Book Read Free

Write That Book Already!: The Tough Love You Need To Get Published Now

Page 8

by Barry, Sam


  THE AUTHOR ENABLERS’ TOP-SECRET AGENT-FINDING TRICK

  Here is the Author Enablers’ top-secret trick for identifying the best and most successful agents in your genre. Go to a bookstore or library and read the acknowledgment pages in books similar to yours. Most authors will thank their agents, and if you see certain names popping up over and over again, you’ll know that these are the names of agents who successfully sell books in your genre.

  NOW THAT YOU HAVE YOUR LIST OF AGENTS

  Okay, you’ve figured out what your genre is, and found a list of reputable agents who represent books similar to yours. What’s next?

  FICTION WRITERS

  If you are an unpublished writer and you have a completed work you want to sell, start by crafting your best query letter, and then follow it up with sample pages that will knock the socks off an agent. If you write genre fiction—a loose publishing term that generally refers to categories such as romance, horror (some say there’s little difference), science fiction, fantasy, and thrillers— then you may want to join one of the appropriate organizations, such as Romance Writers of America, Sisters in Crime, Mystery Writers of America, or Science Fiction & Fantasy Writers of America, so you can network with other writers in your genre. Recommendations by previously published authors carry weight with agents. Also, why not join a writers’ group? The support of a group and improvement to your craft can only help you in your quest to write the best possible book and find representation. You may even end up in a group with other writers who have been published before, know the ropes, and can help you make connections. If writing literary fiction, get noticed by submitting your writing to literary magazines and contests. Build up those credentials. If you attended a Master of Fine Arts (MFA) program for writing don’t forget to note this in your resume and bio, and put those student and faculty contacts to use in any reasonable way you can. But don’t be a pest.

  NONFICTION WRITERS

  Credentials are crucial for nonfiction authors—especially for business or self-help books. It is very difficult to sell a nonfiction proposal to a major house unless you are an expert on your subject and/or you have an established platform. Your platform might include some of the following elements:

  • Media contacts in television, print, and radio

  • A syndicated or regionally popular column

  • A significant online presence (e-zine, website, blog, and so on)

  • Published articles in a field that is directly related to the subject of your book

  • An affiliation with a known and respected university or an eminent position among the clergy

  • Twenty or more speaking engagements a year

  Our point is, if you are a nonfiction writer, generally you need to bring something to the table besides your great proposal that will convince an agent that there’s an audience out there for your work.

  Regardless of your genre, remember to be courteous and respectful when you talk to agents. In fact, remember to be courteous and respectful when speaking to anyone—it is the right thing to do, and it will get you much further in life.

  If an agent is disrespectful to you then you don’t want to be represented by him or her. A good agent will return your e-mails or calls, keep you informed on the status of your submissions, and will send you your payments promptly. Most legitimate agents do not charge fees for consultations. Agents make money selling authors’ work to publishers. If an agent wants to charge you money just to look at your writing, the Author Enablers think you should walk away. And if an agent turns out to be a jerk, crazy, lazy, or just plain stupid, then you don’t want that agent to represent you.

  Tough Love from the Author Enablers

  Are you selling, or selling out? If it sounds like we are advising you to sell out your art—well, when it comes to your book, it’s time to sell, if not sell out. After all, if you don’t sell the book, very few people will get to read it—and isn’t getting read the whole point? If you can’t pitch the book in a clear, compelling, succinct way, then there’s a good chance your agent won’t be able to, either. Remember: the inability to concisely summarize a book is often a sign that the concept is not well conceived. ‹«

  QUERY LETTERS 101

  A good query letter is brief and to the point. It should grab agents by the lapels and make them want to represent you. One page is fine, or two at most. You should summarize your book in a sentence or two, in a fashion similar to the “logline” of a Hollywood-style elevator pitch. For example:

  • In this compelling debut novel, a depression-era Southern lawyer represents a black man in a rape trial; children learn deep, hard truths.

  • In this charming picture book for beginning readers, a reindeer learns the value of his embarrassing bright red nose and finds his place in world.

  • In this epic historical novel, God invents the world in six days and takes a vacation. Capers ensue.

  In your query letter, start by letting the agency know why you contacted them. Were you referred by someone? Why is this agency the one for your book? Next, pitch your book: what is your novel or nonfiction proposal, and why is it a great book idea? If you have a story or anecdote that conveys your idea, use it now—don’t save it for later. Be clever or charming, deep or exciting—strike a tone that is appropriate for you and your work, but do your best to grab the agent’s attention.

  Say why you are the person to write the book. If it’s a novel, what is your writing background? What programs or conferences have you attended? Have you been published before, or won any awards? Who are your literary mentors and idols?

