“This is how you do it.” How often do writers in this business hear that silly phrase? Some writer or editor or agent telling the young writer to do something as if that something was set in stone. Nope. The truth is that nothing in this business is set in stone.
Nothing.
For example, a wonderful new professional writer in one of the workshops here e-mailed a well-written query with ten sample pages and a synopsis of the novel off to an editor in New York from the workshop. The next morning she came out of her room smiling. The editor had asked to see the entire book. So being am imp, I went to that publisher’s website and printed off the guidelines, which said in huge letters “No electronic submissions and absolutely no unagented submissions.”“ Lucky for her she hadn’t bothered to look at the guidelines or listen to all the people who said she needed an agent and believe there was only one way to get her book read at that company.
Nothing in this business is set in stone. Nothing.
Of course, that little story about not looking at guidelines will cause massive anger to come at me I’m sure. So before you go tossing bricks at my house because you need a rule to follow, let me back up and try to explain what I am saying here. Then you can toss the brick.
ALL WRITERS ARE DIFFERENT
How many hundreds of times have I repeated that statement in these chapters and in the comments following them? Perfectly good advice for one writer will be flat wrong for the writer standing beside him. Some writers need agents, other writers a current agent rewriter would kill their work. Some writers know business, other writers need help figuring out how to balance a checkbook and wouldn’t understand cash flow in a flood of money.
So how do writers learn? And how can those of us who have walked this publishing road help out the newer professionals coming in? Carefully is my answer. But now let me try to expand on that.
How do writers learn?
1) Take every statement by any WRITER, including me, with your bull detector turned on. If it doesn’t sound right for some reason, ignore it. It may be right for the writer speaking and wrong for you. And for heaven’s sake, be extra, extra careful when you listen to any writer who is not a long distance down the publishing road ahead of you. Some of the stupidest advice I have ever heard has come from writers with three or four short story sales talking like they understand the publishing business and think that everything they say is a rule.
2) Take any statement by any EDITOR through a filter. Ask yourself why they are saying what they are saying, what corporate purpose does it fill, and can you use it to help you. Remember, editors are not writers. And they only know what they need in their one publishing house. Editors have the best of intentions to help writers. Honest, they do. But they often do not understand how writers make money, and most think that most writers can’t make a living, since all they see are the small advances to writers they are paying. Just nod nicely when they start into that kind of stuff and move on. And remember, they always have a corporate agenda. It’s the nature of their job.
3) Take any statement from an AGENT with a giant salt shaker full of salt. Agents are not writers, agents can’t help you rewrite, and they only know about ten editors and thus not the big market. If any agent is flat telling you that you must do something, and it sounds completely wrong to you, my suggestion to you is RUN! Remember, agents have an agenda. It is not your agenda. It is their agenda. Read the previous agent chapters in this book and the comments following them.
So how do writers learn? By going to lots and lots of conferences and listening to hundreds of writers and editors and taking only the information that seems right to you. Read lots and lots of books by writers and only take what seems right for you. Learn business, basic business, and apply that to writing as well. Writing is a business, a very big business.
And keep writing and practicing and mailing.
How Can Professional Writers Help Newer Writers?
1) Keep firmly in mind that your way, the way you broke in might be wrong for just about everyone else in the room listening to you. Especially today, when the world of publishing is shifting so fast it’s hard for anyone to keep up. A story about your first sale in 1992 as a way to do it just won’t be relevant in any real way to a new writer in 2010. Be clear that you understand that.
2) Keep abreast of what the newer writers are facing. I get angry at times because newer writers keep accusing me of having some advantage. I don’t, really. I have years more of practice, sure, and I have a better cover letter, and I know how to write a pitch and query and cover blurb that will sell. A new writer can learn all that as well with practice.
I still have to mail my work to editors just like everyone else. There is no secret road to selling just because you have done it before. I wish like hell there was, but alas, if it exists, I haven’t found the entrance ramp yet. So to help myself, I keep abreast of what newer writers are facing, I help teach them how to get through the blocks, so I also know how to do it with my work. Duh. I learn from them as I teach them.
3) Stay informed as to the changes in publishing and don’t be afraid of the new technology. Bragging that you belong to the Church of Luddite or that you won’t touch any Apple product or that you hate smart phones sure won’t install a lot of confidence in the newer writers who live with this modern publishing world and use the new technology. And wishing things would go back to the way they were just doesn’t help either. And for heaven’s sake, understand sampling.
Newer Writers Need Set Rules.
Writers, especially newer writers are hungry for set rules. This business is fluid and crazy most of the time, and the need for security screams out in most of us. So in the early years we search for “rules” to follow, shortcuts that will cut down the time involved, secret handshakes that will get us through doors. It is only after a lot of time that professional writers come to realize that the only rules are the ones we put on ourselves.
Writers are people who sit alone in a room and make stuff up. The problem we have is that when we get insecure without rules, we make stuff up as well. When we don’t understand something, we make something up to explain it. Then when someone comes along with a “this is how you do it” stated like a rule, you jump to the rule like a drowning man reaching for a rope. And when someone else says “Let go of the rope to make it to safety,” you get angry and won’t let go of that first safety line.
In all these chapters that’s what I’ve been telling you to do: Let go of the rope and trust your own talents and knowledge. And trust me, behind the scenes it has caused some very “interesting” letters from writers mad at me for challenging their lifeline rules.
That desire for safety and rules is one of the reasons that so many myths have grown up in this business. Rules/myths like you must rewrite everything, you must have an agent, you must do self-promotion, you don’t dare write fast or it will be bad. Rule upon rule upon rule, all imposed from the outside. Most are just bad advice believed by the person giving the advice at the time.
