Posts Tagged ‘submissions’

When I asked on Twitter what questions people would like an article about agents to address, there were a bunch that didn’t fit into the post I was writing, which you can find at BTS Book Reviews blog. Thus, as promised, I’m answering them over here on my own blog. If you have a question that isn’t answered in the “All About Agents” article or this Q&A (that is not “would you read my book”), feel free to ask it here and I’ll do my best to answer.

Q. Assuming the writing is good, what is the difference between a partial that grabs you and one that doesn’t? (Since this is similar to the question “How can an agent tell if said ms has potential?” I’m combining the answers here.)

A. Here’s the thing—we’re not just looking for something with potential. Many writers have potential. We’re looking for someone who’s achieved their potential. We want someone who blows us away and keeps reading late into the night or makes us miss subway stops because we’re so absorbed. We want a manuscript that we can’t help but pitch to friends and family as well as editors. In short, we want something that excites us and that we can truly champion. You don’t want an agent who’s ambivalent to your work or on the fence about it. You want someone who’s thrilled to be working with you and who will keep on even when those inevitable rejections come in. (In my 22 years in the business, I’ve never had a work that everyone wanted. Never.)

The difference between what grabs me and what doesn’t is not easy to articulate. The novels I fall in love with spark something in me. They make a connection; they’re original; they have a wonderful, unique voice. Voice, in fact, is often what makes something stand head and shoulders above the rest. That said, just because I don’t connect with a work strongly enough to take it on doesn’t mean it’s not ready for prime time. It only means that I’m not the right agent for it.

Q. What are you hoping to see when you ask for revisions and offer to take another look?

A. When I ask for revisions, it’s because I see a spark. I’ve made that connection, but the work is still far enough from being ready that I’m not sure if the writer isn’t there yet or if the manuscript just needs another pass. Seeing the work again after revision will answer that for me. It may be that the pacing was too slow previously…or the main character was too distant or tangential to the action…or that the storyline itself wasn’t strong enough regardless of the intriguing set-up… Having the author tackle a revision lets me know that they’re open to critique and putting in the work necessary. The outcome of the revision itself demonstrates how well the author applies notes and whether he or she can bring this particular manuscript up to the level it needs to be to stand out.

Q. I’d love advice about the comparison in the query–ie “Fans of __ will love my book.” “I’m __ meets __.” Should we do this?

A. I don’t think there’s anything wrong with saying that you hope that your work will appeal to the same audience as that of Author X. Unfortunately, I’ve seen people phrase it poorly too many times so that it comes across sounding like, “Move over Stephen King, I’ll take it from here.” It takes the right blend of confidence and humility to say it the way you intend it to come across. Likewise, describing your work as ­this meets that is fine as long as it really highlights your concept for the agent or editor with whom you’re corresponding. I describe my Vamped young adult series as Clueless meets Buffy the Vampire Slayer. I think/hope that the person I’m talking with immediately sees Cher Horowitz with fangs. At the very least, they’ll know that it’s a snarky, fashion-conscious vampire series. I scratch my head, though, when I hear something like this is the Jack Kerouac, Peter Straub and Jude Deveraux all rolled into one. My response to that is…huh?

In other words, it can be a useful tool if done right, but I highly recommend running comparisons by critique partners and others you work with to be sure you’ve struck the right notes.

Q. What working relationship do you look for outside of contract with a client? Level of professionalism?

I’m not sure whether the person asking the question meant “contract” or “contact” here, but I get the spirit of the question. What I look for is someone who’s going to be a publishing partner. In other words, someone who’s willing to invest the same amount of effort in his/her career as I am. If I comment on a manuscript or proposal, I want to know those comments are well-received, even if the author may not agree with everything I have to say. I look for someone who’s personable and plays well with others. Publishing is such a village that it’s important to prop each other up and promote each other rather than tear down. I want someone who’s professional and communicative, who asks the questions that need to be asks and who keeps me on the loop on their end of things.   Also, someone who’s reliable with deadlines and with the quality of his or her work.

Q. If a book by a debut author is the first in a series, do you want that mentioned in query? Or treat it as a standalone?

A. Yes, if a book is part of a series, I want to know it. When advice says don’t pitch more than one project at once, it’s not saying pretend you don’t have a series (although you don’t want to tell us you have a ten-book arc necessarily). It’s saying don’t pitch two or three different series or genres at a time.

