Do You Have To Pay A Literary Agent?

Do you have to pay a literary agent? Fantastic agent Colleen Lindsay asked a related question on Twitter. You can find the conversation by searching Twitter for the hashtag #agentpay.

The conversation was triggered by a hypothetical question that Colleen posed: What if we paid agents by billable hours instead of by a percentage of the sale?

Do You Have to Pay a Literary Agent? Sales Percentage Model

Do you have to pay a literary agent? Yes, but only if your project sells. And I won’t lie. I sometimes wish that I was getting paid by the hour instead of by the sales percentage. Why? Well, as I’m getting started, I am spending a lot of time developing projects. It’s a learning experience for me, as well as for the writer. And some of those projects have not gone on to sell. In fact, throughout my career, there will be projects that don’t end up selling. There might not be as much of a market for them as I originally thought, or it might not be the right time for them to cross the transom. For whatever reason, there will be unsold projects in my career…just as there are for any agent. In that situation, what does a literary agent cost? Nada. (For more on this topic, check out my post that addresses what happens when your agent doesn’t sell your book.)

The Intangible Value of Learning Experiences

And, sure, it would be nice to see some cash for the billable hours I’ve spent on these projects. But you know what? I place a very high value on a learning experience. It’s almost impossible for me to be disappointed or bitter about something if I’ve learned from it. I try to seek out like-minded writers for clients, those who want to learn and grow and turn into publishing success machines, as much through their touchdowns as their fumbles (I know nothing about football, can you tell?). Of course, I’d much rather sell a project than sit around singing “Kum ba yah” and learning, because I have responsibilities to my clients, but still. These experiences are really important. I’d feel strange charging for them.

The Sales Percentage System Works

Especially at the beginning of an agent’s career. Not only does this weed out the agents who are not hungry, not passionate, not crazy enough to work for, basically, free for a few years just to launch themselves, but it breeds a drive and determination that is an asset to any client. And it armors newer agents for the long haul, it gets us into the right mindset so that we doggedly serve our authors long after cash starts coming in.

Do You Have to Pay a Literary Agent? Billable Hours Model

If publishing were to, for some crazy reason, start to answer the question “Do you have to pay a literary agent?” with the precedent of agents charging by the hour, here are the pros and cons, in my opinion. Remember, this is purely hypothetical.

Security for Agents, Financial Barrier for Writers

A new literary agent, in the short term, would be able to feed and clothe themselves. They’d still make a pretty decent salary and get rewarded for all their editing, counseling, advising and development work. The short-term benefits would be great for the agent. (Benefits? What’s that?) However, the barrier to entry for using an agent, for a writer, especially a debut writer, would be very high. What does a literary agent cost in this scenario? A lot. Writers would have to invest thousands of dollars into launching their writer career — and that project might not sell, after all, so those costly hours would be for nothing.

Except, of course, learning experience, but I doubt someone who has sunk years or their life and thousands into it would feel as peaceful as I do, with my hypothetical by-the-hour wage.

The Question of Loyalty

If “Do you have to pay a literary agent?” came down to billable hours, I predict there would be huge backlash against the system of literary agents. If big houses persisted in only accepting agented submissions, there would be great unrest among writers. Loyalty between agent and writer would also decrease. Writers would begrudgingly pay their agents to “break into the business” and then might dump them once they have an “in” with a publisher, to avoid the agent’s steep hourly fees.

The problems would only get worse for established agents with established clients. These clients would have a reputation. They’d be able to make income off of subrights or foreign sales, they’d be able to sell subsequent books in a series, they’d be able to sell books on proposal. They’d need their agents more for negotiation than matchmaking and introductions. Their agents, then, would be doing much less of that really hardcore developmental, editing, and counseling work. That’s really what eats up the hours, folks.

Decreased Reward From the Sale Itself

Of course, established agents would have many more clients and much more of the business-end work of negotiation, contracts, selling subrights (A movie contract, by the way, can weigh in at about 300 pages! That’s a lot of pleasure reading!), so they wouldn’t suffer necessarily, but getting the deals and selling books would take less time for their established writers. They wouldn’t get as much reward from the sale itself.

With billable hours, unless the established agent raised their rates, they’d also have less opportunity for that out-of-control growth that every percentage-based worker dreams of. They could find the next Jo Rowling or Stephenie Meyer, but they wouldn’t have a right to a percent of that runaway success…they’d still be plodding along at whatever dollars per hour. When we’re looking at “What does a literary agent cost?” in this scenario, it’s a bargain for the established author, but it’s a bummer for the agent not to cash in on some of that success.

Passion Versus Job Security

So in the short term, addressing “Do you have to pay a literary agent?” with billable hours could benefit rookie agents. But it could also make them lazy and never instill in them that marvelous drive and hunger. I’d take my passion any day over silly things like shelter from the elements or job security. Some jobs, you draw a salary just by showing up every day and doing whatever someone tells you. (There are some agents who receive a salary for office duties or subrights work, depending on their agency, but they also get a percentage of sales, so this is not meant to disrespect my colleagues at other agencies.)

Other jobs, where you’re getting paid only based on your successes, you either have a mental breakdown or you become more invested. Me? I like the challenge. I like the risk. I like working my butt off. It makes me a better asset to you than if I was getting paid, sale or no. It makes me more determined to sell.

While I’m no longer a literary agent, I love to coach aspiring writers. Hire me as your book editor and we’ll navigate the publishing process together.