The key is to let go of the rope, swim on your own, and find out what works for you. If you believe you must rewrite, write a story or two and mail them without rewrites to see what happens. If you are having no luck having an agent read your work, send it to editors instead. If you think you can’t write more than 500 words a day, push a few days to double or triple that and see what happens. Push and experiment and find out what is right for you. Will it scare you? Yes. But I sure don’t remember anyone telling me this profession was easy or not scary. Those two things are not myths just yet.
Okay, all that said, here are a few major areas where following rules blindly can be dangerous to writers. I have talked about a lot of these already but want to hit on these special ones again.
1) “You must rewrite.”
This is just silly, since writing comes out of the creative side of our brains and rewriting comes from the critical learned side. Creative side is always better. But again, this is different for every writer no matter what level. Some writers never rewrite other than to fix a few typos, others do a dozen drafts, and both sell. Those professionals have figured out what is best for them. But if a younger writer listens to someone who says you MUST rewrite everything, it could kill that writer’s voice. This rule is just flat destructive. Keep your guard up on this one. Experiment on both sides and then do what works for you.
2) “You must have an agent.”
This is such bad advice for such a large share of writers these days, it’s scary. I’ve talked about this myth in a bunch of chapters. These days there are many ways of not needing an agent. Using an intellectual copyright attorney is one way. Cheap and you don’t have to pay them 15% of everything. Doing it yourself is fine as well. Or hiring an agent just for one project at a time is fine as well. Read all my chapters on this one and then decide what you feel right about. And remember the old saying that the agent you can get as an unsold writer is not the agent you will want when you start selling. You don’t need an agent to sell a book. But again, every writer is different. Just don’t take the agent myth as a truth. Figure out what works for you.
3) “Editors don’t like (blank) so you shouldn’t write that way.”
I can’t begin to tell you how many thousand times I have answered questions like “Can I write in first person? Editor’s don’t like that.” No rules, just write your own story with passion and then send it to editors. If they don’t like it, they will send you a rejection. No big deal. Stop worrying about what editors or agents want and write what you want. Be an artist, not some sick puppy licking the boots of editors and agents looking for the secret. Think for yourself, be yourself, write your own stuff. No rules.
4) “It’s a tight market so you need to do (blank).”
You want a secret? It’s always been a tight market. Things are always changing in publishing. Right now there are more books being published every year than ever before, more markets, more ways for writers to make money. This silly “tight market” statement always sounds so full of authority coming from some young agent. And it will drive a new writer into doing a dozen rewrites on a novel for someone who really doesn’t know what they are talking about. Caution when you hear those words. It should be a huge RED FLAG. I know, I heard them in the 1970s and 1980s and 1990s and every year lately. Just silly. It is nothing more than a statement to discourage writers. Don’t listen to it. Publishing is always looking for good books and new writers. And it has always been tight in one way or another.
A Brand New World
Right now publishing is going through some changes, all rotating around distribution for the most part. Writers have been so shut out with the system in New York that they are turning more and more to taking control of various aspects of their own work. POD and electronic publishing is allowing authors to become both writer and publisher and electronic distribution is allowing readers to find more work from their favorite writers, often either new work, dangerous work, or work long out of print..
This new area of publishing is quickly becoming full of “rules” and future myths. For the longest time publishing your own work was looked down on by “the ruling class” (whoever they are). Now, except for a few holdouts in the basements of the Church of Luddite, writers are taking the new technologies and running with them. Before you run that way because selling to major markets is too hard, be cautious. There are no rules, but there are some things that are common sense.
Common sense #1: It takes a lot of practice to become a professional-level storyteller. You may think your first story or novel is brilliant because you rewrote it ten times and your workshop loved it, but alas, it might not be yet. In this new market, just as in the old one, the readers will judge. You might want to hold off putting up that first work until you have a few more hundreds of thousands of words through your fingers. You want readers coming to your work because they heard it was good, not to laugh at it.
Common sense #2: New York publishers can get your book into the hands of thousands and thousands of readers and help your online sales of your other works. So why not spend a year or so trying to sell to New York first before self-publishing. What can it hurt? My wife, Kristine Kathryn Rusch, did a wonderful post on her Freelancers Survival Guide about giving up on your own work. Might want to read it right here and come back.
Common sense #3: This area of electronic publishing is so new that no one really knows how this is going to shape out. I have my opinions and Kris has her opinions and we are both taking published stories from our past and getting them up in electronic form for readers to find. But we may be wrong, and any other “expert” may be wrong. In this new side of publishing, keep your mind wide open and follow all news and make no rules.
Again, in this area, there is no right way. Just do what feels right for your writing and ignore anyone trying to give you a rule.
NOW I’M TAKING THE ROPE AWAY.
As I said above, writers tend to have this fantastic need for rules. We all want to make some sort of order out of this huge business. And actually, there is order if you know where to look and how to look. So instead of giving you rules, let me help you find order without myths and rules.
1) Publishing is a business. A large business run by large corporations. If you remember that, learn basic business, understand corporation politics and thinking, most everything that happens will make some sort of sense. Don’t take anything personally. It’s just business and that is the truth.
2) All writers write differently. And that includes you. My way of producing words won’t be correct for anyone but me. So instead of listening to others looking for the secret, just go home, sit down at your writing computer, and experiment with every different form and method until you find the way that produces selling fiction. Find your own way to produce words that sell.
3) Learning and continuing to learn is critical. This business keeps changing and the only way to stay abreast of the changes is to go out and keep learning and talk with other writers and find advice that makes sense to you and your way. Go to workshops, conferences, conventions and anything else you can find to get bits of learning. Read everything you can find about the business. My goal on this is learn one thing new every week at least. I’ve been doing that since my early days and it has worked for me, and kept me focused on learning. Find what works for you.
I know those three things don’t seem to give you any secrets, don’t really show you the path to selling. But actually, they do. And if you just keep them in mind and don’t allow yourself to get caught in strange rules and myths, you will move faster toward your goal, whatever that goal in writing may be.