  If your work is nonfiction, what are your credentials? Who is your audience? Do you have a platform? If your book is about the circus, it’s more important to let them know that you ran away and joined the circus when you were ten years old than that you attended Stanford University (and to us, more interesting, but then we wish we had joined the circus). The point is to make clear why you are the person to write this book. But lying won’t get you anywhere—don’t pretend to be someone you aren’t. What is called for is a good fit between the book you are proposing to write and yourself.

  Finally, thank the agent for taking the time to read your materials, and remember to provide your contact information: phone number, address, and e-mail. Allow six weeks or so for a reply, and don’t be a pest—nagging won’t win you any friends.

  There is no exact formula, and this entire process could take as long as a year, or even more. It’s an important step to gain the representation of a literary agent, and there really aren’t any magic shortcuts. Remember, you only need one agent, and it’s worth putting in the time and energy to find the one that’s right for you. In the process you will learn a lot about yourself, your writing, and your book. You won’t just be someone who longs to be an author—you will be on your way.

  To speed things along it is okay to send queries to more than one agency at a time unless you’ve promised someone an exclusive read. If you do make such a promise, limit it to a month or so. Have a clear deadline, after which it is agreed it is okay for you to send your work to other agencies.

  CONGRATULATIONS! NOW GET BACK TO WORK

  Perhaps you’re in the shower, at the dentist’s office, or even at work. Wherever you are, when the phone call comes—the one from the literary agent who has responded to your query letter, read your manuscript, and wants to represent you—you’ll never forget the moment. Enjoy it, relish it, write about it in your journal, call your best friend, celebrate with a bottle of champagne and a great meal, and then get over it. You have a lot of important work ahead of you. Maybe your mother, your best friend, and even your writing group cronies think your manuscript is perfect, but your new agent is likely to recommend a rewrite. It’s a good idea to listen to what the pros have to say and to choose your battles wisely.

  More and more, agents are taking on some of the role of editors, and in a competitive marketplace, no one wants to pitch any book by a new author t
hat isn’t as near perfect as possible. This doesn’t mean you won’t have more work to do once your book is sold; it does mean that it’s very likely you’ll be asked to make some revisions before your agent is willing to take your book to market.

  This is a crucial time in your publishing career, and also in what everyone involved hopes will be a long and fruitful association between two professionals.

  “The phone call” will probably catch you by surprise when it comes. Still, it’s your responsibility to be a pro. Here’s the right way to handle the phone call:

  Phone: Ring, ring!

  You: Hello?

  Agent: Shaquille Farquar? This is Ethel Bluestocking from the Bluestocking Literary Agency.

  You: (breathless, quickly turning down the volume on Yo Gabba Gabba and making the international sign for “I’m on the phone and it’s important” to your highly evolved and understanding children) Hello, Ms. Bluestocking. What can I do for you?

  Agent: Well, for starters, you can let me represent you as an emerging new voice in contemporary fiction. I just read your pages and I adore your writing and a lot of your story line. I have a few suggestions for improvement, and hope that you can send me a revision with some minor changes. Assuming we can come to an agreement on a few matters, I’d like to be your agent.

  You: (overwhelmed by the “emerging new voice” business—and did she just say she wanted to represent you? But what did she mean by “a few matters”?) Thank you so much. What sort of changes did you have in mind?

  Ethel proceeds to tear your manuscript to shreds, but she does so with genteel politeness and exquisite manners. She asks for nothing less than a rewrite that basically eliminates your main character and follows a side plot instead—and goes on to tell you why she thinks these changes will make your book much more salable. You feel a lot of emotions at once—like the teacher just called on you, but you weren’t paying attention and have no idea what the question is; angry; hurt, embarrassed; maybe even scared. You desperately want representation, but you don’t want to make a huge mistake. You need a little time, and you decide to ask for it.

  You: Uh, that’s an interesting perspective. May I take just a little time to think this over?

  Agent: Absolutely.

  You hang up, still confused. You are afraid you may have already lost Ethel because you dared to ask for time to think. You also wonder if Ethel is right for you—after all, you are the author and you worked for years to get to this point. Who is she to offer such sweeping criticisms of the writing you took years—nay, a lifetime—to produce? On the other hand, you are suddenly closer than you have ever been to your goal of getting published, and someone in the publishing world has taken your writing seriously. You find yourself increasingly intrigued by Ethel’s suggestions. You’re not sure what you’ll decide to do, but you do think it’s worth giving the matter some serious thought. You start calling everyone in your writing group.

  And here’s the wrong way to handle that very same phone call:

  Phone: Ring, ring!

  You: Hello?

  Agent: Shaquille Farquar? This is Ethel Bluestocking from the Bluestocking Literary Agency.

