The Literary Agent: Who is that Person Behind the Curtain?
Ahhh...the ever elusive Literary Agent; the "gatekeeper" of the literary industry, sought after by every writer who dreams of publication, endowed with the power to open the closed doors of many a publishing house, and thus transform a hopeful writer into a published author.
But exactly who is this person anyway? What lies beneath the perceived mystique of the Literary Agent?
Most people know the story of the Wizard of Oz.. If you've ever seen the movie, you're sure to remember the moment when "the great and powerful Oz," all fire and flash, was unmasked by little Toto, who tugged on the curtain and eventually exposed a feeble, uninspiring old man who was anything but powerful, and certainly not all that great.
Do you see where I'm going here?
Okay, at the risk of incurring the wrath of any literary agents who happen to stumble upon my blog, let me clarify. I'm not saying that all agents are feeble old men with little power or influence. To the contrary, some of them carry a great deal of weight within the literary community and are masters at finding and placing good novels. But many of them are not nearly the semi-supernatural entities writers often believe them to be. In fact, some of them probably border on incompetent, and more than a few are thinly-veiled scam artists. In my humble opinion, this disturbing state of affairs is due in large part to the lack of rules or regulations governing who can or can't be a literary agent.
Many moons ago, when I decided to become an attorney, I had to go through 4 years of college, 3 years of law school and pass several rigorous exams in order to obtain a license for any state where I wanted to practice. I had to partake in continuing legal education, and had to adhere to the rigid standards of each state's bar association. All this was for the protection of potential clients. When my brother decided to become a research doctor, he had to go through countless years of post-graduate education and training and had to prove himself to the appropriate boards in order to qualify for various research positions. When my friend decided to become a real estate agent, she had to take a designated number of courses and pass a challenging exam in order to obtain her license. When I decided to become a literary agent several years ago, I had to...well...I had to basically do nothing. There were no tests, or classes, or licensing procedures. There was no minimum required education. Basically all I had to do was proclaim myself a literary agent. Was I qualified? Maybe. I could read; I could write; I carried a bachelor's degree and a post-graduate degree (in law); I knew the basics of grammar, structure, spelling, punctuation, etc. (although my editor may beg to differ); I could distinguish a good story from a bad one; I trained with a practicing agent for a year or so, through which I made some connections with editors in the NY publishing houses...but as far as industry qualifications and required licensing? Well, there are none.
Shocked? I was.
When I finished my manuscript for TURN OF THE SENTRY, and began my quest to find a literary agent, I just assumed that if a literary agent was listed in a manual or included on a website, then they must have passed through some rigorous training to get there. After all, that's true for nearly every other profession, right? A dentist isn't listed on the American Dental Association's site unless he has a degree in dentistry; a plumber isn't included on the list for the Professional Plumber's Association unless he is appropriately licensed; a teacher can't get a job teaching my kids unless she has the relevant education and certifications. So it made sense to assume that, in order to hold oneself out as literary agent, there must be some sort of licensing, training, or other standards which must be met. Ah, but in the immortal words of Felix Unger in one of my favorite "Odd Couple" episodes, "...don't ever assume, because when you assume you make an "ass" out of "u" and "me."
It is a sad and scary reality that there are no education requirements, no licensing requirements, no training requirements, no internship requirements, no clearly defined standards whatsoever, for someone wishing to become a literary agent. Basically, anybody can proclaim to the world that they are a literary agent, and *poof* they are a literary agent. Why is this? How is it that the person so revered bywriters as the gatekeeper of the industry doesn't have to show they arequalified to serve as gatekeeper? True, there are watchdog groupsout there who try to keep an eye on unscrupulous agents and try to warn thegeneral writing population that just because someone claims to be aliterary agent doesn't mean they are any good at it. Some writers heedthose warnings, but so many others, through desperation, often fall prey to deception.
Granted, the industry, by necessity, has it's own inherent checks and balances—for instance, if I say I am a literary agent, but have no inroads to publishing houses or connections with editors, I will be hard-pressed to sell anything. And if I don't sell anything, I won't make money. But that doesn't stop many agent wannabe's from trying and, in fact, many publishing houses are more than willing to give a "new" agent a shot by at least taking a look at a manuscript or two. This may give the anxious writer the illusion that the agent is "well-established" in the industry. Still, many so-called agents will solve the dilemma of money by charging up-front fees (i.e. reading fees, editing fees, etc.), and although the watchdogs out there warn writers off any agent who charges fees for any reason, many writers, out of desperation, ignore those warnings and, unfortunately, pay a great deal of money for false hope. There are civil claims a writer can make against the more unscrupulous agents, if and when they get caught. Still, not every inexperienced or newbie agent is necessarily out to screw the unsuspecting writer. To the contrary, many have very good intentions. But, good intentions aside, their lack of experience and practical training may cause more harm than good and may result in nothing but disillusionment and disappointment for both writer and agent. I can say this because I was admittedly in that boat.