It’s your writing, it’s your art. Stop looking for the secrets and stand up for your work. Trust your own voice, your own methods of working. Get your work to editors who will buy it. And if your methods are not producing selling work, try something new.
Keep learning. Keep practicing your art.
The only right way in this business is your way.
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Copyright 2010 Dean Wesley Smith
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Because of the new world and technology, my magic bakery got a lot more valuable lately. This is now part of my inventory in my bakery. (Confused on that, read the Killing the Sacred Cows of Publishing post about making money with writing.) I’m giving you this small slice as a sample. I’m giving you a taste, but not selling any of the pie.
If you feel this helped you in any way, toss a tip into the tip jar on the way out of the Magic Bakery.
And I would like to thank all the fine folks who have donated. Once this book is done, I will send you a copy. The donations and the comments both after the posts and privately are really keeping me going on this. Thanks!
If you can’t afford to donate, please feel free to pass this chapter along to others who might get some help from it. Every week or so I will be adding a new chapter on the myths and sacred cows of publishing. Stay tuned. Upcoming are chapters on bestsellers, losing control of your writing, having it made, speed equals making money, more on agents, and so much more. This business has a lot of myths. An entire book full.
Thanks, Dean
Dean, I think about the “pitching” topic for several reasons.
One is that, although I don’t write romance anymore, I’m still close to the romance community (having started my career with 14 romance novls), and the romance convention circuit has an established structure of scheduling pitch appointments (sometimes for an extra fee) between aspiring writers and editors/agents. (The value of these appointments with editors, of course, is that when the editor says (almost inevitably), “sure, send to me,” you can have thus bypassed the supposed “requirement” to submit via an agent.) So there is a LOT of discussoin about pitching in romance, and erroneous focus on verbal pitching skills. (I sold 14 romance novels without ever once opening my mouth, in that respect. I don’t pitch.)
The other is that various sf/f old-timers, whose business method is from a different era (though it still works for them) sometimes, in a veyr well-meaning way, place so much pressure on the young and aspiring writers whom they’re assisting and mentoring that -I- then wind up finding a sweating, panting, red-faced, anxious, weepy, nauseated young writer babbling hysterically to me about (a) being afraid to face their mentor-writer because they haven’t yet sold any projects at the con we’re all at (I point out that -I- have no sold any projects at the con, either; I sell my projects in the calm, professional, quiet of my own home, by email and phone, with pen and notebook handy, thanks); (b) or being sick with anxiety before a session or party or getting on an elevator, because there’s an editor there whom they “must” pitch and their practically convulsed with nerves ; or (c) laughing ruefully because their mentor has just given them a shake-down for NOT yet having sold anything at the convention (I point out that I am under contract for 3 books and 2 short stories, none of which -I- sold at conventions); or (d) shaking with fear that they’ll never have a career because, in contrast to the advice of their mentor, they don’t feel comfortable trying to waylay editors for deals at parties or in the bar (something I certainly wouldn’t feel comfortable doing either).
This is why I think about the pitching topic.
“I was drinking water when I read this. I blame you. I insist you come clean up this keyboard.”
I’m terribly sorry about that, Laura, but I stand by my response to Agent Lady.
At least it wasn’t beer. Far too hot these days for beer spillage. Fruit flies and gnats and such. Ick.
Okay so this whole agent discussion begs a question. One thing that we’ve been talking about in this post and in others is that reading slush is a time waster for agents, that they could be using their time more wisely, i.e. doing things that actually earn them money.
This got me to wondering: an established agent can, maybe, rely on his or her reputation to attract new clients, but what about someone just starting out? Ideally how would a new agent go about finding clients? Not to sound arrogant, but even if I did get an agent, I’m fairly certain that I wouldn’t want a rookie.
So having said that I couldn’t think of how a new agent would get clients to start other than reading slush. Maybe it’s like sales in that in the beginning you have to do these types of activities and move to referrals and word of mouth as fast as possible.
Steve,
I’m with Laura on this one. But that said, agents get their clients from referrals, not reading slush.
I know of two agents who only have 15 clients and do just fine, deciding as a business decision to push the 15 clients they do have and give them attention and make them money. Very smart agents who are having no issue making ends meet, and wouldn’t look at a slush pile on threat of death.
Some top agents have 40 clients with the same attitude, and when you have 40 clients you are focusing on and making money for, then referrals come naturally faster than you dare take on anyone new.
On the writer side, I have always said exactly what Laura said. You get a top agent after you sell a book. Never before.
Trying to get an agent before you sell a book is just silly at best and shows no sense of how this business works and how good agents work. But alas, what do I know? As people will tell you, I don’t know what young writers go through because I’m only a Star Trek writer. (grin)
By the way, I’ve been keeping a rough count of the writers who attend workshops here and have sold books. Of the 24 who sold first books in the last two-three years (that I know of…some don’t report in) all but three sold the first books without agents. One of the three stumbled onto a super agent who liked the project and sold it for large money. Of the ones I know, about ten went through the entire process without an agent on board at all. And a couple have fired the agent they got already. A couple went through the process, hired good agents after the offer, and are happy so far. A number of them couldn’t even get a good agent with a book offer. That’s how stupid the agent world is getting.
Not much of a sampling, but since I work closely with these newer professionals, I know how it is going with them.
Steve, the discussion only begs the question on that score if it’s a subject I’m interested in or a problem I want to solve.
It’s not and I don’t. I’m a writer, and the problems of the writer are those I’m interested in addressing and (at least for myself) solving.
Since I was not interested in working with rookie agents, back when I wanted to work with an agent, the way I solved that problem (sort of by default, since I couldn’t get an established agent to represent me when -I- was a rookie) was that I established myself as a writer (with 8 book sales) before hiring my first agent. That’s one possible solution (among many) for a -writer- to solve the, “How do I get an agent?” problem, or “HOw do I get an ESTABLISHED agent?” problem.
