My (brief) Time with a Literary Agent
Two years ago on this date, I had the following (somewhat edited) text exchange with my #1
Reader:
Reader #1: I’m going to have a famous friend! Or are we still doing the you suck thing…
Me: Maybe something in between? I’m sending more submissions right now. I’m not
putting all my eggs in [literary agent’s name here]’s basket. That wasn’t meant to sound
dirty.
Reader #1: Haha. That’s what she said.
[2 hours later…]
Me: (screenshot of my call history) This is my 20-minute phone call with [literary]
EFFING [agent’s name here]!!!!!!! He’s sending me an agency agreement as we speak!!!
Reader #1: (meme with Will Ferrell saying ‘shut your mouth’) (meme with Rachel from
Friends jumping up and down) I’m going to have a famous friend!!!! I told you it was
good!!!! You self doubter you!
Me: I can’t wait to tell you all about it in person!!
Reader #1: Holy crap! This is so amazing! I’m so proud of you! (YouTube clip of Dennis
the Menace with friends saying ‘this is my buddy, this is my pal’)
Me: I can’t stop smiling!
Reader #1: “You look like you slept with a hanger in your mouth!”
I took screenshots of this conversation because I knew I would want to look back on it someday. I was right, but not for the reasons I
had originally thought.
Backstory – Two years ago on this day, I signed a literary agency contract with a “bigwig” agent
in New York City. For an Indiana financial advisor with aspirations of being a New York Times
bestseller, this seemed like a dream come true. The agent was my top pick, partly because he’s
one of the busiest (thus most productive) agents in the industry, but mostly because he is the
agent for the estate of one of my favorite authors.
Early that morning, I had received an email from this agent saying he couldn’t put my
manuscript down and he was greatly enjoying it. (He had requested the MS less than a week
prior.) By 10 a.m., he had called me, said a lot of amazingly nice things about my manuscript
and (easily) sold me on signing with him.
Fast forward two years, I’m reminiscing on this day with bittersweet thoughts. Bitter: It didn’t
work out with the agent. He wasn’t able to get my book with a big publisher. Sweet: It’s still a
fun day to remember, especially the overload to support and memes sent to me by Reader #1
(and my mom’s shocked face as she stood there while I took the initial call with the agent). And
while it didn’t work out, having an agent, especially the agent of my pick at that time, was a
dream come true.
One year ago, that was a very painful memory to see come up on my TimeHop. I was just
nearing the end of the agreement with said agent, and I was feeling very much like a failure.
Today, it’s still sad I didn’t sign with a bigger publisher, but I am very excited (and grateful) with
the partnership I have with my current publisher. Also, today, I can see a few, very important
lessons from my time with my “bigwig”/dream agent:
1. I didn’t know what I wanted from an agent. I was easily wooed by his numbers of book
deals and the names of who he represented. This lesson is nothing bad about my agent.
He did everything he said he was going to do. This lesson is about what I want from the
team that supports me. I learned that I want collaboration, lots of communication,
maybe even a little hand holding. I think I had in mind a “talent” (if I can so call myself) –
agent relationship like Max Perkins and Ernest Hemingway, or more modern example,
Susie and Midge Maisel (from The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel, which is marvelous). But I
never explained that to my agent, nor did he offer it. Now I know better.
2. Don’t fall for the first compliment. When the agent called me and said beautiful things
about Diamonds in Auschwitz, I was hooked. He likes me! He really likes me! In my
mind, no one else would like me or my book, so I had to say yes immediately. I started
to fall for that same trap when speaking with publicists recently. The first person I talked
to said nice things about my book. Even though during our previous conversation, she
made me cry and feel awful about myself; once she said I was pretty (figuratively
speaking), I was tempted to throw away all the bad things I felt and sign on the dotted
line. Remembering how I rushed into things with the agent was the only thing that made
me take a step back. And good thing I did. Since I now know more what I want from a
publicity campaign, this publicist is not in the position to help me as I need.
3. I can survive the worse. The entire year I was signed with the agent, I had huge anxiety. I
kept saying: What’s worse than never signing with an agent? Signing with one and then
losing him. In the end, that’s exactly what happened. And after that? After that, I found
a publishing company that fit my needs better and immediately signed Diamonds in
Auschwitz for publication. It wasn’t the path I had in my head, but the destination was
the same. And there’s comfort in knowing that the worse can happen, and I can still go
on with my literary dreams.
