Eta and Agents

Like the sea after a storm. Except in no way does our sea look like this. Not yet. It may take a few days.

We were in Eta's path Wednesday. Eta came in as a category one hurricane and deteriorated to a tropical storm pretty quickly, but it made for one heck of an exciting day. Rain. So much rain. Wind, of course. Driving the rain against the south side of the house until Eta moved on past us. Then the wind shifted around to the west. 

The exciting part - and I mean exciting in that 'let's not do this ever again' kind of way - was every cell phone in the house blaring alarms for the copious tornado watches we had. 

Tornado warnings are first and go up for conditions that favor the formation of tornadoes. Tornado watches are second. They're the ones that alert out via emergency notification systems. When there's a watch, there's rotation in the clouds. That doesn't always mean a tornado on the ground, but it certainly means you turn on the news and watch the track of the cell that's been marked. If it heads your way, you take shelter.

Once the tornado watches and warnings stopped coming in, flood watches took over blowing up our phones. All night long. We're up high enough that we don't need to worry about the two resident gators in the backyard pond coming to dinner. 

What we had to worry about was that big south wind blowing all that water against the house. 

This morning, my bedroom floor is wrecked. Someone with very little foresight put laminate flooring in this house before we bought it. It's a kind that swells up and delaminates the instant it gets wet. This is Florida. EVERYTHING gets wet. And in this case, the storm found a way to drive water into hairline cracks in the masonry and ruin the floor. 

Hooray, insurance adjusters are in my future. 

We're lucky. We have only minor annoyance damage. At least one person was killed during the storm when the water rose enough in his house that it touched a live electrical wire. The person was electrocuted. I'll be filing that under things I never thought about happening with a hurricane/tropical storm. It never occurred to me. 

I know I was supposed to write about agents. So here's my advice: Do you want to be traditionally published? Get an agent. Just know that traditional publishing is slow. A great agent today may turn out to be the wrong agent tomorrow. Ask me how I know. On the plus side, an agent gets your work directly in front of an editor who would otherwise use your MS as a door stop. Do you want to write fast and run your own business? An agent probably isn't in your best interest. Indie publishing is something you do at your own pace. You have control of everything. The cons to going it on your own are that you go at your own pace and you control everything. If you're deadline driven, get an agent. If you're self motivated, consider skipping the agent and building your empire in your own image.

No matter which way you go, remember: There are no 'right' answers, only right for you answers. Also, back up your work.
 

Questions to ask a potential Agent AND yourself!

Literary Agents: someone who represents writers and their works to publishing houses….and film agents/producers, and audiobook companies, and foreign rights publishers, and often edit, and and and

If you’re debating the need for an agent I suggest Rory Gilmore-ing the crap out of it. Pro Con list time! That’s what I did, no surprise, and I landed firmly on traditional publishing which meant: I needed an agent. 

But, how do you select which agents you’d want to work with? How do you know if the ones you pick would be a benefit to your career? 

Truth: You Don’t. 

Situations arise that alter plans. You, nor your agent, can control the opinions of publishers. You, nor your agent, can control the market. There are so many variables that shift around you, choosing a book agent is really a leap of faith—but don’t despair! There’re also some grounded aspects at your fingertips.

Some agent aspects that shouldn’t change with the winds of publishing are: what genres they represent, what have they sold recently, what do some of their current authors think of working with said agent, what’s their reputation—if you can gather that. It’s leg work that absolutely should be done before you pursue them. But, being prepared for the call is also a huge part.

The call is basically you interviewing the agent. So, that means you’d better be prepared with a list of questions for them. And yes, there’s plenty of lists of Questions to ask an Agent before Signing out there, but I believe you should also be asking yourself questions alongside them…and be open with your agent about your thoughts.

Questions for the agent in Red. 

Questions for yourself in Blue.

What did you like about my book?

What do I like about my book?

What work do you see that needs to be done before going out on submission?