“How do I become an established agent?” is an agent’s problem and, in particular, “How do I become an established agent without reading slush?” is an agent’s problem.
My problem as a writer is, “Why should I pay a higher commission just because an agent is having trouble making ends meet and/or spending too much unprofitable time reading slush?” I don’t see how my subsidizing an agent’s slushreading time with a commisison hike to 20% of my earnings would make any more sense at all than my subsdizing the agent’s blogging time that way, either.
How to find good clients is the agent’s problem, not the writer’s. How to use slushreading time judidiously so as to have more hits than misses is also the agent’s problem, not the writer’s.
But I do recall something that a Senior Editor at Harlequin/Silhouette (who has since risen to become Ed-In-Chief of the whole combined company) said to me when I was starting out. She knew that many aspiring writers were frustrated because ALL Har/Sil would agree to read for a query was a 2-page synopsis. But she said, “Honestly, it’s all we need to see. We can tell in two pages if someone can write, and if they understand what sort of book we’re looking for.” I don’t know what it’s like at Har/Sil now, but back then, when their editors were well-trained, they asked to see very few full MSs out of their slush query pile; and they bought a significant percentage of the MSs they asked to see (including mine). They knew what they were looking for. So, at a guess, having a good eye and clarity of judgment when you read a two-page query probably has a lot to do with effective time-management viz slush. (And althugh I don’t, in principle have a problem with agents who blog, I certainly do see one way to cut down on both slush and time wastage: stop soliciting slush in blogs, and stop bloggins lengthy critiques of queries and MSs that you’re declining to represent. Marketing good MSs if a profitable pursuit for an agent; trying to teach the online masses to write?–not so much, I’m thinking.)
Okay, begs the question might have been a little too strong. I guess my extremely ADD mind got to wondering how that would work
.
But like I said, I don’t really see myself using an agent. Unless there is a huge change in the industry and/or a Superagent or something thinks I’m the greatest thing since powdered toast and wants to make me lots of money, I’ll probably go the IP lawyer route.
“A number of them couldn’t even get a good agent with a book offer. That’s how stupid the agent world is getting.”
Good example of why I think Bad Business Decisions are the cause of various agents struggling now. I’ve recently heard from two different writers with longterm careers, many books published, and (key point here) =current relationships= with major houses where they’re still being published steadily and have both recently signed new contracts. Both of them have told me that they can’t even get RESPONSES to their queries to agents. One of them is still trying, but the other decided to go ahead without an agent–made a new sale UNagented, and is favorably impressed not only with how hard it WASN’T to sell a book UNagented, but also with how much more money a deal suddenly pays when one is NOT paying 15% to an agent just to make a phone to the editor to say, “Time for a new contract.” Which easy 15%, let’s keep in mind, the agents these writers are querying evidently DON’T WANT, since they AREN’T EVEN RESPONDING to their queries–while we’re seeing all this hand-wringing about how hard it is to make a living as an agent these days.
And that’s a too, too common story in the past couple of years.
Laura, a very common story. I have heard it a number of times as well. Stunning, just stunning but alas so true.
When a writer recently called me and said even though the writer had an offer from major New York house for not small money, writer couldn’t get an agent to return calls. What should the writer do? I asked which agent and then spoke with the writer harshly about setting sights far, far too low. (An agent blogger.) Writer said screw it and went with an attorney and it ended up a five book deal and writer is happy, very happy.
Third writer I know with offers in the last three months that have talked to me, couldn’t get agents to respond even with offers on the table, and went with IP lawyers.
This is not a small trend.
Well, after reading Dean
“I know of two agents who only have 15 clients and do just fine, deciding as a business decision to push the 15 clients they do have and give them attention and make them money. Very smart agents who are having no issue making ends meet, and wouldn’t look at a slush pile on threat of death.”
I thought about asking if I could have their names in about six months. (would have been just kidding)
But after reading the rest of I don’t think I will ask but I will be needing a refresher course on query letters and/or synopses about that time.
Steve that powdered toast line is good, it brings an interesting mental image but at the same time it sounds worse than powdered milk. However, I think there’s a story or three in there some where.
Hmm, maybe a light hearted flash??? Just wrote a light hearted shortee-poker and urban fantasy mix- but I can always do another light hearted one; Science Fiction this time.
Actually, something I’d be really curious to see happen is a group of writers forming a self-represenation co-op. Pool their efforts to perform the functions of a (good) agency, for their own mutual benefit: Gather information, make contacts, do market and fiscal research, make submissions under the aegis of the co-op, negotiate a fee with a literary lawyer who’ll negotiate contracts for the co-op’s members, etc.
Like an investment club, but for the purpose of selling MSs.
@Laura. Actually, I’m with Jeremy, about Tellin’ it to the Hand. If I get an offer on the manuscript that’s slushing around New York right now, I’m not at all sure I’m going to go to an agent, particularly if I can find a good literary attorney.
To clarify, I just posted that 66.25% because one of the common arguments FOR agents is that the author gets more money with them than without them. The basic point there is that, for the author to profit as much as the agent from that sort of fee increase, the agent needs to roughly double sales. Anything less that 66.25%, the author profits less than the agent, and anything less than about a 4.3% increase in net income hurts the author. It’s good to grind out some of those numbers before signing on to a proposal like this.
Agents, ultimately, are in the same boat as publishers, in that authors are discovering that they can get agent’s “services” for much less from nontraditional sources. As with authors, the agents who survive will be the ones who either cut their rates or broaden their service offerings.
That’s just incredible, Dean and Laura. It reminds me of a tongue-in-cheek comment I made here a few months ago about the agent wanting the writer to hand deliver — at the agent’s convenience — the contract to their office, place it on his desk, put a telephone in his hand, call the editor, and then give his mouth the motor function to say, “We’ll take it!”
