Tuesday, February 11, 2014

Rebaiting the Hook

I don't know how many of you have been fishing, so bear with me here. 

You've got the perfect spot picked out right where the fish traditionally are.  Maybe it's like our old fishing hole - not far from the bridge, just around a bend, under a leaning tree.  You set out with your tackle box, your rods, and your bait.  It's a beautiful day for fishing.  So you set up your chair, bait your hook, attach your bobber and cast that sucker into just the right spot.  And you wait.

And you wait.

Sometimes you see the bobber jiggle a little, but no strikes.  Just more waiting.  After a time, you reel in to see if you can figure out the problem.  Often, you're reeling in an empty hook because all the little fishies have nibbled your bait off.  Occasionally, you see your bait looking just like it had when you threw it in the first time, only wetter.  So, you rebait your hook or not, and cast again. 

After a few hours of this with still no fish on your stringer, you reel in again and maybe try a different bait.  Maybe the bass aren't biting on nightcrawlers today.  Maybe they want a different kind of worm.  Maybe they're looking for a fat frog or a chunky bug - which you can provide in the form of a lure.  You ditch the bobber, add some sinkers, and try the cast and reel method. 

Sounds a lot like where I'm at in the querying.  Well, actually, right now I'm at the rebait your hook method.  Not quite sure what the analogy would be for using a lure.  It's possible I just don't have any lures in my tacklebox (i.e. tasty reasons why an agent would want me over Author X).  All I have is my hook and my bait.  I have to hope that will be enough. 

To that end, I'm swapping out that drowned nightcrawler I've been using for a lively little redworm, and casting again.  We'll see if anyone bites. 


  1. Here's hoping the redworm does the job. This reminds me of a fishing story involving my dad. We were camping at Turquoise Lake, outside of Leadville, CO, way back when. We'd ridden our trail bikes into town--me to grab more books at the drugstore (where I discovered the Mack Bolen series but that's a whole blog post by itself, LOL)--and dad to grab something (though I think it was actually to get away from my mother). Anyway, the guy from Colorado Fisheries was in there and Dad overheard him say he'd just dumped a load of rainbow trout at the stream feeding the lake.

    For those who don't know, fishery fish are disoriented when dumped. We rode back to camp, loaded up our gear, and got to the site just as it started to rain. We stood under the bridge and realized catching the fish would be like that ol' proverbial "shooting fish in a barrel" scenario. Dad was always a sportsman so we came up with the idea that I'd pick out a specific trout and Dad would have to catch *that* fish. Due to the bridge overhead, casting the fly involved even more dexterity. Over several hours, we caught enough for dinner, had a great time making it sport, and cemented our father/daughter relationship. Good times!

    Which has no point where your situation is concerned. Well...except maybe this: If you keep fishing, something will eventually take the bait. You have good bait. We just need to find where Fish & Game are. *nods*

    1. Awesome story of you and your Dad fishing, Silver. Gads, wouldn't it be great if we could find the spot where the fishery fish of publishing wait with hungry mouths for any tasty morsel? Instead it's like a thousand people with fishing poles for every fish.

  2. I love the thought of you picking out a fish for your dad to catch. What a sport! I wish I'd been so close to my dad. Hmm. Maybe not. ;-)

    Reading your post heading made me think of rebaiting my novel with a new first chapter. Or at least, a rewritten first chapter. Mine just doesn't have the oomph it needs.

    I'm not up to even *thinking* about querying at the moment.