Yenta-ish sounding lady on the phone: “You’re a literary agency, right?

Me: Yes.

YSLOP: Ok, do you represent rap?

Me: Rap?

YSLOP: I mean a novel written entirely in rap. Verse.

Me: Oh. No, that doesn’t really sound right for us.

YSLOP: What should I do?

Me: Well, it’d be a tough sell to any publisher, and you may not be able to get an agent for it, so you may want to try to sell it yourself or publish it yourself.

YSLOP: Yes! Thank you very much for your advice.
 

For more in this vein see yesterday’s diary at Miss Snark. (Via The Old Hag.)

It sounds like you have a decision to make. You can try to combine some or all of the stories and novellas into a novel, which it is true would probably be easier for an agent to sell, or you can take what you have (a lot, by the way, which is always better than not enough, since it’s far easier to cut than add material), put it in the order you think makes the best sense, and present it as it is, a collection.

Novels are easier to sell to publishers than story collections, this is true. It’s a bit mystifying since it does seem like almost everyone likes short stories and there always seems to be a collection out that everyone is talking about. The reality is that collections bring smaller advances. Publishers will always tell you that they’re just not able to sell collections in the numbers that they want, especially collections by previously unpublished (in the book sense) authors. Also, novels get far more review attention than collections do, which contributes to the problem of sales.

Agents do represent collections, but usually with some understandable trepidation. I personally love short story collections, and I don’t want to discourage you from taking that route because some of the best literature — and entertainment — I’ve ever read were story collections. But the truth is that in publishing it is the novel gets the nod over a collection most of the time.

 
How does an agent go about submitting their client’s manuscript to particular editors? What factors are involved in the choice of editor? I.e., prior contact, reputation, etc. It’s something that seems incredibly important but the actual mechanics aren’t often discussed.

Everyone has his or her own M.O. when it comes to submitting projects (see the previously mentioned “scattershot” technique), so I can’t speak definitively for all agents. But the following probably holds true for most.

While it would be ideal to maintain an up-to-the-minute database of every editor in publishing, there is so much turnover nowadays that even an up-to-the-month list is difficult to maintain, and many agencies just don’t have the clerical staff it would require to stay on top of every editor all the time. However, most agents do have some sort of database with editors and houses that might be sifted through in any number of ways (alphabetically, by genre, by previous submissions, etc.), and within that database may exist a shortlist of editors to whom they submit with some regularity and which covers a wide spectrum of subjects and genres. Friendships and collegiality develop between agents and editors as they do in any industry — through parties, events, trade shows, professional organizations, lunches, etc. — so an agent will understandably submit first to those whom he or she knows. And, ideally, to those who have some seniority so the editor will at least be heard if not, in the end, listened to (not to be overly cynical). Beyond that initial list, names can be culled from anywhere — articles, newsletters, mailers, referrals.

I can say that if an editor turns out to be difficult to reach, doesn’t return phone calls or doesn’t respond to projects in a timely manner then he or she won’t, or at least shouldn’t, be receiving any more submissions from that agent.

 
A hypothetical/true story: a writer friend landed a publisher while unagented and has published several books with said publisher. However, in order to advance his career and write a non-series novel, he very much needs an agent. Several weeks ago he made contact with two agents, one requesting the current manuscript, the other 50 pages of it. He told each one that the other was looking at the work as well, and now both refuse to evaluate the mss unless the other rejects it. What’s the proper protocol to resolve this situation?

Again, every agent works differently. Each is probably trying to protect herself from wasting her time (reading the manuscript only to find out the author has decided to go with the other agent). And it should be determined whether each was under the initial impression that the material she had was on an exclusive basis.

There are so many agents and the competition is so fierce for projects that I really think the one submission at a time notion is unrealistic and works against the author, and that such etiquette is no longer necessary when an author approaches agents. However, if an agent approaches the author and asks for an exclusive, that can make perfect sense. How to distribute his material will always be up to the author in the end, but it is best if the agents know how the author is submitting the material from the start to avoid any problems down the road.

 
The Secret Agent is an agent with a small, but well-regarded, literary agency in Manhattan, and is happy to answer your questions. Send them to thesecretagent [at] maudnewton.com.

Some authors do need more ::ahem:: attention than others. Often I find the amount of attention many authors require to be inversely proportional to their value to the agency, but don’t tell them I said so. And if they need a mommy/daddy/Ultimate Lover, I refer them to Belle de Jour.