And it just reeks of my past business experience with people who complain that there aren’t enough customers in the market, ask us for leads, and then fail to follow up on any of the leads we send them, because there are no phone numbers on the list.
My favorite was a list I sent out containing the name and company of a contact with whom our salesperson was CURRENTLY DEALING on another project, who neglected to call him because his phone number was not there.
The truth is, those people were simply not reading the lists, and just looking for something to bitch about.
I suspect that this agent situation is more of the same.
One of my favorite expressions, that I say to myself all the time, is: “If you spent half as much time DOING the work as you have complaining about it, you’d be done by now.”
Applied to this context, I’d modify it: “If you spent half as much time sending out manuscripts as you do complaining about the ones you get, you’d be a billionaire.”
I’ve come to realize that unless I eventually find an excellent agent, it just won’t work for me. I’m just too damned surly and cynical, and I make no apology for that.
This whole agent situation with established authors really blows my mind, especially the one where the author got a five book deal using an IP lawyer. The agents wouldn’t respond to them when they already had a deal?!! What?
How far are their collective heads up their…okay, not going there. But, seriously, that makes no sense whatsoever. That’s like finding a hundred dollars on the ground and going, “Screw that, I don’t want that money.” Who does that?
The sad thing is that there are so many writers out there that think there must be something wrong with them and/or there work and NOT that the agent is completely and utterly clueless.
Wow. Can I tell you how glad am that there are long term pros out there like Dean and Kris and Laura.
Everyone join with now on the count of three, “Tell it to the hand Agent Lady!”
Steve, to be fair, part of the fault is the writers. All of them who couldn’t get agents to respond were going to low-level, high visibility agents. They weren’t going to the top agents who understand how this works. I’m sure those agents would have snapped them up, but slush readers tend to take their own “I have to love this before I work for you” thinking clear past offer and contract stage. Older agents know it’s a business and to make money they have to have selling clients. Younger agents are more into the “art” and rewriting and loving something.
When does any of that fit with a multi billion dollar international corporate business? No wonder they are going out of business quickly, for more than just this reason.
Writers picked the wrong agents. They went low instead of high. Of course, as Laura and I have pointed out, just because you have a top agent doesn’t mean problems won’t happen. They will. Just not the problems these novelists with first sales ran into right out of the gate.
“Of course, as Laura and I have pointed out, just because you have a top agent doesn’t mean problems won’t happen. ”
Indeed. I and another writer I know each left the same top agent (as far as I know, I was the last/final midlist pro this agent ever took on as a client; the only people even considered for the list since then are personally referred writers who are already bestsellers) for essentially the same reason. We were both steadily working pros, but the agent didn’t consider our level of business enough to be worth the time of actually, oh, doing any work at all (such as the arudous and backbreaking task of sending out submissions). Each of us had trouble even making contact with the agent in our final weeks or months as clients. Unfortunately, the agent made this “not worth my time” decision in a time-consuming and passive-aggressive way that cost both of us time and stress. (Like me, the other writer has since adopted self-representation as a business model and is still selling books.)
Oh, and to give another example, my first agent was also top drawer. I had by then made 8 book sales on my own. The agent took me on as a client with evident enthusiasm and longterm commitment, both of which we had specifically discussed when I flew to NYC to interview him to MAKE SURE this was the right representative for me. I was at that time steadily writing series romances for Silhouette, but by now wanted to expand my career beyond there. The agent was so enthused about the new book proposal I had written for this purpose, he advised me NOT to sign a multi-book deal when Silhouette offered it to me, but to instead sign for just one book, because (I even remember the exact oddball figure he cited) he was going to ask $225,000 for my new proposal, and I had to be ready to give the book my full attention when we got a deal, not be all tied up in writing multiple books at Silhouette. So I followed that advice and told Silhouette no on the multi, just a one book deal.
He sent out the proposal to his five editor buddies. They rejected it. He immediately dumped me. I said, “But, wait, there are other houses we could try. And I can write another new proposal.” Not interested, get lost. This guy had just made a $10,000,000 deal for another client, and he didn’t “have time” for anyone who wasn’t making huge money straight out of the gate. Get a big offer very quickly, or else you’re off the list. (I subsequently met other writers who had the same experience with him. Including, alas, a friend to whom -I- recommended this agent during my extremely short shelf-life as a client of his. That writer lasted a little longer with him, but got dumped after the second or third deal didn’t turn out to be lucrative enough to be “worth” the agent’s time.)
This agent is still making huge deals for a small, select client list. And still dumping anyone who doesn’t take off like a rocket.
(Silhouette, meanwhile, went into a buying freeze shortly after my one-book deal, due to be over-inventoried, and I went a full year without another contract from them, and I was in bad shape fiscally. Whereas, had I NOT listened to the advice of that top agent–advice which was essentially “toss aside the bird in hand, put your attention on the bird in the bush”–I would have been all right, under contract for another book or two during that year after being dumped.)
“… such as the arudous and backbreaking task of sending out submissions”
So funny.
QUOTE: because one of the common arguments FOR agents is that the author gets more money with them than without them. END QUOTE
This is true (it is a reason often cited) and it got me thinking. The implication is obvious math; agent = more money & more money = good.
However having just been thru a couple of negotiation processes I’m looking at this flat statement with newer insight.
I assume that in order for the author to show actual profit this is an increase in advance/royalties above 15%.
Even allowing that an agent gets >15% I now (having done some negotiating myself) wonder how much of this increase was truly difficult or even went beyond a single round of offer-counter offer.
i.e. the publisher offers 10k or 20k or whatever K, the agent then returns an offer of an increase of 20%, the publisher replies by agreeing or by splitting the difference and the two parties agree and the author has “more” money.