How to Write Fiction: When To Tell Instead of Show

Many writers wonder how to write fiction well. There are all sorts of messages floating around. And I’m here to tell you something scandalous about the biggest of them all: Sometimes it’s better to tell instead of show. Yes, yes, I know. Everyone has heard of, “Show, don’t tell.”

how to write fiction, when to tell in writing — Showing you why telling is sometimes better than showing.

The Truth About “Show, Don’t Tell”

I think I’ll get into this subject more in future posts, but let’s just say that a lot of convoluted, cliché stuff happens when a writer desperately tries to avoid telling (like hammering hearts and foot-tapping gestures, instead of just saying, “She was nervous,” or “He hated when she was late,” or whatever). For now, though, I want to give you a fantastic introduction to when to tell in writing.

I never pretended to know everything about how to write fiction, but I’ve never posted in-depth thoughts from a reader, either. Today’s the day. A few months ago, a reader sent in a very thought-provoking, well-written essay on just this very issue. Here are some of Melissa Koosmann’s thoughts on Good Telling, as she sees it after reading some HARRY POTTER and the thoughts of Scholastic editor Cheryl Klein. This is brilliant stuff. I could’ve talked about it, but she just did it much better.

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I’ve been looking for, and finding, Good Telling in books for some time, but I couldn’t find a pattern in it until a week or two ago, when I stumbled on a transcript of Cheryl Klein’s speech “A Few Things Writers Can Learn from Harry Potter.” In this speech, Klein discusses J.K. Rowling’s use of showing and telling–including the Good Telling I’m so curious about.

Good Telling, according to Klein, often appears in topic sentences–like the ones we all learned how to write in fifth grade. Klein makes a great example of a topic sentence from a descriptive paragraph and claims that there’s a pattern of that sort of sentence throughout the book. I’ve been going through a copy of HARRY POTTER AND THE PHILOSOPHER’S STONE, and she’s right.

Writing Good Telling Topic Sentences

There’s a Good Telling sentence at the beginning of most descriptive paragraphs. Consider this one in chapter two, when Harry is thrilled he gets to go to the zoo: “Harry had the best morning he’d had in a long time.” Kind of bland, eh? But it’s followed by a neat couple of sentences that show Harry keeping out of Dudley’s punching range and eating a dessert Dudley doesn’t want. This does a double job of showing: it makes Harry’s life seem pretty dismal, and it makes him seem like a nice kid. Without the Good Telling topic sentence, those neat details wouldn’t pack as much punch. As Klein puts it, “Sometimes readers need the plain straightforward direction of telling to elucidate the point of all that showing.”

So far so good–but that’s description, and I’m most interested in how to write fiction and how Good Telling works in action and dialogue. So I stepped back and looked at the telling that happens in those areas, and I found that Klein’s topic sentence observation applies there, too. It’s just that the Good Telling sentence directs the reader through a whole beat of text–a bunch of paragraphs rather than a single one.

Telling in Action and Dialogue

When a Good Telling sentence shows up, it usually marks a change: either a physical jump in time or space, or a subtle shift in mood or focus. Check out these Good Telling sentences from Harry’s trip to the zoo, still in chapter 2 of PHILOSOPHER’S STONE:

1. “But today, nothing was going to go wrong.” Something immediately goes wrong. Harry makes the mistake of saying he dreamed about a flying motorcycle, and Uncle Vernon gets mad.
2. “But he [Harry] wished he hadn’t said anything.” The narrative shifts to internal thoughts as Harry reflects that his aunt and uncle hate him talking about things acting in ways they shouldn’t. This segment is part showing and part telling, but it ends with a Good Telling sentence, too. More on that later.
3. “Harry felt, afterward, that he should have known it was all too good to last.” Gulp! There’s a small place shift to the reptile house as well as a big mood shift because the reader is prepared for something truly terrible to happen. Not long later, Harry makes the glass on the snake cage vanish.

After I started to see this pattern, I could detect it more often in places where a lot of dialogue and action were happening, where the Good Telling sentences weren’t so eye-catching. And guess what?

How to Write Fiction Telling in Transitional Moments

There’s a web of Good Telling working its way through the whole novel, supporting the narrative shifts that carry the reader from one emotional beat to the next. Rowling dispenses with these sentences at times when crisp, clear action and dialogue can carry the story forward on their own, but it’s rare for her to go more than a couple of pages without an instance of Good Telling.

I like the way Klein calls these types of sentences “topic sentences,” but it’s normally only in the descriptive paragraphs that they actually state a topic. Otherwise they act as invitations to the reader. It’s as if J.K. Rowling is saying, “Hey, over here! Harry’s stepping into a new room now, so why don’t you come on in with him?” or “Hi again! I just wanted to let you know Harry’s disappointment is about to shift to full-fledged anger” or “Watch out! New character stepping in!” Obviously the actual writing is far more subtle than that, but the Good Telling is instrumental in carrying readers along with the flow of change in the story.

Telling to Get on the Same Page as the Reader

Good Telling doesn’t always show up at the beginning of a beat. Rowling varies it on occasion, usually by beginning with a few flashy lines of dialogue–followed by a straightforward Good Telling sentence. Good Telling also leads out of an emotional beat of the text almost as often as it leads in. After showing a whole string of actions, along with punchy details that illuminate how Harry feels about them, she often makes use of a pause in pacing to state that Harry does indeed feel the way we think he’s feeling. Klein calls this “a confirmation for the reader, directing the emotional takeaway from whatever happened.”