 
I feel a little embarrassed that I don’t know the answer to this, but if an author’s book doesn’t make back its advance, does the author actually owe the publisher money? Also, could you illuminate what would be considered a forget-it vs. decent vs. amazing advance for a first-time author who has stories, say, in a handful of literary magazines but not anything, for example, in The New Yorker?

No, thankfully the author is not required to pay the publisher back the remainder of an unearned advance. What a nightmare that would be. Can you imagine being offered $100,000 for your book and asking the publisher to lower the offer because you know damn well it won’t promote the book enough to help earn all the money back? Or a publisher deciding it needs that last $100,000 it paid you so it takes your book out of print even though it’s selling a solid 2,000 copies every six months (no decent agent would ever allow this to be contractually possible, by the way)?

Seeing as how The New Yorker generally sticks to Alice Munro and Joyce Carol Oates stories (enough already Remnick. Give somebody new a chance), I wouldn’t use it as a measuring stick. But if you’re broke, then I’d call getting $15,000 for writing a book pretty fantastic. It’s all relative.

 
It seems that all my friends who write have been stymied of late. One sank all the proceeds of his advance into promotion, then found he would not even get a PW review. Another has been told that the publisher wants yet another book “like” his first three. I observe my own so-called “career” as moving in this direction: I managed to get a good agent and a top literary publisher. I didn’t manage to be “lead” book. There’s no “push,” no way for the books to become visible, even when they get good reviews here and there in this great big country. Seven books on, I’m wondering what to do. What practical advice can you give a mid-list writer who has never gotten any push? Is there anything he can do? It seems to me that a writer can drive himself crazy attempting to make up for what a publisher doesn’t do–and never make a dent.

Publishers take what works for them and try to replicate it ad infinitum, so it’s not surprising to hear your publisher wants more of the same from you. Actually, it would seem to say that you are indeed a successful author if you’ve published seven books. But with over 150,000 books published last year in the US, it is a challenge, to say the least, to get any one book much attention, and clearly only a very few can be “lead” books. So what then? Be creative. That’s both the lamest and best advice I can give. Start a Web site, have a contest, streak at Wimbledon, buy a billboard, self-publish. There’s no easy answer. The one piece of practical advice I always give an author is to hire an outside publicist if he or she can afford it, because the publisher will only be able to afford to do so much in most cases.

 
How well does a first novel have to sell in order to guarantee publication of a second novel?

There’s really no simple answer for this question. Ideally an author will have a publisher that believes in her and will be willing to stick with her even if one of her books doesn’t meet expectations financially or critically (one usually taking precedence over the other of course). If a novel sells 20,000 copies and earns back its entire advance, then the author can reasonably expect a deal for at least one more novel (and a better advance). But if a publisher pays a million dollars for a novel and it sells 20,000 copies, then it’s less likely that the publisher will want to continue with the author. It’s also not likely the publisher would be able to stay in business for very long making those types of decisions, but you get my point.

 
What percentage of manuscripts simply don’t sell after an agent takes them on? How many rejections does it take before you fold? Does the quality of the rejection have anything to do with it? And finally, do you believe the platitude that all good writers will eventually be published?

It depends on how your agent works. Does he take on dozens of projects, big and small, do little or no editorial work and pepper publishers in a “throw it against the wall and see what sticks” style? If this is his method, then his sell through rate in all likelihood will be fairly low. Or is the agent more selective, choosing projects she feels a connection to and putting time into development before submission? In that case, the agent’s sell-through rate would probably be much higher than with the scattershot technique. As for how many rejections it takes before giving up: if all of the rejections are saying the same thing editorially, then the project is probably flawed and should either be scrapped or re-worked. But if the rejection is based more on subjective taste, and an agent really believes in it, she could go on submitting it indefinitely.

Lastly, no, I don’t believe that all good writers will be published, because not all of them are writing for publication, if they’re even writing at all.

 
 
Thanks for all the questions — keep ‘em coming. And to Rtd. Lt. Col. Henry Khomu of Nigeria, who has been innundating my inbox: I’m not giving you my banking information. Try Andrew Wylie.

The Secret Agent is an agent with a literary agency in Manhattan.