Are you an editorial agent?

Do I want to work with an agent on editing my book?

Do you sign authors for one book, or for their career?

Does your agency use a contract?

Are there others at your agency that I would be working with?

What does your submission process look like?

What happens if this book doesn’t sell?

What would I want to do with this book if it doesn’t sell?

What project do I really want to work on next?

Would you support me writing in a different genre?

How many authors do you represent and what genres do they write?

How do you usually communicate with your authors?

Do I want to brainstorm with an agent, or would I prefer to come to them with ready-formed ideas?

As always, there’s no wrong answers to these. But they’re important to ask and think about because once you’re in an agent-author relationship, and working with an agent is a business relationship, you’ll come across all of these situations and more.

I’ve been through this process and would love to answer questions if you have any! Drop them here, or you can find me on Insta and ask there! Otherwise, may the words be with you!

Indies & Agents

Working with an agent: Would you? Could you? Should you?

As an Indie, I don't work with an agent currently, mostly because there's no need. There's no publisher, studio, or third-party corporation who is trying to buy the rights to my work or to whom I am trying to sell my rights--be it in the US markets or International.

The moment a business of any ilk wants to buy any segment of my rights, that's when I'd look for an agent, or at the very least, an IP lawyer. A business is always out for its best interests, which usually aren't my best interests. I suffer no delusion of being able to outsmart an entire legal department for whom IP contracts are old hat, thus getting an agent who is well experienced (and/or whose agency is) would behoove me.

Would an agent take me on? Possibly, if I already have an offer from a large publisher. Depends on whether there is money to be made--now and in the future--that is worth their time. Would an agent take me on with just the catalog I have and no offers on the table? Oh, gosh no. I have nothing for them to sell.

What if you're that one-in-a-billion unicorn Indie author who is approached by a publisher that wants to buy your already published works to which you still own all rights? Congrats! YES, get an agent before you sign anything. Reputable publishers will not balk at you asking them to hold that thought for two weeks while you secure an agent. When querying agents at that point, be sure to put "Query: Have Offer From [Publisher Name]" in the subject line.

Should You Sign With an Agent?

Our topic at the SFF Seven this week concerns the benefits of working with an agent - or, for those of us without agents - times we've wondered if an agent would be helpful or why we choose not to have one. 

I do have an agent, Sarah Younger of Nancy Yost Literary Agency. She's the third agent who's represented me - and I can personally vouch that having a bad agent really is worse than having none at all. But, I do believe having a good agent can be hugely beneficial - depending on what kind of writing career you want to have. 

What are the benefits of working with an agent? Here are three - along with their associated caveats.

Selling to big traditional publishing houses. 

By this, I mean the bigger houses that don't take unsolicited submissions. A good agent has connections - positive relationships - with editors who depend on agents to bring them books that fit what they love and can buy. This means that agents who send submissions to tons of editors in the hopes of something sticking to the wall, are not good agents. Agents who only manage to sell to houses that take unsolicited submissions aren't bringing much to the table either. This also means that if you are happy sticking to self-publishing, you don't need an agent.

Contract negotiation

See above. If you're selling to traditional publishing, an agent can be critical in negotiating the best deal and securing your rights. They're savvy to the grabs publishers can try to sneak past unwary authors. An agent who doesn't argue with contract language may not be doing their job. Also, a good agent will be solidly on the author's team, fighting for the author. Be wary of agents who prioritize preserving their relationship with the editor over championing the author. Unless the author is behaving badly, the agent should always put them first.

Career planning

A good agent can help strategize which projects a writer should choose to work on next. Again, they're going to come at this from the angle of selling to traditional publishing. Now, if you're the sort of writer who wants to work on exactly what you want to work on, with no input and without consideration for the current market - which some people are and that's a legitimate choice - then you won't want this from an agent. An agent can still sell your work in this scenario, but they'll be the sort who say "give me the next thing you write and we'll see." Both of these models work, but knowing which will work for you is key.