Once you’re looking for it, this lead-in, lead-out pattern of Good Telling pops up in many books. And thinking about it makes writing easier. It doesn’t make for a very pretty rule about how to write fiction though: Show and Good Tell, don’t Bad Tell.

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Can you find any examples of when to tell in writing? Talk about them in the comments. I’ve been wanting to mine my theatre/actor training and how it relates to writing for a while. Melissa’s discussion of beats, above, is just one more reason for me to put on my thinking cap. I’m so happy that Melissa took the time to share her thoughts with me, and now I can share them with you.

Do you struggle with writing fiction characters who are complex and compelling? Struggling with when to tell in writing? Hire me as your manuscript editor for book editing services.

Action Writing: Stimulus First, Then Reaction

I’ve been thinking about successful action writing. When I’m editing manuscripts, I often notice that I fall into trends and phases. There are things I pick up on more than others these days, and those things haven’t always been the same. The more I read, the more I notice, and the deeper I get into my own understanding of novel craft. That’s why it’s always interesting to me to analyze the kinds of notes I give across manuscripts, the things that a lot of writers are doing and why they work, or don’t.

Here’s a note I’ve found myself giving very often in recent months: Stimulus first, then reaction.

Action Writing: Don’t Put the Reaction Before the Stimulus

Here’s an example of what to avoid in action writing. This is just something random that I’ve written:

“Jeez! You scared me,” Anne said. Howard was standing in the kitchen, holding a butcher knife.

In this example of action writing, we get Anne’s reaction to Howard first, then we finally figure out what the reaction means: Howard is standing in the kitchen with a butcher knife.

The effect is jarring for the reader, but not in a good, suspenseful way (which I think is what the author intended). We get something that doesn’t seem to fit (reaction) and, instead of reading, we are now scrambling to figure out where the reaction belongs (to the stimulus). It takes the reader out of the story. (Check out tips for writing a reaction here.)

The Wrong Way to Build Suspense

Now, I know that some people like to build suspense by giving a reader the reaction, then making them wait for the big reveal of what the stimulus is. This fails more often than it works because of the aforementioned confusion. And you’re likely going to reveal what caused the reaction within a sentence or two anyway, so is the payoff of withholding really worth it?

Action Writing: Don’t Introduce a Character with Dialogue

When we’re considering how to write actions, the same goes for introducing a character with dialogue instead of putting them in the scene first. Here’s an example:

“What’s going on, party people?”
I looked up. John was going around the room with a beer in one hand, slapping sloppy high-fives with the other. What a tool.

Once again, we’re left to play catch-up and try to figure out who uttered the phantom dialogue. It would be much more effective to manipulate this bit of action writing to say:

John barreled into the room and slapped a round of sloppy high-fives, spilling beer in his wake. “What’s going on, party people?” he yelled.
What a tool.

We know exactly what’s going on, the stage is set, all the players are in place. When it comes time for John to speak, we know the who and the why and the how of the situation.

Clarity is King: See, Interpret, React

When you plunk a new character into the scene or when you’re building a moment of surprise, remember that clarity is king. Give us a linear progression that goes from the stimulus to the narrator/main character’s interpretation and reaction. This is how to write actions effectively. (For extra credit, check out my post on how to write action scenes.)

That’s what we do as human beings. We see, interpret and react (here’s a list of character reactions for you). Why should our action writing reflect something different?

Do you need help adding clarity to the actions in your story? My editing services will help you smooth out your action writing so readers can zip right through your prose.

How To Write A Book About Your Life: Being Too Close To Your Manuscript

Wondering how to write a book about your life? Something an agent (Scott Tremeil) said at the NJ SCBWI agent panel really put a point on something I’d been thinking for a long time: being too close to a manuscript when you write what you know.

write what you know, writing life stories — How to write a book about your life? If sending your work into the world make you feel like someone else is holding your heart in their hands, you may be too close to your manuscript.

How To Write A Book About Your Life: Red Flags for Agents

Scott said that, sometimes, if he hears that a writer has been working on a manuscript for 10 years or so, that’s a red flag for him. I have to completely agree. Writers who write what they know and are emotionally tied up in their story to an extreme degree are also a red flag. These issues make me worry: Is the writer too close to the manuscript to be able to see it objectively and revise it accordingly? Is it too precious for them? Are they so emotionally involved with the piece that getting it rejected by a publisher will be damaging? Are they so invested in a particular story or can they move on from it to write something else? Will it also take them 10 years to craft the next book?

Working on a Project for Years

Writers who belabor something for years are problematic. I know some mad geniuses like Harper Lee only have one great book in them. In today’s market, though, the ideal writer (to an agent or publisher, that is) can turn out consistent, quality manuscripts about once a year. This way you can always have a next book coming out and you can start building your readership. You’ll have a brand and, twice a year, readers can look for you on shelves — once in hardcover for this year’s book, once in paperback for last year’s.

Excessive Emotional Investment

Writers who are writing about a personal subject that is very close to their hearts make me anxious, too. If you are writing a story, for example, about the death of a character’s sister to, Heaven forbid, work through that tragedy happening in your own life, how will you dealing with rejection in that scenario? Or with an editor coming in and wanting you to make changes? Is your subject matter too close to home? Is an experience in the novel too precious and too reflective of your own life?