  You: (breathless, quickly turning off Yo Gabba Gabba and shaking a threatening fist at your children, who immediately start to fight with each other) Hello, Ms. Bluestocking. What can I do for you? I said, “Shut up!” Didn’t you hear me the first time?

  Agent: Excuse me?

  You: Oh, sorry. I wasn’t talking to you. What can I do for you?

  Agent: Well, for starters, you can let me represent you as an emerging new voice in contemporary fiction. I just read your pages and I adore your writing and a lot of your story line. I have a few suggestions for improvement, and hope that you can send me a revision with some minor changes. Assuming we can come to an agreement on a few matters, I’d like to be your agent.

  You: Changes, huh? What kind of changes? Everyone I know who’s read it thinks it’s brilliant.

  Ethel proceeds to tear your manuscript to shreds, etc.

  You: Whoa, excuse me? I spent years working on that book. I don’t think you’re the agent for me. Thanks, but no thanks.

  Agent: Would you like to take a little time to think this over?

  You: I guess I can give it some thought. How many times do I have to tell you guys to put a lid on it?

  Agent: Excuse me?

  You: No! That’s not yours!

  Agent: Sorry?

  You: Oh, uh, sorry, something going on here. Kids, you know. So where were we?

  Agent: Perhaps we should talk at a better time.

  You end the phone call and hang up, finding yourself increasingly pissed off by Ethel’s suggestions, pushing away the annoying thought that she might have a point. As you sit alone, stewing about the call, you come to realize that Ethel is an idiot. No one, not even Ethel Bluestocking, tells you what to change in the next Great American Novel.

  DON’T JUMP TO CONCLUSIONS

  Here’s the thing: Ethel might be right (she probably knows a lot more than you do about what sells, and even what constitutes good writing and a well-told story), but if you can’t see yourself making the changes she suggests, you shouldn’t sign with her agency. Still, it might be worth taking a little time to think things over. We think it is always a good idea to discuss important decisions with a trusted friend or two. If they haven’t read your work, ask them to read it now in light of Ethel’s suggestions. There is no reason to rush this decision. The important thing is to take Ethel’s criticism seriously and to make the decision about whether or not to have her represent you in a businesslike manner. Try doing a little writing along the lines she suggests to see how it goes, instead of delivering an immediate, flat-out yes or no.

  Tough Love from the Author Enablers

  Be a pro. Writing for publication means you will experience some rejection, other people’s opinions, and endless rewrites. If you’re not up for this, it really is fine to stick to journaling.

  Remember, finding the right agent can be a long and somewhat painful process. You are doing a brave thing putting yourself and your work out into the world, and those are growing pains you are feeling. ‹«

  In real publishing life, an agent is likely to ask for changes that are less dramatic, but there will almost always be a request for revisions. Our suggestion is that you be a good sport and give it a try. Don’t sell yourself down the river, but don’t dismiss out of hand a suggestion that might be creative and sound, either.

  When you find a literary agent to represent you, chances are you’ll be asked to sign a contract in blood. Just kidding. A signed contract isn’t required, but may be more comfortable for both of you. Of course, it’s easier to end the relationship if there is no contract.

  Most author-agent agreements give the agent exclusive rights to represent your work worldwide in all media and in all formats, though some contracts are limited to a specific work or specific media. (For example, some authors have one agent for publisher negotiations and another for film rights.)

  The term of the agreement can range from thirty days to the duration of the work’s copyright. Agents are most interested in signing clients they think will be around (and salable) for many years to come, but as an author, you have a legitimate interest in not getting stuck with an agent who is unproductive. For you, the best deal is a thirty-day “at will” termination provision (meaning that either party may terminate the agreement with thirty days’ written notice). Some contracts provide for a nonterminable six-month period followed by a thirty, sixty, or ninety-day termination clause. You can also ask for an “out” clause that will allow you to end the agreement if the agent has not made a sale within an agreed-upon time limit. But even if you sever ties with the agency, your agent is entitled to receive commissions for all deals made on your behalf during the term of the agreement.

  Most agents charge 15 percent, plus an additional 5 to 10 percent for foreign rights, and many agents will charge their auth
ors for title-related expenses such as copying and postage. Most agency agreements provide that the agent will receive all of the author’s royalties and advances directly from the publisher, and pay the author after deducting the appropriate reimbursements and commission. Payments to the author should be made within ten days after being received by the agent. If that doesn’t happen, you’ll need to hire another kind of agent, if you catch our drift.

  BOTTOM LINE

  There are a lot of people who want to get published. Of course we know that you are special and your work is far superior to theirs (especially if you take all our advice), but the market is very competitive. Agents are in a position to pick and choose. Do everything to make sure they pick and choose you.

 

‹ Prev