Having an agent can be beneficial to an author, but it's not a career-maker or breaker. Knowing what you want from an agent - or IF you want an agent - is most important. 

When To Take the Market into Consideration

Our topic at the SFF Seven this week is our most frequent story starter -- idea, milieu, character, theme, what-if, trope, editor request, etc.

It's an interesting question because when people ask me in interviews where I start with a story, I always say a particular character or sometimes a specific image. But in reading this week's suggestion, I realized that I've changed on this somewhat. It's not that the ideas themselves don't start for me with characters in a particular situation or image - that's absolutely true - but I also have a LOT of ideas, all dutifully listed in my notes. So, as far as a story starter is concerned, I've realized that it is largely affected by the "editor request" category.

By that I mean, what editors are looking for, what my agent thinks she can sell, what my non-compete agreements allow, or - for self-publishing - what I think readers are most likely to pay me for!

In short, what "prompts" me to start a story these days is a business decision. For traditional publishing, my agent (Sarah Younger at Nancy Yost Literary Agency) and I discuss what steps might best advance my career. We talk about goals, publishing houses, possible advance money. We also have to navigate agreements with my current publishers not to compete with the books I'm doing with them. I really love that she brings this business perspective to the table, because I am trying to making a living with my art.

This is something I discuss with authors when I'm advising them on making decisions about an agent. (I seem to be doing a lot that lately.) One key criterion in choosing an agent is do you want someone who will advise you on your next project this way, taking market considerations into account, or would you rather write your next story without input and give it to them when it's ready?

Both methods are valid, and different artistic temperaments work better with each, or somewhere in between. And agents fall out on the same spectrum.

Also, with my self-publishing career, I could make a choice based on my heart - what story do I really want to get out there? - and I've done that. But when I have an eye on paying the mortgage for the next year, I have to be practical and think about what I can write that I'll love, but that my readers will love, too.

A very long time ago, when I was an aspiring writer with a few publications but not much more, a pro writer friend advised me to enjoy that time. He said being able to write whatever I wanted without practical considerations was a freedom I wouldn't have once I became established.

It was good advice, because that's largely true. As a newbie author when you're still casting about for your voice and what story will work, there IS a tremendous freedom in that, a kind that's worth savoring.

At this point, however, I find that applying practical considerations isn't at all stifling, the way he implied. Instead it helps me filter out all the many wonderful ideas. AND it helps pay the bills.

Win, all around.

****
Speaking of win!

Our topic at the SFF Seven this week is our most frequent story starter -- idea, milieu, character, theme, what-if, trope, editor request, etc.

It's an interesting question because when people ask me in interviews where I start with a story, I always say a particular character or sometimes a specific image. But in reading this week's suggestion, I realized that I've changed on this somewhat. It's not that the ideas themselves don't start for me with characters in a particular situation or image - that's absolutely true - but I also have a LOT of ideas, all dutifully listed in my notes. So, as far as a story starter is concerned, I've realized that it is largely affected by the "editor request" category.

By that I mean, what editors are looking for, what my agent thinks she can sell, what my non-compete agreements allow, or - for self-publishing - what I think readers are most likely to pay me for!

In short, what "prompts" me to start a story these days is a business decision. For traditional publishing, my agent (Sarah Younger at Nancy Yost Literary Agency) and I discuss what steps might best advance my career. We talk about goals, publishing houses, possible advance money. We also have to navigate agreements with my current publishers not to compete with the books I'm doing with them. I really love that she brings this business perspective to the table, because I am trying to making a living with my art.

This is something I discuss with authors when I'm advising them on making decisions about an agent. (I seem to be doing a lot that lately.) One key criterion in choosing an agent is do you want someone who will advise you on your next project this way, taking market considerations into account, or would you rather write your next story without input and give it to them when it's ready?