People, that’s not flippin’ brain surgery. It’s not skilled horse hagglin, it’s simply understanding the basic principle that it makes sense for a house to offer low on their expected range even though they’ve already decided they would pay+% more.
The deal is made in a single email exchange and the agent ends up with 15% into perpetuity simply because he asks for a reasonable bump on the initial offer.
Now how many deals go down like that vs. the house offers 10k advance against a typical genre novel and the agent acctually gets it up to 100k?
Nobody needs an agent to get them a 10-30% raise–you simply ASK for a bit more. I got a 40% bump on my last deal per book simply because the publisher offered me an average genre advance even though they’d budgeted for more. All I did was ask for more (and some sundry details).
I couldn’t have haggled my advance up to 100k in a thousand years–and I would have gladly paid 15% to an agent who could have. But I sure didn’t need an agent to ask for the bump I got.
So the real question is how many deals where an agent got a writer “more” money are true, awesome corporate-raider style negotiations and how many are simply deals with modest increases within the mean average range that the writer could have gotten on their own–simply by asking.
+20% -15% =5% is okay, sure and technically it is “better” BUT the whole 20% is much, much better.
Of course there’s no way to break this down in those surveys.
“Nobody needs an agent to get them a 10-30% raise–you simply ASK for a bit more. I got a 40% bump on my last deal per book simply because the publisher offered me an average genre advance even though they’d budgeted for more. All I did was ask for more (and some sundry details).
I couldn’t have haggled my advance up to 100k in a thousand years–and I would have gladly paid 15% to an agent who could have. But I sure didn’t need an agent to ask for the bump I got.”
Nathan, this has been exactly my experience, too.
On my own, I’ve gotten increases of 10%, 20%, 80%, and 100% over the opening offers.
The most an agent has ever pushed up an opening offer on my behalf is 25%–and that was only one agent at one house. On EVERY other agented deal in my career (including others negotiated elsewhere by that same agent), having an agent actually REDUCED my advance income, because the agent pushed up the opening offer by 0%-13%, thus not evening covering the cost of commission (15%).
I agree with you that an agent who can take an offer from $10K to $100K (a 1000% increase) is well worth having and certainly earns the commission. As we know, though, such circumstances are very unsual. Most of the time, agents don’t even push the advance high enough to cover the cost of their commission; and when they do… they still seldom push the advance higher than an UNagented author can push it alone if s/he’s competent at business.
P.S. On those offers where agents only pushed up the opening advance by 0%-13%, thus not even covering the 15% cost of commission, I should also clarify that, no, I also didn’t need an agent just to get those offers in the first place.
Those deals were, for example, an agented MS at a house where I’d already sold 9 books as an UNagented writer, and various deals where I sent out a MS on my own, got an offer, and then brought in my current agent or hired new agent to negotiate.
Getting an offer is not, in my experience, any more magical or mysterious than getting the offer raised is. You need a good book, and you need to SEND IT OUT so that it has an opportunity to be seen by the editor who’ll love it and make an offer.
“Of course there’s no way to break this down in those surveys.”
The other thing that’s hard to verify is whether a writer is speaking accurately when s/he says, as so many do, “The reason I know a writer REALLY NEEDS an agent is because MY agent does SUCH A GREAT JOB for ME.”
In fact, I know some writers whose agents do great jobs for them. (I also know writers who’ve left those agents, because the same agents did NOT do a great job for THEM. It’s a very individual relatinship, which is one of the flaws in the business model–it’s so dependent on specific personalities and circumstances. Then again, the same can just as easily be said about self-representation: not everyone is suited it.)
But… I also know quite a few writers making this claim wherein I happen to know what kind of job their agents are doing, and for various reasons (I may not know the writer well enough to be frank; I may have facts given to me in strict confidence; I may not want to be rude or insulting to the writer; etc.), I can’t actually say some version of, “THAT’S your idea of a great job? Are you f***ing KIDDING me?”
Consequently, because I know of too many such scenarios… I have become skeptical whenever a writer tells me their agent is doing a great job for them, and just expects me to take that at face value. Until I have specific information about that agent’s handling of that writer’s career, the jury is out on whether this is indeed a writer with excellent representation… or a writer who, for whatever reason, doesn’t realize that s/he is NOT, in fact, getting worthwhile representation.
I just crunched some numbers quickly (all please feel free to check my work; it could easily be in error), and I found that for an agent to cover the cost of their commission at 15%, they must increase the advance and royalties by 17.65%.
That figure will just get the author back to where she started. For example, on a $10,000 advance (nice round number), the author gets $10,000. Ad an agent, and the advance paid to the author is decreased by 15%, to $8,500. To get back to $10,000, the agent must increase the advance to at least $11,764.71 (17.64%). And this does not take into account the royalties, and confirms Laura’s experience where agents gave her only 0 to 13% increases, for AT BEST an advance of $11,300, resulting in an author payment of $9,605, a decrease of $395 to the author, while paying the agent $1,695.
Now, the same figures using 20%. Same $10,000, the agent must increase the advance to $12,500 (25%), just for the author to maintain the same income. Using Laura’s most optimistic figure of 13%, that would again be an increase to $11,300, resulting in an author payment of $9,040, resulting in a decrease of $960 to the author, again while paying the agent a whopping $2,260!
And just for kicks, I figured I’d do a 10% commission while I’m at it. The agent, in the past, would have to increase the advance to $11,111.11 (11.1%) to cover their commission in this case. And in this case, with a 13% increase in advance, they would just cover it, gaining an advance of $11,300, resulting in an increase of $188.89.
Most shocking is that using Laura’s results, only in the obsolete 10% model does the author make more money by using an agent. But even more stunning is that for the author to gain an increase of $188.89, she still must pay the agent more than $1,100!
I think Nathan’s experience (and Dean’s and Laura’s) is worthy of strong note. We should be able to achieve these increases ourselves, by simply asking, without paying a dime for the increase, and certainly not while losing money.