 
There are generally three types of deals that publishers make for a book:

• North American rights, which include the territories held by the USA, Canada and the Philippines

• World English rights, which include North American rights as well as UK rights (Britain and its territories)

• World rights, which include all English language and translation rights

A book theoretically could be published in every known language. Publishers may have their own foreign divisions established (e.g., Penguin UK or Harlequin France), may sell the rights to a book directly to separate foreign publishers, or may use subagents who sell the rights to the book for the publisher in its territories and take a commission (usually 10%). If the author has retained UK and/or translation rights, then the author has the option of selling directly to foreign publishers or using subagents as well (this usually depends on which method the author’s agent uses).

Unfortunately, even if a book is a smash hit in some foreign countries, if it flops in the US the publisher is less likely to continue to publish the author. Few if any American publishers will buy a book with the primary intent to publish it anywhere in the world other than the US, since the US is by far the world’s biggest market. Of course, if the publisher only pays $15,000 for a book and it doesn’t do well in the US but brings in $100,000 in foreign licenses, then that would make the decision a bit more complicated.

 
 
Since no question is off-limits, I’m gonna go for broke and ask a question that has been killing me for several years. A close friend of mine struggled to find an agent for his first book, but at the last minute, a well-known (and I think, respected) book packager/agent agreed to take him on. From the moment my friend signed a contract, his agent became a nightmare, describing the book as unsellable, arguing against asking for a larger advance, then holding on to royalty checks for months at a time. When the author tried to terminate the relationship, the agent insisted the relationship couldn’t be terminated and demanded 15% of the proceeds from deals the author was closing entirely on his own. Only after thousands of dollars in lawyers’ fees was my friend able to separate himself from this leech. All along, I was astonished that the agent retained his good reputation, despite being a raging asshole.

Here is my actual question: Was this an exceptionally bad experience or can my friend expect similar shaftings from every agent he encounters? He is more than a little gun-shy at present and I have no way to reassure him. And inside the industry, what is the feeling about (accredited, respected) agents who mistreat clients? Is the assumption that writers are a whiny lot and blow everything out of proportion or is it understood that there are a few very, very bad apples out there?

 
Yikes.

First of all I’m not quite sure why an agent would describe a book they want to represent as “unsellable.” But that aside, it sounds like this agent wasn’t doing his or her job. The agent works for the client, so if the client absolutely wants the agent to ask for more money, then the agent is obligated to do so, even if it’s against his or her best advice (I’m also not quite sure why an agent would argue against asking for more money, unless the author was not willing to take a deal at all without more money being offered).

The issues of the agent unreasonably holding on to monies owed, claiming rights to subsequent books, and the author’s ability to terminate the relationship should all ideally have been outlined in the author’s written agreement with the agent. If the author never signed a written agreement, then it’s tough to say what the understanding between the two parties originally was. Was the agreement that the agent represented all of the author’s works and not just one particular book? If so, then the agent may have had every legal right to retain his or her 15% commission regardless of how much work he or she did to sell the project (though whether he or she should have, ethically, is questionable). The way you’ve described the situation, it sounds like the agent was not acting in good faith and the author had good reason to sue.

Should the author expect such treatment from every agent? Absolutely not. The vast majority of agents recognize that they work for their clients and will not take actions to alienate them. Without clients, agents don’t make much money, and with a reputation for being abusive, an agent won’t get many clients.

In the future, I would recommend that the author sign a written agreement with any agent that states exactly what the agent is representing (and there are strong arguments to be made for having an agent represent all of the author’s work rather than just individual projects), how to legally terminate the relationship (can be as simple as an email), and how long the agent may hold monies before paying them to the client (10 business days is reasonable in my opinion). Have a lawyer look it over, too, if possible. This is a very unfortunate experience, but not one the author should expect to repeat if he does some research and takes steps to protect himself from the outset of the agent-author relationship.

 
 
The Secret Agent is an agent with a small, but well-regarded, literary agency in Manhattan. Send your questions about representation and publishing to the agent at thesecretagent [at] maudnewton.com. No question is off-limits.

As I explained yesterday, the Secret Agent is an agent with a small, but well-regarded, literary agency in Manhattan. In this short interview, the Secret Agent will answer my own questions, but after this week all responses will be to selections from your inquiries about New York City publishing.

No question is off-limits (particularly if the Secret Agent is drunk).