Both methods are valid, and different artistic temperaments work better with each, or somewhere in between. And agents fall out on the same spectrum.

Also, with my self-publishing career, I could make a choice based on my heart - what story do I really want to get out there? - and I've done that. But when I have an eye on paying the mortgage for the next year, I have to be practical and think about what I can write that I'll love, but that my readers will love, too.

A very long time ago, when I was an aspiring writer with a few publications but not much more, a pro writer friend advised me to enjoy that time. He said being able to write whatever I wanted without practical considerations was a freedom I wouldn't have once I became established.

It was good advice, because that's largely true. As a newbie author when you're still casting about for your voice and what story will work, there IS a tremendous freedom in that, a kind that's worth savoring.

At this point, however, I find that applying practical considerations isn't at all stifling, the way he implied. Instead it helps me filter out all the many wonderful ideas. AND it helps pay the bills.

Win, all around.

* * *

Speaking of win!

I'm participating in the Romance for RAICES fundraiser! You can win a critique from me and genre analysis - which means I'll help you figure out the right agent for you, if that's what you're looking for. Such a great cause!

 

Early Stages - Who Should Help You Plot?

In keeping with our story-writing theme - last week we talked about how much space to give to the denouement - our topic at the SFF Seven this week focuses on the Early Stages of Plot Development. Do we work alone, with critique partner, developmental editor, or in a round-table group.

My answer is that this has changed dramatically for me over the course of my writing career - and it can vary by book. Plus, just recently I've done something Totally New, which isn't even on that list.

First off, for anyone who *doesn't* know this about me - though I'm not sure how that's possible since I feel like it's a big neon sign over my author-hatted head - I don't pre-plot. I'm going to make that distinction, pre-plotting vs. plotting. In some genre communities, people are given to calling writers either plotters or pantsers. A "pantser" is someone who is perceived as writing "by the seat of their pants," a description that simply oozes with pre-plotter panic to my mind. The way I write feels nothing like what it seems many imply with it - that there's somehow no plan at all.

Interestingly, there are myriad definitions for that phrase. It turns out that it's early aviation parlance. Aircraft initially had few navigation aids and flying was accomplished by means of the pilot's judgment. It meant "going aloft without instruments, radio or other such luxuries." In our analogy, I suppose the instruments, etc., would be an outline of the story. As far as the idiom is concerned, I found this definition very interesting: "To use one's judgment, initiative, and perceptions as events unfold in order to improvise a course of action without a predetermined plan."

Now, that last *does* feel like how I write. I don't feel like I can plot a book before I write it because I don't know how events will unfold. And I do trust in my writer's instincts and the skills I've honed over time to make those judgments as the story goes. Several of the definitions used the word "intuition," which I think is spot on.

I don't really think my stories through, I intuit them.

I have a critique partner (and good friend) that I talk through stories with a great deal. She's very much a thinker. She plots out the stories ahead of time and is always asking me questions like what is my heroine's goal or her internal wound. I inevitably get irritated by these questions - not that I don't know the answers, but that I can't articulate them. They are feelings to me, not easily definable in a few words. That said, this friend is great at helping me figure out my stories. I can tell her "Oh, my heroine is like this, and her mother is this way, but the hero is this other thing to her - so what would happen if...?" And she has great answers. I don't always use her ideas, but they do help to guide me.

I seem to work best that way, brainstorming what my characters might do, talking it through with one or two other people. I love to do it with other people's stories, too.

Just recently, however, I got to do something new and very fun. Last week I announced that I have signed with a new agency, Nancy Yost Literary Agency, and that I'll be working with Sarah Younger there. I couldn't announce this change immediately, as the contract with my former agency asked for 30-days notice. But, until Sarah could officially act as my agent, we discussed several projects I had in mind as possibles. She picked one as her favorite - and as the most marketable at the moment - and gave me some ideas to think about. What she gave me helped crystallize the project and injected it with life. Which is so much what I was hoping working with her would be like!