In no way am I saying “Don’t write what you know.” Do. That way, your story will have great emotional resonance. And it will be cathartic for you. But do realize that when you’re writing life stories, part is yours and part is fiction. You need to separate which part belongs to you, privately, and which part belongs to readers, publicly.

I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: writing is extremely personal, but publishing is a business. If you don’t think you can walk this fine line with a manuscript that’s on your plate — whether it’s because you’ve been working on the manuscript for so long or because you’re writing life stories — it may be better not to pursue publication with it.

After All, Publishing is Still a Business

The point I wish I’d made, after hearing Scott’s advice, is this: there are many times in a writer’s journey where a manuscript is just a manuscript. Every single thing you write is a learning experience…but, sometimes, that’s all it is. Glean what you can from a manuscript or an essay or a paragraph, and move on. Start something new. You’ll be better and stronger and wiser for it. I like hearing that a writer has a lot of drawer novels, actually, because it tells me one very important thing: they know how to learn from an experience and move on.

This advice obviously doesn’t apply to everyone. Some people are able to run with the “write what you know” advice without entering a state of trauma. Some people take longer to write a manuscript. But if these things are starting to feel like obstacles to you, the best solution may be putting that particular manuscript aside and starting something else.

Have you been hammering away at your current project for too long? When you hire me as your manuscript editor, I’ll give you the push you need to cross the finish line.

How to Pitch an Idea: The Prequery Message

Wondering how to pitch an idea to an agent? Some writers send me (and other agents) a prequery message. It goes something like this:

Hi! I have a project and it seems just like something you might like. It’s about… (brief description) and I’m all done with it. I’d love to submit. Are you accepting submissions? Should I go ahead and submit?

Let’s speed up the process. If you have work to submit, go ahead and submit it.

How to Pitch an Idea: Don’t Send The Prequery Email

This is a useless email and one I’m not fond of answering. If I wasn’t accepting submissions, my email address wouldn’t be plastered all over the Internet. And I can’t tell anything about the project until I read the writing, so I don’t know if I’ll like it or not just from the few lines of description in your prequery.

The submission guidelines are a no-brainer. I request the manuscript query letter and the first pages of prose (or the full picture book manuscript) copied and pasted into the body of an email message. The word “Query” must appear in the subject line. No snail mail or attachments. If you want to know how to pitch an idea, this is it: create a strong manuscript, and follow the submission guidelines.

How to Pitch an Idea: Revise and Submit

My tip for how to pitch an idea: just do it. If you’re on the fence about submitting, maybe go back and revise a few times. If you don’t know whether or not I’ll like something, you really can’t tell that for sure without showing me your submission — hence the uselessness of the prequery.

All I’m ever going to say in response to a prequery is: “Sure, send it along and follow our submission guidelines!” So let’s cut out the needless back and forth. Submit away!

Are you struggling with how to pitch an idea effectively? Hire my query editing services and I’ll guide you through the process.

How to Find an Illustrator For Your Children’s Book

If you’re like many people writing pictures books, you might wonder, “how to find an illustrator for my children’s book?” Does it behoove you to work as an author and illustrator team before submission, or can you submit your text only? I’ll discuss all of these issues here.

This post was inspired by reader, Robert. He has already found an illustrator, and is wondering whether this helps his book project’s chances. He recently wrote in to ask the following:

Is it ever possible for an author and illustrator to collaborate and then submit to agents/publishers? I know it’s not the norm and I know having my best friend illustrate my books makes me look amateur. Here’s the thing: we are true collaborators from the beginning of the project to the end. He helps me invent the characters and even comes up with plot elements and I dictate to him exactly how a picture should look at times. I know publishers have their own in-house illustrators and that it is unconventional to say the least. But I couldn’t ever publish without him. Do you have any advice as to how we should proceed?

I get this question a lot at writer’s conferences. First, let’s talk about the picture book publishing process. Then we’ll talk about working with an illustrator before submission. Finally, I’ll reveal the answer to the question, “how to find an illustrator for my children’s book.”

How to Write and Publish a Picture Book: The Process

Here’s how the picture book pipeline usually works for authors (check out tips for writing a picture book):

Get representation for a text or an offer from a publisher.
Sell text to publisher.
Have publisher match your text to an illustrator.
See illustrations, have varying levels on input.
Publish.

Here’s how it usually works for children’s book illustrators:

Get representation for your illustrations or get interest from a publisher.
Wait until a publishers has the right project for you.
Sign a contract to work on the project and turn in sketches and finishes.
Do revisions.
Publish.

How to Find an Illustrator for Your Children’s Book

When you decide to hire an illustrator for your children’s book, you are, in effect, acting as publisher. That means you will have to find them, give them the specs for your project, and do art direction and offer feedback. Then you will present the entire project as an author and illustrator team.

But how to find an illustrator for your children’s book? There are many venues. The SCBWI (Society of Children’s Book Writers and Illustrators) has thousands of members who are illustrators. They post their portfolios on the SCBWI website, and then you can reach out to them individually. Picture book illustrators also keep individual websites and portfolios, so you can start Googling around to find artists. Ask for referrals at your local art school, if ther is one. Other places to find illustrators are art showcase sites like Deviant Art, or you can post a job on 99Designs, which I’ve personally used for some logo design and loved.

Working with a hired illustrator could be its own blog post, but these resources should at least get you started.