That’s quite a realization. As some would say, /facepalm.
Jeremy, that math looks right to me.
The math becomes more complicated (but also more sobering) if we also take into account that, in order to earn the commission WITHOUT taking money out of the author’s pocket, the agent needs to increase the offer not just beyond the publisher’s opening offer, but beyond what the =author= could increase the deal to, if operating agentless.
Nathan recently got an offer up 40% past the opening figure. I’ve gotten offers up by 10%, 20%, 80%, and 100%. Using that real-world experience as a guideline, let’s look at a convervative example: Let’s say that, negotiating on his/her own, the author can get the offer on the table increased by 25%.
In your example then, the publisher offers $10,000; the unagented author negotiates that up to $12,500 and no higher. In order not to COST that author money, the agent would thus need to be able to negotiate that advance up to $14,700–AND the author would have to NOT be able to negotiate it that high if unagented.
So the formula for making an agent sale WITHOUT losing money on it is something like:
Offer + Y + 17.64% = Viable Advance
(Y = % by which author can himself negotiate increase in publisher’s opening offer)
Obviously, that’s a tricky formula. how high can any given author get the advance increased on any given deal? Who knows? It depends–every time. And IS there a scenario in which an agent can negotiate an offer up PAST the point where an author with competent business skills can negotiate it? Again, it depends.
Something else worth mentioning about negotiating for money with a publisher: In my experience, it’s NOTHING TO BE AFRAID OF.
I have never experienced it being adversarial or edgy. Since I am comfortable discussing money and payment, I’ve also never experienced it being awkward or uncomfortable, though YMMV. The advice I can give about discussing money in negotiations is: Be courteous, professional, and businesslike.
What I’ve said on occasions when the opening offer is way too low is some version of, “I can’t afford to work for that. I really want to work with you, but that offer will need to come up for me to be able to do so, because I just can’t afford to work for that sum.” Or: “At that advance, I can’t fiscally justify taking time away from other projects. But I really want to write this book, and I really want to work with you. Can you bring that offer up?”
I always keep in mind, the money is not about ME; the money is about the WORK. The advance being offered is not a reflection of my talent or the quality of my writing, it’s a reflection of profit-and-loss calculations.
One editor said to me once that if both sides want to make the deal, then they find a way to make it work. This has so far consistently proved to be true in my experience.
Moreover, whenever I’ve made a counter-proposal for a higher advance, no one has ever treated me like I’m a money-grubbing bitch or a delusional jerk over-estimating the value of her work. They’re treated me like a professional negotiating a fee for my work–which is exactly appropriate.
So far, on one occasion, an editor said he couldn’t go any higher. But he still really wanted to make a deal with me, so we found a way to make it work. In that instance, I agreed to revise/update an old book for that advance, which he would reissue. Another writer I know converted a too-low offer into a 3-book deal where two of the books were old, already-written backlist books that would be reissued, and the bulk of the 3-book advance for for one new novel. Another writer I know agreed to the lower advance when the publisher couldn’t go in any higher, but to very high royalty rates.
When both sides -want- to do a deal, they can usually find a way to make it work. And, like I said, no one negotiating directly with me has ever made me uncomfortable during fiscal negotiations or made me feel like I SHOULDN’T be asking for more.
Laura, what you say about negotiations is right on the money (pardon the unfortunate pun).
Something to realize, for anyone who’s uncomfortable with the idea of negotiating, is that once you’re at the table, both parties are interested, so it’s hard to mess it up unless you do some boneheaded thing and offend someone.
It’s important to remember that no one enters into a negotiation for something unwanted. And to make it relevant to publishing, because I’m sure it’s no different than anything else, no editor enters into a negotiation for a book she doesn’t want. People just don’t have the time for that kind of thing. So if they’ve made you an offer, they WANT THE STORY.
Of course, you can still botch it by being an unprofessional, offensive clod who asks for a thousand-percent increase over the offer, or some other ridiculous thing. That kind of thing will always make the other party balk, unless they REALLY want what you have, in which case they’d laugh your counteroffer off and ask you to try again. But if you ask for 25% or 50% more than their asking price, they’ll either say yes or tell you they can’t go that high. But you still get another shot if they don’t accept the counter. A negotiation is simply a polite conversation wherein all the parties try to gain their fair share of the pie in a manner on which all can agree. We all do it every day with our family and friends, so it’s not as unusual as we might think. And also, every negotiation is different, even with the same person, though each party comes back to a subsequent negotiation with prior knowledge of the other parties. No big deal.
Now granted, I’ve never negotiated with a highfalutin New York publisher, but I’d bet every dollar I’ve ever made and ever will make that they’re no different than anyone else. And that is to say that if you treat them with respect and integrity, they will do likewise with you, and everybody can walk away from the table happy.
By the way, if anyone’s not aware, Kris has got an excellent six-part portion of her Freelance’s Survival Guide on negotiating that is definitely worth a read if you’re uncomfortable with the idea. Find it at http://www.kriswrites.com.
I figure since we’re on this now, it doesn’t hurt to point people to that, because it’s awesome. (Thanks Kris!)
Jeremy,
Great stuff. And you wouldn’t get any takes on that bet. Dealing with New York means you are negotiating with your editor, who is the one who loves your work in the first place. That makes the negotiations sort of easy, since the editor knows the restrictions they are under but still wants to give you as much as possible.
I’ve negotiated a lot of contracts over the years and never an issue. Never. As you said, I couldn’t imagine there would be one unless you do something really stupid like insult the editor.
And yes, Kris did a great series of Freelancers Guide chapters on negotiating in all ways. A must read.
That’s really good to hear, about your negotiations for higher advances, Laura. Thanks for sharing that.
Dean, great “chapter”
A friend recently steered me to your brilliance, she knowing that I march to the one-armed drummer.