This is an aspect of working with an agent that I think some writers, especially those exclusively in self-publishing, perceive as being "told what to write." It doesn't feel like that at all. Instead it's a "wouldn't it be cool IF" scenario. Agents are passionate about books, by definition, and widely read. The right agent can bring fantastic perspective to a proposed project.

But, and this is key, whoever a writer talks to in the early stages of a story has the power to profoundly affect the direction of it. Or even to kill it with careless criticism. Choose those people with utmost care, for a new story is precious and fragile. Don't hand that baby to just anyone.

But THEY Said that Genre Is Dead!

Our new creepy collection of toothy tales, TEETH, LONG AND SHARP, is out! And so gratifying to see it as an Amazon Best Seller. Many thanks to catnip author Ilona Andrews for giving it a shout out that helped push it there.

This week's topic is all about "dead genres."

For those not in the industry swim, this terminology is used primarily by agents and editors. (Maybe by in-house marketing people, I don't know.) They use the phrase in panels at conferences, or during one on one pitches. They'll sadly shake their heads and say, "that sounds like a great story, but that genre is dead." By that they mean, the agents don't think they could sell it to a publishing house and the editors don't think they can sell it to their acquisition board or marketing team.

You'll also hear them say it with confident scorn - largely when asked what they're looking for and what they don't want to see. "Vampires are dead!" they'll scoff, perhaps with an eyebrow waggle for the pun. "I'll set my hair on fire if I have to read another vampire story."

There's a couple of things going on here, one real and one not.

The not-real thing is that this is their job and, like everyone does with their jobs, they get tired of certain things. It's easy to wear thin on stuff and cast your scorn for it in a stronger light than you might otherwise. There's also a huge component to that job that's reading the future. In traditional publishing, they're trying to forecast what readers will want to buy as far out as two or three years. Being able to prognosticate confidently is half the battle. (Being able to accurately do it is the other!) Most of them want to sound smart and savvy, so being able to declare what's hot and what's not is part of that.

If you press them, they'll pretty much all concede that no genre ever "dies," that it's all cyclical, and they mainly mean that it's a hard sell right then. It just doesn't sound as sexy to put it that way.

That leads us to the real part. It's a fact that the publishing market gets glutted. What happens is this:

1. NEW BOOK BREAKS MOLD AND SELLS LIKE CRAZY (e.g., Fifty Shades of Grey, Harry Potter, Twilight)
2. READERS LOVE THIS AND WANT MORE
3. PUBLISHERS SEE CRAZY SALES AND WANT THAT, TOO
4. AGENTS AND EDITORS SCRAMBLE TO PUT OUT MOAR BOOKS LIKE THAT
5. MOAR BOOKS LIKE THAT GLUT THE MARKET
6. READERS BEGIN TO TIRE
7. SALES DECLINE
8. AGENTS AND EDITORS DECLARE THAT KIND OF BOOK DYING OR DEAD
9. NEW BOOK BREAKS MOLD AND SELLS LIKE CRAZY

So, really, it's not like a genre dies on its own. Arguably the industry flogs it to death and leaves it dying on the compost heap.

Still, what authors need to know is that a "dead genre" doesn't mean there's not a market for it. It means they're unlikely to interest an agent in it or sell it to a publishing house.

It doesn't mean that the well-established authors in the field aren't still producing and selling books. They very likely are.

It doesn't mean that self-published books in the genre won't sell well. They very well might! But a little numbers comparison explains that. If an author self-publishes a book and sells 1,000 copies for $2.99, she makes $2,000 on it. Considering that she likely spent no more than $1,500 producing the book, she's already ahead. If she sells 5,000 copies, she's made over $10,000; if 15,000 copies, she's made over $30,000. That's a decent income.

Now, to many publishing houses, selling 15,000 copies is a failed book. They work on an entirely different scale. 

It all depends on what you're trying to do. 