Approaching Publishers With an Author and Illustrator Picture Book Project

Now, Robert wants to know what happens if a publisher is approached with a project that has both text and illustrations already in place, but from two people. (If a project with both text and illustrations came from one person, that person would be called an author-illustrator, and, in my opinion, art and text from a single creator would be a more compelling sale if both the art and text were really strong. Most of my picture book sales have been for author-illustrators.) First, the collaboration should be stated outright in the picture book query letter.

Note one inaccuracy about Robert’s question: major publishing houses (and even small ones) hire out illustrators, they do not have in-house artists. Most have in-house designers and art directors, but designers do not do illustration work. They work on putting together a book’s cover and packaging (unless it’s a picture book, in which case the illustrator usually provides the cover image).

The Risk of Hiring a Picture Book Illustrator

I say you run one big risk with this situation, whether you’re approaching an agent or a publisher: what if one component is better than the other? And since you have a close relationship with your co-creator and love the project as is, you may have trouble seeing that.

If you give somebody a package of text and art, that person will assume that this is how you want the book produced. They’ll see how you’ve executed the project and will have a bit more trouble imagining it any other way. So if you give an agent or an editor a complete picture book dummy with both text and art, and one or the other isn’t working, the agent or editor will think, “Gosh, I really wish the text (or art) was stronger, but I guess this is how the creators envision it, so I think I’ll reject.”

How Literary Agents Work With Author and Illustrator Projects

Of course, both text and art could be perfect, could work harmoniously together, etc., in which case the agent could offer representation to either or both of you and the publisher would issue each of you a publishing contract. And, of course, the project may not work as a whole, but a wonderful agent or editor with lots of vision could see each component part and imagine how it might work independently.

But I find, more often than not, that the situation Robert describes involves two people who may not be well-matched in terms of talent. And that’s the risk. If you’re dead set on publishing this project with your collaborator, that’s fine. But you could be cutting yourself off from the possibility of either selling the art or text separately — if you happened to be flexible. If you don’t happen to be flexible, it could mean not selling at all.

How Literary Agents Represent Picture Books

When I submit, I prefer to submit just text, just art, or an author and illustrator package by an author-illustrator client who has a great grasp of how their two mediums (art and text) play together. I would be reluctant, for the above reasons, to consider an author and illustrator team if the combination wasn’t perfect. I’d also be reluctant — again, unless I had a great match in mind — to pair a text with, say, one of my illustrators, and present both to the publisher.

The publisher has the final say in terms of which illustrator and which writer will compose a picture book. That decision has to do with the publisher’s own relationships, with the prestige of either creator, with how the publisher’s sales and marketing people react to either component, etc.

Keep in Mind When Publishing Picture Books…

In a market where picture books are not doing well and most titles are not getting picked up for distribution by the major chains, publishers often find themselves pairing a debut author with a name illustrator or vice versa to make the project viable. If you’re insisting on a debut text paired with a debut illustrator…you may not have the most compelling case.

My biggest bit of advice is: be flexible. If an agent or editor wants either text or illustrations from you, consider it. How willing you are to entertain other illustrators (or authors) for this project really could mean the difference between published and not.

Hire me as your picture book editor. I can provide art notes, too, if you’re thinking of submitting an illustrated project.

Should I Copyright My Book Before Sending It to a Publisher?

“How do I copyright my writing? Should I copyright my book before sending it to a publisher?” This is a very common question. Neveah asked another version of it in the comments:

What happens if you submit the first couple of chapters to an agent, and that agent copies it?

how do i copyright my writing, should i copyright my book before sending it to an editor, should i copyright my book before sending it to a publisher, how do i copyright my writing before sending it to an agent — If you want to get a literary agent or sell your book to a publisher, you will need to trust your creative work to someone else at some point.

How Do I Copyright My Writing Before Submission?

A lot of submissions come to me with copyright symbols on them. Writers are, understandably, paranoid about someone stealing their hard work or their idea. However, I wish most writers knew what really happens when an agency considers their submission, how long (or not) we dwell on it, and how quickly we move on to the next if it doesn’t pique our interest. Agents receive thousands of submissions a year and, aside from their incoming mail, have client and agenting duties to do.

We have precious little time. And most of the submissions we receive are not up to par and ready for publication. Even if your idea is the best idea in the world, I won’t notice unless it’s executed well (great writing, voice, plot, characters, etc.). If you don’t do your own idea justice, I’m not interested and I move on.

Should I Copyright My Book Before Sending It to an Agent? How Likely Is Agent Plagiarism?

There are other ideas and talented writers out there. If you do, indeed, do your idea justice, I’d much rather take you on as a client, develop your craft, and share in the profit in a legitimate way. It’s much easier for us to hunt for the next great talent than deviously copy the unpolished slush we get in the hopes that we can…what? Publish it under our own name? Give it to one of our clients? Risk getting sued? (Some writers see ideas that sound a lot like their ideas being published, but the execution is usually very different.)

A Primer on Copyright Protection

For those still wondering, “How do I copyright my writing?” or for those obtaining copyright protection before submission, take heart: something is automatically copyrighted once you write it and create the digital file, in the United States, at least. If you’re super-duper paranoid, print your document out and mail it to yourself. Keep the sealed, postmarked envelope around in the unlikely case that a dispute arises. You can read more about it here.

Know, though, that including your copyright information, the copyright symbol, or warnings not to plagiarize, marks you as a true amateur in the submission process and is a red flag for agents. This type of paranoia usually comes from not really being familiar with the way publishing works. The first time most manuscripts get copyrighted is when the publisher does it on the author’s behalf, after contract.

