it explains why my friend is bailing on me and ditching our previously planned living arrangements.