After completing three novels, learning the “proper” way to craft the query and synopses, rejection ensued, which made me look to “helpful” blogs and nationally known writing groups for help. Thereafter I lost the love for my craft. Too many rules offered as the commandments of the realm. Quick crash and burn – ideas of publication made me want to barf.
I forced myself back into the writing seat by putting any notions of publication far away from the stove. Slowly, love returned, but now it feels even stronger, thanks to reading your “Sacred Cows.”
Kath,
Thank you! I am very glad that my chapters here can help put a little joy back into writing. That means a lot to me, because I have felt the same way as you described and now the freedom is just crazy making because I have so many things I want to write. Never enough time. (grin) Thank you!
I had three responses. I couldn’t choose between them, so you get all of them. Lucky you!
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I can’t believe you made it all the way through this chapter without quoting Kipling:
“There are nine and sixty ways of constructing tribal lays,
“And-every-single-one-of-them-is-right!”
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Writers should be glad there are no rules. If there were rules, we programmers would automate them, and software would take over the writing side of the business as well as the distribution side.
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In “Agile Software Development”, Alistair Cockburn quotes some other researcher (whose name I sadly forget) on the Three Levels of Listening. I adapt those ideas into a lesson on learning and process; and I add a Level 0 that the author neglected. And I can only remember the rules through a travel metaphore. In fact, every time I teach this lesson, I’m thinking of Bilbo and the Dwarves lost in Mirkwood. So here are my Four Levels of Learning (after Cockburn, after whomever).
Level 0: Lost
You’re lost in the woods. You don’t know where you’re going. If you see mushrooms, you eat them, because you’re hungry. If you see a stream, you drink, because you’re thirsty. Hope they’re not poisonous! Maybe some day you’ll find your way out. And yes, there are spiders in those woods…
Level 1: Following
Somebody puts you on The One True Trail. “Follow this trail, and you’ll get through. You can eat these mushrooms and drink from these streams, but don’t touch anything else.”
Following is an improvement on Lost; but it’s very limited as well. That One True Trail is going to one destination. If that’s not your destination, too bad. Also, we’re never sure how long the trip should take; and soon we’ll fear it’s taking too long. And there’s then the temptation to set off from The One True Trail and make your own way. When you do that, chances are you’re back to Lost.
Level 2: Navigating
Someone hands you a map. It shows you paths you can follow, decisions you can make, and destinations you can choose. You have a lot more choices, but therefore a lot more responsibility for those choices. No one can choose for you.
Level 3: Trailblazing
You make maps. You teach and guide others and find areas never explored before.
At this Level, almost all processes can be summed up as: “Look at your goals. Look at your current situation. Look at your current resources. Look at your constraints. Based on your experience and studies, devise a strategy to meet your goals within your constraints, using only your available resources. When you find something outside your experience, analyze it and test new ideas. And keep learning.”
The problem here is three-fold. First, Trailblazing looks an awful lot like Lost. (I tell my students: Trailblazing is Lost with 20 years experience surviving the woods.)
Second, some people are temperamentally suited for only a given Level. Some people like to master a set of rules and become the best possible at applying them. Others chafe at rules and always want to push boundaries. There’s a tendency for occupants of each Level to see their Level as “proper”, maybe even “superior”. I think that each Level has its own unique strengths. (The market, on the other hand, generally favors Level 2, maybe 2.5. True pioneers are often ahead of the market; but a skilled craftsman with a well-stocked toolkit and knownledge of how to choose and apply tools is always in demand.)
And third is Cockburn’s main point in explaining these Levels: discussions across Levels can lead to confusion. A Level 1 student may tell a Level 0 there is One True Trail; and that may be the necessary knowledge the 0 needs to step up to Level 1. But a Level 2 can confuse things by saying, “Well, except that’s not true in this case. Or this case. Or…” The Level 0 isn’t ready for all those choices yet. And then along comes a Level 3 who says, “No, none of those rules are correct, there are no rules.” And to the Level 0, that sounds like chaos.
A lot of your Myths, I think, are Level 1 (Following) rules. They are one path that has proven in certain cases to lead to a certain desired result; but there’s no guarantee how long that will take, nor even if it’s a result you actually want to reach. Or even CAN reach: maybe that particular path has since been overgrown, and maybe there are spiders on it now.
And in debunking these Myths, you’re trying to teach Level 2 (Navigating) knowledge: “Here are the limits of those rules. Here are some other alternatives. Here are some ways to choose between them.” But with this particular Myth, you’re also reemphasizing the Level 3 (Trailblazing) knowledge: “There are no rules. Do what works for you.”
And I can attest: just as Cockburn predicts, that leads to confusion for those of us down here at Level 0.5. In the half week since I’ve found your blog, I have decided…
* I need to send all my stories out to editors as fast as possible.
* I need to give up on editors and publishers, and just self-publish.
* I need to package up my stories as a book proposal and start circulating that.
* I need to give up on selling anything until I get at least a half million more words out.
* I need to join more workshops.
* I need to ignore the workshops.
* I need to stop commenting on your blog, because it’s taking time away from my writing.
* I need to stop reading your blog, because it’s taking time away from my writing.
* I need to keep reading your blog, because I’m learning so much.
And then I cycle back through these in a different order.
And it’s not that you’re arguing I should do any of the above. I’m self-aware enough to realize that you’re filling my toolbox with Level 2 knowledge and strategies. I just lack the context as of yet to apply those correctly in my own circumstances. You’re telling me that the ONLY real Level 1 rules are Heinlein’s Rules. Everything after that is Level 2 or Level 3. Everything after that is “it depends”.
The only universal rule is the meta-rule: keep learning.
Well said, Martin, very, very well said. Thanks!!
And yes, the only universal rule is keep learning. And then do it your way.
Thanks, Dean