I worked for a small literary agency for a year or so. I came to the agency as a client, but one thing led to another and I became an assistant, helping them wade through the river of query letters, and "learning the business" along the way. At first, I just reviewed query letters, picking the good from the bad. If the concept of the story sounded intriguing, chapters were requested. After a while, I began reviewing those, too. During my "training," I would review the chapter(s) already decided upon by those more knowledgable than I, and my mentor would then instruct me as to what I got right, and what I missed. This is how I learned what to look for and what to avoid. After a while of this, I started to get the hang of it, and began reviewing chapters on my own, deciding if they merited further consideration or not. But this "training" was based on the assumption (there's that word again!) that my mentor actually knew what he was doing to begin with. After all, if you do not know math, and someone repeatedly tells you 2 plus 2 equals 5, you will believe it, but it will still be wrong. I'm not saying my mentor was necessarily wrong in what he taught me to look for, but tastes in literature are very subjective. While there are certain elements of writing that are objective (grammatical rules, sentence structure, point of view, etc.), what a particular person finds intriguing or appealing is often more of a subjective matter of style and taste than an objective application of the rules. Nonetheless, on the basis of this brief and limited "training" I was elevated to the status of Assistant Literary Agent.
After a while, my mentor and I had a bit of a falling out, and I struck out on my own. I told a very limited number of writers (mostly personal acquaintances) that I was going to try my hand at Agenting and that I was willing to accept a limited number of clients on a trial basis. Well, this quiet message to a few select people somehow got whisked away on an audible breeze, because in a matter of months, I had over 100 query letters and at least 50 manuscripts (unsolicited)! These writers didn't know me from Adam. I had not advertised on the internet, nor was I listed on "AgentQuery.com," or any other site. Yet they were trusting me with their manuscripts, and letters and packages magically appeared on my doorstep. I quickly realized that I was in way over my head; after all, my connections in the publishing world were very limited at best, and I felt like I was only giving these anxious writers false hope. I shut down my "practice" as a literary agent and retained only one client (who is also a good friend). And yes, I was successful in placing his book with a publisher—more dumb luck than skill, I'm afraid.
So what is my point in all this? I guess it's really an extrapolation of the old phrase, "Buyer Beware." I was not aware until I became an agent myself that there are no licensing requirements or other qualifications which must be met in order to call yourself a literary agent. I would guess that many writers out there aren't aware of that either. In truth, writers will often cling desperately to the first agent who shows an interest in their manuscript without giving much thought as to whether that agent is qualified to represent their work. Not to say that my agent was not qualified, but his expertise was not in the science fiction, horror or fantasy field. My book went out to a short list of potential editors, after which I was told that it was not salable and I should shelf it and begin working on my next one. It was a frustrating experience for both of us. Turns out that TURN OF THE SENTRY was salable—it just took more time than he was willing to give, and different connections then he had. I learned the hard way that agents have no mystical powers; just because an agent accepts your manuscript doesn't necessarily mean he or she is a good match for your book or that it will even come close to selling. When I was serving my time as a literary agent, I wasalways upfront with potential clients about my lack of experience andmy newness to the profession. Other wannabe agents may not be so honest
For those of you who care, my advice is simple. On that glorious day when an agent actually offers representation, don't break out the champagne right away. Check out the agents credentials. Any agent who is worth your time should not take offense to an inquiry as to his/her experience, previous sales, and track record. Find out how many years they have been an agent, and what, if anything, they did before that. Was it related to literature, or was there no connection whatsoever. If the agent is "fresh out of college," ask about his/her course of study—i.e. did they major in mathematics or English literature? After all, would you send your child to a daycare without first checking the credentials and experience of that daycare? In effect, for many writers, their manuscripts are their babies—why would you want to put your baby in the hands of someone not qualified to handle it? Take a hard look at the agent's past sales, and see what types of books they have been representing—see if they match the style/genre of your manuscript. Check out the publishing houses/editors whom they've been selling to. Are they houses you are interested in? Are they houses that publish the kind of book you have written?