Wait! Don't Burn that Bridge!

You'll hear this advice a lot in the publishing world: Don't Burn Bridges. In case the metaphor escapes you, it means to avoid ending professional relationships in a way leaves a chasm between you that can never be breached.

This is because the publishing world is SMALL. It doesn't feel like it when you're a newbie. It feels really huge, populated by enormous bookstores and libraries, shelved with thousands upon thousands of books. The authors of those books seem to be innumerable, with Jane Austen's novels made in to movies right and left and Molly O'Keefe's showcased in Marvel's Latest.

The people who agent and edit these books, they're names without faces - perhaps with a backdrop of New York City skyscrapers behind them. It doesn't seem possible that this is a relatively tiny microcosm and everybody knows each other.

But they do. They so do.

For example, I know Molly, whose book is being read by Harley Quinn in the newly released Suicide Squad movie. Molly's my friend - we've had drinks together, done an anthology together, and she even read one of my drafts and told me why it wasn't working (the mark of a TRUE writer friend!). She has no idea how her book ended up in Harley Quinn's hands during the filming - just that it was in New York and somehow someone handed Margot Robbie *that* romance novel.

Not only is it a much smaller world than one would think, serendipity plays a huge role in it.

I was reflecting yesterday on my fiction-writing career thus far. I saw someone I've known since 2008 - eight years that feel like many more at this point, because she and I have traveled so far since then. We used to be critique partners (CPs) and were shopping our first novels at the same time. We had a brothers-in-arms type friendship. (I really wish there was a female metaphor for this. Sisters-in-short-skirts?) She went on to found her own publishing house. We haven't had a conversation in something like seven years, but yesterday we were at a writers event together.

It's a really small community, people. You're going to run into the same people over and over again.

Recently on an author loop, I saw someone asking for advice on firing her agent. I advised a personal conversation. It's not easy - confrontation of any sort never is - but it's like breaking up. Some relationships demand that level of in-person respect. I was the lone voice, however. Everyone else spoke up and said to send a certified letter.

Now, most agency contracts specify that - that the relationship should be dissolved in writing. But I *strongly* believe this should happen AFTER the personal conversation. Let me tell you why.

I was at a conference with my agent and a well-known author had just fired her agent, via certified letter. My agent's best friend worked at the same agency as the fired agent, who was someone I also knew and had had drinks with. The fired agent was devastated. She'd had no idea anything was wrong. Imagine thinking your marriage is fine and getting divorce papers in the mail. As a result, ALL the agents were upset. The author's name was on all their lips that week, and not in the best light. Another story that an agent friend told me. An author was deciding between several agents. She asked my friend for an example letter she could send to decline representation. My friend, under the impression that this author planned to sign with her, happily provided the letter. Which the author then turned around and mailed to her, via certified letter.

Can you see how this leaves a bad taste in people's mouths? First of all, it's unnecessarily callous to people who ARE human beings and whose feelings can be hurt in the same way as anyone. Also, it creates a reputation.

I've heard it said that being an author who works successfully in the industry requires three things: 1) excellent work, 2) ability to meet deadlines, and 3) being enjoyable to work with. Also, that you can have two of those three qualities and still do well, but not only one.

And, let's face it, we all miss deadlines from time to time.

Sure, I hear you saying, but self-publishing changes all this! Screw New York and working with those people! And, yes, one of the authors I mentioned is going to self-publishing and more power to her. I hope she does fantastically well. I consider her a friend and I love her books.

The thing is, it's a small community, and when we burn a bridge, everyone nearby feels the heat and chokes on the smoke. And there's no reason to do it. Every once in a while, a relationship goes up in flames and all you can do is try to escape with your skin intact. But, if you can help it, do your best to cut that cord with cordiality. The industry constantly changes and you never know when that person might walk into your life again.

When you run into them years later, you'll be glad you did.

Besides, it's the human way to behave.