I’ve said before that agenting is all about return on investment. Nurturing our clients and their ideas? Great ROI and totally worth it. Stealing another person’s idea and doing … something … with it? A waste of time.

How Copyright Works in Publishing

The topic of ideas and plagiarism is treated a bit differently on the publishing level. Some publishers will not accept a single unsolicited submission because their legal departments do not want to encounter intellectual property theft litigation. And other companies treat ideas and execution separately — they’re called book packagers.

Book packagers, like Alloy Entertainment, pair a killer, commercial book idea (usually developed in-house, like The Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants) with a writer who will execute it and take less money for their work than if they had done both the idea development and the execution. If you contact a book packager with your idea or a writing sample, they might want to buy either your idea or your writing (on a for-hire basis) to develop further.

Selling a Book Is All About Execution

But, when you’re presenting both the idea and the writing for publication, as one author/creator, a good idea is all about the execution. It’s easier to have an idea than to bring it to fruition in a way that works. It’s much simpler to try for great execution with another idea than to steal someone’s baby and fit it into your own way of thinking. As a writer, I can’t get as creatively passionate about other people’s ideas as I can about my own.

I’ve actually been thinking about this issue, personally, since I’m a writer. I see thousands of book ideas a year, not just in my slush but in the publishing catalogs of upcoming titles that I pore over religiously and in the books already on bookstore shelves.

Do the ideas I see influence what I choose to write about? Sure — they make me want to get as far away from what’s already been done as possible. But with a written and oral tradition as long as mankind’s, everything has already been done. There are no new ideas out there, only new ways to execute a particular story. So my job, as a writer, (and your job, too!) is to imagine a story that I’m passionate about and then put my own unique spin on it.

You Can’t Land Representation If You Don’t Submit

Still, the last thing I want is a writer claiming that I consciously or subconsciously stole their book idea for myself. As a human being, I cannot control what sticks in my backbrain and what might, at some point, whether in an image or a character name or a plot point or a line of dialogue, come out again. I read so many things over the course of a day, a week, a month, a year…I just have no idea what I’ll retain and what I won’t. The good thing is, I have no time to deviously sit here and plagiarize something outright. The bad thing is, I read so much that certain ideas are bound to stick. How do I avoid those ideas emerging in my own writing? I don’t know.

But I urge squeamish, litigious writers not to query me. I trust and respect writers and want the same courtesy in return. If a writer is reluctant to show me their work or legitimately thinks I’ll steal it, I can’t be bothered with them. There are lots of other talented writers and worthwhile projects out there.

Did you find this practical advice useful? I am happy to be your manuscript editor and consultant for writing and publishing advice that’s specific to your work.

Comparing Literary Agent Feedback

In my post about getting offers from multiple literary agents, an important point came up about literary agent feedback. I wanted to expound and also to make sure you all saw it. Seth asked:

How about comparing literary agent feedback for your novel? Is it prudent to make such a long-term decision based on short-term ideas? In other words, does the agent’s vision for this specific novel impact whether you should sign with him/her long-term?

literary agent feedback, how do literary agents work — Should you factor in literary agent feedback on your work when you’re deciding who will represent you?

Here was my answer from the comments:

Oh, yeah! Looking at their feedback will show you how literary agents work, how they interpret your vision, and all about their editorial style. Since they’re going to be your first editor for this project and more, you need to mesh on this level. It’s very important. My critique partner was considering going with an agent and liked most of this agent’s ideas for her very literary, very dark manuscript. Then the agent asked, no joke, “Can you make this more like Gossip Girl?” That was going to be a HUGE problem, both short-term AND long-term.

***

True story about the Gossip Girl thing, by the way.

Does the Literary Agent Feedback Mesh With Your Vision?

I am constantly amazed by writers who come to me after already having had an agent, and the stories they tell about how literary agents work. Multiple times, I’ve been looking at a new client’s manuscript and I’ve seen that something doesn’t belong…it feels tacked on…a little forced. “I don’t get the dead pet dog story,” I tell them (or whatever it happens to be). A lot of the time, the response is, “Oh, that’s old literary agent feedback. They said I had to have it in there because it would make the character’s backstory more sad.”

Well, no wonder it feels forced! It’s not truly the writer’s idea!

It’s Your Story

As an editorial agent, I am always looking to answer the following question: “What is the heart of your story?” And then: “How does everything else tie into the heart of your story?” The key words in both of those questions? “Your story.”

I don’t like to be prescriptive in terms my literary agent feedback, though sometimes I do get an idea that I can’t help floating by the writer. But most of the time, I say, “This isn’t working right here, what can YOU come up with to make it more in tune with what you’re trying to do in this moment?” I never say, “Well, clearly, you need to do this, this, and this.” Why not? Because then it becomes my story, not your story. If you’re looking at how literary agents work when you’re selecting representation, you want to go with someone who isn’t going to write your story for you.

Michael Chabon and his wife, writer, Ayelet Waldman, as the rumor goes, critique each other’s work. The only thing they ever write to each other in the margins, though, is something along the lines of “You can do better” next to a weak or iffy part. I am much closer to the “giving specific critique” side, but I do it in the spirit of, “You can do better.” Because I don’t want my literary agent feedback to tromp through your story and leave my footprints everywhere.

