Louise Buckley is an Associate Literary Agent at Hannah Sheppard Literary Agency who hunts for horror, dark academia, working-class literary fiction, cosy fantasy, high-concept time-slip romance, and smart suspense — with a strong editorial eye honed from their days as a publishing editor.
In brief
Louise Buckley operates on a narrow submission window: they are ONLY open for the first seven days of each calendar month. As of 1 June 2026 the form was closed — plan your query accordingly and check the live form before submitting.
Their editorial past — they published Luckiest Girl Alive as an editor — gives them genuine commercial instincts in upmarket suspense and literary fiction, not just taste-based enthusiasm.
Their wishlist is unusually specific about working-class and difficult-childhood narratives in literary fiction, and they call out disabled and invisibly-disabled protagonists explicitly — a signal that representation gaps in the market genuinely interest them.
They draw a hard line around romantasy, epic fantasy, space opera, police procedurals, memoir, children's books, and short fiction — that's a longer exclusion list than most agents carry, so cross-genre writers should read it carefully.
No confirmed deal record is available in the sourced material, so their sales volume and publisher relationships cannot be independently verified; the wishlist and editorial background are the primary signals here.
Lately
Buckley put out a public call asking followers to recommend recent audiobooks they'd enjoyed — a small but telling signal that they are an active, wide-ranging reader who engages personally with the reading community.
Generally I would recommend sticking to the kind of guidelines and advice that is out there, because when authors try something gimmicky it almost certainly falls flat. The guidelines are there for a reason — the information typically requested in a query letter, like title, word count, and a bit about the book, is really important for the agent. And I want to reassure authors that sending something that feels a bit like a template won't work against you — it will probably actually aid you in finding an agent, because you've made it easy for them to have all the information they need.
My number one query no-no is when people don't address the query correctly — to the right agent and by the right name. It's really really common that I'll receive a query addressed to 'Dear Sir,' and obviously I'm a woman. Or they'll address it to an editor rather than an agent, which shows a fundamental lack of understanding of what an agent is. Also, if you're sending to me and he — my colleague — isn't open to queries, then just do your research. As long as you've addressed it to the correct agent by their name, you can't really go wrong. That simple thing shows you've done at least a little bit of research and that you actually want that specific person to be your agent.
One of my biggest peeves is starting with backstory or too much exposition and not getting into the heart of the story. We see so many submissions every day and we don't want to wade through a really long prologue explaining the history of the world before we get to the story. Another really common one is a character waking up at the opening — I understand it appears in published books and films, but it's so common it becomes cliché. Unless it's really vital to your story, try to come up with another way to start. When a character wakes up, things tend to happen to them and they become quite passive, whereas if you start with the character doing something, the reader feels like they are moving the story forward.
The queries that always stand out are the ones where the author seems to really understand who they are writing for — they know the genre they're writing in, and they understand who their target audience is. If you can show market awareness — for example, naming comparison authors and explaining how your novel sits alongside them — that really makes a query stand out. It shows that you can sell it to me, which means I can pitch it to publishers, publishers can pitch it to retailers, and the retailers can sell it to readers. There's a chain reaction there. I should say I represent predominantly fiction, so this advice is most relevant to novels.
If you've previously self-published a book, there's no reason you can't submit something new to agents. Having a self-publishing track record shouldn't prevent you from submitting new work or make me worry about a new submission. The main reason most agents won't take on previously self-published titles is that publishers find them very hard to sell to retailers — retailers see a self-published book as having already had its chance. But that's specific to that book; it doesn't reflect on you as a writer querying with something new. I certainly don't think negatively of anyone who has tried self-publishing.
My three tips: First, make sure the manuscript is truly ready before you submit. Seek out honest, constructive feedback — not just from friends and family who won't want to offend you, but from reliable beta readers who understand story arc and character, or a professional editor. Second, don't put all your stock in one or two agents. Submit in tranches and think widely — don't limit yourself to agents only in your own country, and don't overlook more junior agents who may have more availability on their list, more time to devote to you, and more hunger to prove themselves. Third — and related — submit widely rather than pinning everything on a single dream agent.
What Louise is looking for
Buckley names the current horror resurgence as something they're actively riding and wants more of it across the full spectrum — literary horror, gothic horror, horror comedy, psychological horror, and supernatural. They are not prescriptive about subtype, making this one of their most open-ended and enthusiastic categories.
A clearly signalled want. They are looking for the sinister campus-and-secret-society atmosphere where loyalty, obsession, and betrayal collide. Intellectual menace and literary prose are implicit requirements.
One of their most specific and personal areas of interest. They want emotionally grounded, character-driven novels that give honest, unsentimental voice to working-class lives or children navigating hardship. They also actively seek novels featuring disabled protagonists or characters living with invisible disabilities — a stated personal connection.
They want novels where messy, complicated relationships are the engine of the story — whether that's family, friendship, or romantic entanglement. A thread of dark humour woven into something emotionally warm is particularly attractive to them.
Their editorial background directly informs this want. They are drawn to incisive, psychologically rich suspense — the kind that uses genre machinery to say something sharp about women, power, or society. Blackly comic and subversive angles are especially welcome. Note: police procedurals are explicitly excluded.
They want speculative premises built around time or alternate realities, and the higher the concept the better. A romantic throughline — particularly a time-travel romance — makes this category even more appealing to them.
A genuine passion area. They want warmth, wit, and emotional payoff. Cosy romance with a strong sense of place — an atmospheric village, a sun-soaked European setting — excites them, as does cosy rom-com with a Christmas angle. Emily Henry–style contemporary rom-com with emotional depth is also firmly in scope.
They want low-stakes, warmly magical adult fantasy — witches, magical bookshops, talking cats, found family. Think the cosier end of fantasy rather than epic world-building. They also welcome novels set in the real world with a meaningful dose of magic or the supernatural woven through — magical realism that leans into atmosphere.
They want a fresh angle on dystopia — not a rehash of existing frameworks but something that fuses the propulsive, addictive quality of YA-rooted classics with genuinely bold, philosophical ideas aimed squarely at an adult readership.
Their non-fiction appetite is specific. The area they flag most enthusiastically is motherhood explored through a scientific or neurological lens. Beyond that, they are open to health and well-being, food writing and cookery, human behaviour and psychology, climate change, gardening and permaculture, and nature writing. Note: memoir is explicitly excluded, even though it appears in an older category listing — their own stated wishlist overrides this.
Not the right fit
Taste fingerprint
How to query Louise
Time your query precisely: Buckley only accepts submissions during the first seven days of each calendar month. Submitting outside this window wastes your query — confirm the form is live before you send.
Their submission form is the required route; they also reference detailed guidelines on their agency website. Read those guidelines in full before filling in the form — deviating from them is a fast path to rejection.
Their editorial past is your biggest lever. They respond to smart, commercially aware pitches. Frame your query with a clear sense of what your book does differently within its genre, not just what it is.
Mention any representation or lived-experience angle that's relevant — they have explicitly named disabled and invisibly-disabled protagonists as a personal interest, and working-class or difficult-childhood narratives as a priority. If your book fits, say so directly.
For horror, do not narrow-pitch yourself into a subgenre corner: they have said they are open to all types of horror. Name your subgenre but signal range if your book crosses lines.
Avoid sending police procedurals, romantasy, epic fantasy, children's books, memoir, or short fiction — these are hard exclusions, not preferences.
They run a Substack focused on craft and traditional publishing — reading it before querying shows genuine engagement and may sharpen your pitch language to match how they think about fiction.
If your literary crime novel is not a police procedural, make that distinction visible and early in your query letter — the exclusion is narrow and you want them to know your book clears the bar.