Q. Do agents look for something that will sell immediately? Or are they willing to work with an author at revisions to make a future sale?

A. When an agent takes someone on, they’re making an investment in the writer’s career. They don’t necessarily expect that a book will sell instantly. Responses can take months. And most of us do work editorially with authors to make the work as strong as it can possibly be prior to submission, which involves time before the book ever goes out to editors. A work doesn’t have to be perfect before we’ll take it on, but it does have to be really close. Unfortunately, agents don’t have the time to nurture a diamond in the rough. There are a lot of good writers out there. It’s not our job to train them up into great writers. It’s our job to sell their work and help them succeed once they get there.

Q. When querying, what time(s) of the year are the best to do so? Or, when is NOT a good time of the year to query you?

A. Conventional wisdom is that you don’t send submissions out at the end of the year (say between Thanksgiving and New Years) because agents and editors are burnt out and just trying to wrap up all their current projects before the end of the year. There’s some wisdom to this, but I’ve sent submissions out during this time and made some great sales. I think the answer here is “it depends.” The best way to be sure you’re querying at a good time (or at least not at a bad one) is to check the agency or publisher’s guidelines to see if there’s any window when they’re open or closed to submissions and make sure you don’t submit at a time when they’re not reviewing queries.

Q. If a project originally rejected is revised and mostly rewritten, does it count as a new book/okay to query again?

A. If you received an encouraging response and your book has been significantly revised or rewritten, then it’s absolutely okay to query again. If you haven’t, it probably means the book wasn’t right for that particular agent. However, the worst they can say is “no” to a new query, so I don’t think it hurts to try. That’s my two cents, of course, and if an agency’s guidelines say differently, then following them would be the way to go.

Inspired by my status update this morning on Facebook and Twitter, I thought I’d give you another snapshot into the life of agents and editors, this one about why your work is rarely read as quickly as you like it to be.  I’ll start with some specifics from my own personal experience.

I represent forty authors.  Even if each only wrote one book a year, I’d have forty books to read and critique over the course of 52 weeks.  Many of my authors write more than one book a year, sometimes in multiple series and for more than one publisher.  So let’s say I read sixty books a year for my clients.  I also read and offer notes on their proposals and partials, sometimes several times, to get them into shape for submission.  My clients come first.  And no, I can’t always read everything in order, because if books are turned in late but are already in schedule, the editor and I may have to drop everything we’re doing in order to read instantaneously so that the author can receive notes in time to revise for their production deadlines.  So submissions will generally get pushed back to make room for these rush reads.

We fit submissions in when we can, but I have to admit that there’s a certain order here as well.  If an agent (or editor, because their process is much the same, although they generally don’t take unsolicited submissions and are reading manuscripts sent by agents instead) has a file folder of submissions, but something seems particularly hot or from a favorite author over whom other agents are likely to compete, it moves to the top of the list.

All of the above also explains why we don’t offer critiques of everything we read that we don’t represent.  To do that we’d have to take time away from authors to whom we’re committed, and there simply aren’t enough hours in the day.  Already, agents and editors don’t actually have weekends off…or evenings…or holidays.  My Saturdays and Sundays are distinguishable from my work week only by the amount of time I spend reading versus doing office work like looking over contracts, chasing checks, liaising with my subagents over film and translation rights, actually typing up all the notes I’ve racked up on the client manuscripts read in my off hours.

So, if your work isn’t read as quickly as you’d like it to be, it’s not because we’re living it up in our ivory towers, although that would be lovely, it’s because despite the numerous absolutely brilliant people I know, none has yet managed to find a way to create more hours in the day.  If anyone manages it, please have your people call my people!  We’ll do lunch…at which I will worship at your feet.

Submission guidelines have been very much on my mind lately, because I’ve had people tell me in the past how mean it is that we have them. There are too many rules and sites to keep track of; they’re friends with agents and editors on Twitter or Facebook so they ought to be able to just call up or write to the pros personally through those venues and bypass everyone else who’s decided to follow the rules. Guys, it doesn’t work like that. Guidelines exist primarily for two reasons.

1) They weed out those who are not serious about the publishing process. You can’t be bothered to invest the time researching the people you might do business with, but you expect them to invest effort reading and evaluating your work? I’ve equated the query process in the past with the job application process, and it’s very much like that. Your query is your cover letter, your bio and credits your curriculum vitae. Your synopsis and sample material the interview process where we learn whether we will click (in this case with your work). You wouldn’t send a resume to a potential employer’s home or Facebook account…why would you do this with a query? Also, if you can’t follow instructions at this stage, we have to be concerned about what you’ll do when it comes to editorial notes, proof pages, promo, contractual clauses….