Don’t get me wrong. If parts of your story or a character or a subplot don’t work or aren’t marketable, you’ll hear about it. And you may get literary agent feedback for what might work in its place. But the work — and that includes the majority of the idea work — is up to you.

Trust Your Gut

So yes. Do weigh literary agent feedback for your piece very heavily, as well as their editorial style. I can’t tell you how many writers I talk to — not just clients — who’ve done revisions that they don’t agree with just because an editor or agent told them to. Sure, notes from a professional are impressive and seem convincing, but it’s your story, at the end of the day. If you are writing something literary and have an agent request the next Gossip Girl, they’re most definitely not the right agent for you. Trust your gut when listening to their literary agent feedback, it will never lead you astray.

Are you ready to submit your work to agents? Hire me as your query letter editor and I’ll help you develop a strong pitch.

How to Become a Literary Agent

The “how to become a literary agent” question is one I get a lot, from both hopeful college kids and from people who see what I do, think it looks like great fun and want to make a career change. Well, dear readers, you’re about to get an honest (and somewhat depressing) answer about choosing the literary agent career path. Most agents start out by reading slush (slush pile meaning here) or acting as an agent’s assistant (which I have done). However, publishing is an old industry so there are a lot of apprentice-type relationships at the very beginning, where people learn and work for free. Nathan Bransford has a great take on this subject, so you should read his post, too. You can also check out what does a literary agent do across the way on this blog.

How to Become a Literary Agent: Yes, It Really Is This Hard

Want to know how to become a literary agent? Get a day job. No, really. Most newer agents have a day job. For a period of time, before I saved up enough living expenses to see me through the next year or so, I worked full-time as the world’s worst (I’ll admit, since I was always reading manuscripts at the office) product manager at a lucrative dot com. Yes, while agenting, getting my MFA, going to conferences, making NYC trips, selling books, reading submissions, reading ARCs and keeping up with each new publishing season, blogging, the whole nine. No, I didn’t sleep much. Yes, this is about the amount of time and energy it takes to get started for some people, and the number of hats people usually end up wearing.

Aspiring agents can avoid the day job route if they work for a large NYC or LA agency where there is an office space and they can be paid salary to do office admin/assistant type duties in addition to their agenting. Another way to avoid this issue, obviously, is having someone who’s willing to support you and put up with your lean years while your literary agent career takes off.

The Financial Reality of a Literary Agent Career

But most agencies, even those with offices, pay no salary and are commission only. And you don’t earn the full 15% as an up-and-coming agent. Sure, the agency commission is always 15%, as far as the author knows. But new agents pocket between 5% and 10% of the total sale, not the full 15%, and the rest goes to the agency as profit and to pay overhead. Overall, the money situation is pretty bleak at the beginning.

It Takes Five Years

Andrea says it takes at least five years to start earning a decent living as an agent. I’ve heard another very successful agent say that his goal, when starting out, was: start making money two years in, start making a living five years in. Those numbers are very accurate and that’s because publishing takes so long. For example, I negotiated a book deal this week. This book will come out in 2012. The first payout is on contract signing. We probably won’t get the contract until July, the money for signing until August or (since publishing is on vacation, and therefore even slower, in August) September. Also, part of the payout for that book is, unfortunately, on publication. (More and more houses are breaking up the advance to be paid on contract signing, on delivery of final manuscript (or art, in the case of an illustrator), and on publication…traditionally, the advance is paid half on signing, have on d&a (delivery and acceptance).)

So this particular advance is split into thirds and will be stretched for two years, until the book hits shelves in 2012. Then, the book will try to earn out its advance, which usually takes one or two years, depending on a number of factors. Only then will the author (and therefore the agent) start making royalties twice a year on the project, provided it keeps selling. So, a year to two years for the project to come out, another two years to start getting some kind of additional money for it.

In five years, the logic goes, I will have sold enough books, enough of them will have come out and some of them will have started earning royalties to give me a somewhat steady paycheck.

How to Become a Literary Agent: The Qualifications

Willingness to work for free
Willingness to work, work, work, read, read, read, work, work, work
Willingness to be poor for years (unless you also have the bandwidth for a day job, too, or a really supportive partner) and sell, sell, sell

Here’s how my book publishing agent career developed. I read slush for an adult agency for a while, but my heart was always in children’s books. I asked one of my now-colleagues to let me read for ABLit. She didn’t put me on slush, though. She gave me full requests and client manuscripts to read. I quickly started giving notes and honing my editorial eye. Then all of the other agents started giving me their really tough projects — client manuscripts that, for whatever reason, hadn’t been selling. I started giving notes on those and, after a revision or two, some of those manuscripts found homes. When I did this for a manuscript of Andrea’s, she extended a hand and said, “Welcome aboard!” That process took, overall, about a year.

It’s Hard, But If You Love the Work…

Lots of readers tell me that what I do sounds really glamorous and amazing, and that’s why they want to know how to become a literary agent. It is! I love books. I love writers. I love writing. I love publishing. I get to hang out and have drinks with some of the biggest creators in children’s books. I get to visit publishers and listen to editors talk about books they’re excited to be bringing into the world. I get to meet Bernadette Peters (this has nothing to do with anything, but boy, it’s cool!). I sit next to Newbery Medal winners at dinner. I love this life very, very much!

But the financial realities behind it are not so glamorous or fascinating at the end of the day. Still, there’s nothing else I’d rather be doing.

While I’m no longer a literary agent, I have ten years of experience in the publishing industry under my belt. I’d love to use my experience to help you with the novel editing process.