 
I’m sure bad cover letters and manuscripts come in all forms, but can you describe one or two particularly terrible ones?

I’m always fascinated by people who feel they can antagonize me into representing them. Asking me if I have the guts to take on their legal suspense novel, describing me as a “miserable person” who needs a 15-page Mt. Rushmore conspiracy theory (created by a glacier 1,000 years ago, fifth face sandblasted off by the government) coffee table book to make my career (not a joke), threatening hellfire and/or brimstone should I not participate in getting the screed to the masses. These make me long for the simplicity of a wretchedly misspelled, grammatically abominable, yet touchingly polite Crayola-written query.

 
What are some of the most common problems with the manuscripts you receive?

In fiction, the majority of the manuscripts we receive — or at least half, I would say — are first novels. First novels often have the same problems: stiff dialogue, too much desribing the action when it should be shown, weak openings or endings. There are others, but I’d say these are the three big ones. In nonfiction, it’s all about the audience and the competition. Are there really enough people out there willing to spend $24.95 on your book? Are there already 100 other books out there trying to reach them? One thing I will say is that if you can put together a really good marketing plan, then you’re halfway there.

 
You’ve been at this for a while now. How have your expectations changed in the years since you started?

When I first started working at an agency, editors had a lot more say over what they could buy. Now, even the most senior editors can be overruled by marketing, even if they desperately want something and only have to pay $20,000. So, unfortunately, I’m almost never 100% sure anymore that something will sell, and that’s the biggest change.

 
Katharine Viner, a judge for Britain’s Orange prize, complained in June about reading, for the contest:

a run of books about nothing. These were usually by authors from the US, who have attended prestigious creative writing courses. . . . They are books with 500 pages discussing a subtle but allegedly profound shift within a relationship. They are books where intricate descriptions of a man taking a glass out of the dishwasher, taking a tea-towel off a rail, opening out the tea-towel, then delicately drying the glass with the tea-towel, before pouring a drink into the glass, signify that he has just been through a divorce.

What’s your reaction to her complaint?

Heh. You sure you didn’t say that, Maud? [Ed. note: Nah, Viner said it, but I'll admit I like the sound of it. I'm always trotting out the tea-towel thing at the end of the night, in bars, when everyone wants to go home. No doubt that's why it sounds familiar to you.] I agree, but fiction is so subjective. I grow impatient easily with fiction, and I have never liked the type of person who talks OR writes for the sake of hearing or seeing their own voice. Self-indulgence is tedious to me. But I also do want subtlety. So for me, if you can illustrate a profound shift with a paragraph rather than a chapter, then please do. Any good writer should be able to do this, in my opinion.

 
How many pages does an author have to grab your attention?

I would say it depends on the concept. If it’s another mystery or thriller, probably less than 10 pages. If it’s a really unique conceit, though, I want to give it a chance to come together. To be honest, you better be strong from page one, and if you’re going to get weaker, do it in the middle, once I’m hooked. Then I’m more likely to plow through it than if the manuscript’s already not working after page three.

 
Is it true that it’s much harder to sell novels than it used to be?

Absolutely. The public reads less fiction than ever, yet there are more people trying to write it than ever, and the big publishers tend to concentrate the majority of their money on their already established writers. It’s simple and sad.

 
Small advance and placement on a major publisher’s midlist or equal advance but top of the list at a smaller house: which is better?

This also depends. Who will be able to distribute the book better? Who will put more time and/or money into promoting it? Who gets better review attention? How big would the first printing be at each? How do you get on with your editor? Really it comes down to determining the publisher’s commitment to you, and it can go either way at a big or a small house.

 
How much do a writer’s age and headshot matter to a publisher?

I don’t think the headshot usually matters all that much. I mean, if an author is exceptionally attractive, then it’s a positive, but if they’re fugly, I don’t think it’s necessarily a negative. It does depend on what kind of book we’re talking about. Medieval fantasy? Go on and get fugly then. Book on dressing for success? You should probably fit the bill.

And please stay tuned for the introduction of MaudNewton.com’s anonymous secret agent later this week.

The Secret Agent is an agent with a small, but well-regarded, literary agency in Manhattan. Initially, the Secret Agent will answer my own (boring) questions, but after this week all responses will be to selections from your inquiries about New York City publishing.

No question is off-limits (particularly if the Secret Agent is drunk).