2) The material we ask for and the way we ask for it gives us what we need in order to a) track your submission to see that it’s not caught in a spam filter or otherwise ignored, and b) make our decision. I can’t base any decision on a query about querying—the sort of “I have a science fiction novel that I’d like to send your way. May I query you.” note that I get several times a week. That’s just adding an unnecessary step to the process and asks the pro to take time to do your research for you, sending you the guidelines or a link to them. (I did this recently for an aspiring writer who STILL ignored them, which makes me less like to respond to the next person who pre-queries.) Yes, unless agents are closed to submissions, you may query them. Their guidelines are generally readily available on their websites, as are their response times, so if their site says they take a month to two months to respond, don’t requery them after three weeks. It will only give them the sense that you’ll be impatient and difficult to deal with.

Are these rules written in stone?  The answer is that they pretty much are, unless they’re supplanted by alternate instructions.  For instance, if you meet an agent or editor at a conference he or she might give you different or more direct instructions than you’d read on their webpage.  At that time, he or she will probably tell you exactly what material to include in your submission and how it should be sent.  These instructions become your personal submission guidelines.  If you have major publication credits or one of your friends has a professional relationship with the pro you’re approaching and that friend goes to bat for you, you might get to go straight to the head of the line.  Generally, though, when you’re starting out, you don’t want to give the impression that you feel the rules don’t apply to you.  Anyone who approaches publishing with an attitude of entitlement already has a red flag on the play going into the submission process. You may think it will make you stand out from the crowd, but there are good ways and bad ways, and you definitely want to be in the former category.

For more on the query process, see these posts from me on Magical Words:

November 25, 2010 Querying 

January 27, 2011 Querying Blog 2 

February 24, 2011 Querying Blog 3 

BTW, The Knight Agency submission guidelines are available here.

I saw a post recently on Facebook (one of those groups I seem to get automatically subscribed to whether I want to be there or not but decided to check out) where a woman said something like, “My daughter received a rejection saying the agent didn’t connect with the plot.  What the heck does that mean?”  I was so tempted to answer, but that way lies madness.  However, it does make a heck of a blog topic.

Here’s the thing: agents receive hundreds and hundreds of queries a week.  Our job includes reading these to see whether we’d be interested in reading further, to offer a “yes” or a “no” about reviewing additional material.  It’s not to offer critique.  We couldn’t possibly critique, say, 300 queries a week and still agent.  It’s just not possible.  When we do offer a response, it means that we thought your query deserved our going the extra mile.  Does it mean you didn’t deserve the extra mile if we didn’t comment personally?  No, it might mean that we’re busy or that our assistant reviewed it for us and didn’t feel that the query needed our attention, whether because it wasn’t ready yet for prime time, wasn’t in a genre we represent or whathaveyou.  I was surprised at the mother’s what the hell? sort of response to the agent’s comment, since pinpointing the plot as a problem area does say something about the reason that particular query failed for him or her.  It doesn’t mean the next agent won’t connect with the story.  Could it have been more specific—the plot wasn’t terribly original or didn’t have enough suspense or insert reason here?  Sure.  But, critiques are not part of our job description, except for those authors we’re already committed to working with.

When I started out in publishing, I wanted to help everyone.  I was gung ho about giving the most helpful responses I possibly could.  You know what nipped that in the bud?  Most people don’t want to hear it.  The writers who make it want constructive criticism so that they can hone their craft and be all they can be.  However, others just want to hear that they’re the greatest thing since sliced bread.  Anything else, and they’ll argue.  You heard me, argue.  You get more than a few of those and start to decide it’s not worth the grief.  Yes, we get thank-yous as well, and we truly appreciate those.  It’s good to know when we’ve made a difference in someone’s writing or career.  However, once we feel that sense of diminishing returns, well, that gung ho attitude gives way in the face of all the other work we have to get done and which we know is certain to be appreciated.

I’m so tempted to close with “And that’s how Sue sees it” from Glee, but, well, agents already get a bad wrap, and as much as I like Sue Sylvester, I wouldn’t want to be her.  For one thing, I loathe tracksuits.