New Literary Agents vs. Established Agents

Before I dive into how to select a literary agent, let me just state the obvious: I am a fairly new literary agent, therefore, my outlook on the issue is a bit biased. However, I don’t want you to think that I’m trying to sway you unfairly. There is a lot to be said for being the client of an established agent, but there’s also a lot to be said for being the client of newer literary agents. This isn’t going to be me playing the realtor who tries slapping creative adjectives on something undesirable.

how to select a literary agent, new literary agents — How to select a literary agent: time and experience separate established and new literary agents.

So, what’s the difference between newer literary agents and more established agents? Time and experience. As Ben Folds says, “time takes time,” so the only way a newer agent becomes a more established agent is through living and working in publishing every day. All agencies have rank. At my agency, we have Andrea, who is the President, then we have a Senior Agent. After that, we have five Agents and two Associate Agents (including myself). The “title” of each agent depends on the amount of time they’ve been with the agency and the number of books they’ve sold. That’s really all you need to know about rankings. (All the other concerns are internal and mean more to the agents themselves than to writers.)

Established Literary Agents

Let’s talk about established agents and how they factor in to selecting an agent. These are the Presidents or Senior Agents, and sometimes the Agents, at an agency. They’ve been around for (usually, again, this is general) about three/five years or more and have amassed an impressive sales record. They have strong relationships with editors and their projects often get more careful consideration when they land in an editor’s inbox. They’ve proven themselves as people who have great projects. People editors want to work with again and tell their colleagues about.

Pros

Great reputation
Strong relationships and lots of trust
Impressive sales and client lists
Clout, clout, clout

Cons

Very selective, so it’s sometimes hard for a debut author to be considered.
Most established agents don’t get a lot of their clients from submissions — they weigh referrals much more heavily.
The longer an agent works, the busier they are. They have bigger client lists and they’ve done more books. For every book you sell, there is work attached to it (contracts, paperback reissue, royalty statements twice a year, marketing, foreign and subrights sales, etc.). The more books an agent has sold, the more work they have to devote to their existing sales and clients, and the less time they sometimes have.
Agenting is all about taking risks on writers and the possible return on that time and energy investment. More established agents might select writers who are very advanced already, and not take as many risks on debuts who have something special but need a lot of work.

So it’s a trade-off. An established agent has wonderful pros but they keep their clout by working hard and staying very busy. Smaller writers or debuts sometimes feel like they disappear on a bigger agent’s list. When you’re considering a more established agent, ask yourself what is more important to you: their clout when dealing with editors or feeling like a big fish in their small pond? You’ll always get the former with an established agent, but you may not get the latter.

New Literary Agents

Onto new literary agents. They’ve started as an intern or an assistant at an agency and worked their way up. They may have been agenting for a year or two or three. They’re building their relationships with editors and they don’t have as many sales under their belts. In a business that’s all about reputation and relationship, they’re still working on a lot of those factors.

This is often tempered, though, by the reputation of the newer agent’s agency. An agent who is hired by a very well-regarded agency has some clout already — great agencies keep their reputations by choosing great employees. And a newer agent’s senior colleagues are usually great resources, giving advice, reviewing submission lists, suggesting editors and otherwise speeding up the time/experience process. But the newer agent is still an unknown until they get more business. And their tastes and market knowledge are still evolving, so editors take that into consideration when they see a submission from most new literary agents.

Cons

Less personal clout — though they might have agency clout and mentors within the agency
Fewer big name clients and impressive sales
Evolving taste and market knowledge
Personal relationships with editors are still developing

Pros

But there are pros, too. And, again, I speak as a newer agent, so take this with a grain of salt. The pros:

New literary agents are hungry for sales and to build their careers. (Most agencies pay commission only, so making those sales, building those relationships and getting off the ground are very high-stakes matters for newer agents.)
Newer agents have more time to devote to existing clients and might be more willing to take on writers/projects that need a lot of work — they are sometimes more open to the risk of developing a writer.
Most newer agents have something to prove and are the ambassadors of their agencies, going to all the conferences, making the rounds with editors, getting their name out there. They’re on the up and up and have unknown potential — the newer agent who plucks you from the slush might grow into that senior agent one day, and you could be one of their loyal, long-term clients as they gain prestige.

Much like we’re taking a risk on you when we offer representation and start developing you as a writer, with a newer agent, you’re taking a risk on someone who is at the beginning of their writer career, too. If it works out, you could be in a great, prestigious relationship.

How to Select a Literary Agent: Build a Varied Query List

Take these things and what you want as a writer into consideration when you’re looking into how to find an agent for your book. With newer agents, DO make sure that they have some sales under their belts and that they’re with a reputable agency. In this industry, it doesn’t really take much to hang out a shingle and call yourself a literary agent. If a newer agent is backed by a reputable agency, that’s a huge vote of confidence (as I’ve experienced firsthand, as a newer agent with a prestigious agency). If you’re getting ready to query, I’d suggest picking a list that has both newer and established agents and seeing where you get more responses.

ETA: As Bryan points out in the comments below…newer agents won’t take just anything. Newer agents have to build reputations and go out with great projects, so it isn’t necessarily easier to get past the threshold of a newer agent. And established agents will work with stellar debuts, too! Bottom line, as it is in any other post on my blog: write a great book!

Did you find this practical advice useful? I am happy to be your manuscript editor and consultant for writing and publishing advice that’s specific to your work.