If any literary agent balks at these simple requests, red flags should be flying all over the place.
Finally, be very, very wary of any agent who charges fees for anything,especially any kind of reading or editing fees. Be extremely cautiousof any agent who refers you to an outside source for editing,especially if that outside source is going to charge you money.
I know first hand how tempting it is to disregard these "minor" details and grab hold of an agent with both hands, grateful to have one, regardless of their experience or specialization. This will do you no good, and will probably result in bitter disappointment.
Just remember, there are no regulations and licensing requirements in place to protect your interests when looking for a literary agent. You have to protect your own interests. Don't depend on Toto to come tugging on the curtain—do it yourself.
But exactly who is this person anyway? What lies beneath the perceived mystique of the Literary Agent?
Most people know the story of the Wizard of Oz.. If you've ever seen the movie, you're sure to remember the moment when "the great and powerful Oz," all fire and flash, was unmasked by little Toto, who tugged on the curtain and eventually exposed a feeble, uninspiring old man who was anything but powerful, and certainly not all that great.
Do you see where I'm going here?
Okay, at the risk of incurring the wrath of any literary agents who happen to stumble upon my blog, let me clarify. I'm not saying that all agents are feeble old men with little power or influence. To the contrary, some of them carry a great deal of weight within the literary community and are masters at finding and placing good novels. But many of them are not nearly the semi-supernatural entities writers often believe them to be. In fact, some of them probably border on incompetent, and more than a few are thinly-veiled scam artists. In my humble opinion, this disturbing state of affairs is due in large part to the lack of rules or regulations governing who can or can't be a literary agent.
Many moons ago, when I decided to become an attorney, I had to go through 4 years of college, 3 years of law school and pass several rigorous exams in order to obtain a license for any state where I wanted to practice. I had to partake in continuing legal education, and had to adhere to the rigid standards of each state's bar association. All this was for the protection of potential clients. When my brother decided to become a research doctor, he had to go through countless years of post-graduate education and training and had to prove himself to the appropriate boards in order to qualify for various research positions. When my friend decided to become a real estate agent, she had to take a designated number of courses and pass a challenging exam in order to obtain her license. When I decided to become a literary agent several years ago, I had to...well...I had to basically do nothing. There were no tests, or classes, or licensing procedures. There was no minimum required education. Basically all I had to do was proclaim myself a literary agent. Was I qualified? Maybe. I could read; I could write; I carried a bachelor's degree and a post-graduate degree (in law); I knew the basics of grammar, structure, spelling, punctuation, etc. (although my editor may beg to differ); I could distinguish a good story from a bad one; I trained with a practicing agent for a year or so, through which I made some connections with editors in the NY publishing houses...but as far as industry qualifications and required licensing? Well, there are none.
Shocked? I was.
When I finished my manuscript for TURN OF THE SENTRY, and began my quest to find a literary agent, I just assumed that if a literary agent was listed in a manual or included on a website, then they must have passed through some rigorous training to get there. After all, that's true for nearly every other profession, right? A dentist isn't listed on the American Dental Association's site unless he has a degree in dentistry; a plumber isn't included on the list for the Professional Plumber's Association unless he is appropriately licensed; a teacher can't get a job teaching my kids unless she has the relevant education and certifications. So it made sense to assume that, in order to hold oneself out as literary agent, there must be some sort of licensing, training, or other standards which must be met. Ah, but in the immortal words of Felix Unger in one of my favorite "Odd Couple" episodes, "...don't ever assume, because when you assume you make an "ass" out of "u" and "me."
It is a sad and scary reality that there are no education requirements, no licensing requirements, no training requirements, no internship requirements, no clearly defined standards whatsoever, for someone wishing to become a literary agent. Basically, anybody can proclaim to the world that they are a literary agent, and *poof* they are a literary agent. Why is this? How is it that the person so revered bywriters as the gatekeeper of the industry doesn't have to show they arequalified to serve as gatekeeper? True, there are watchdog groupsout there who try to keep an eye on unscrupulous agents and try to warn thegeneral writing population that just because someone claims to be aliterary agent doesn't mean they are any good at it. Some writers heedthose warnings, but so many others, through desperation, often fall prey to deception.
Granted, the industry, by necessity, has it's own inherent checks and balances—for instance, if I say I am a literary agent, but have no inroads to publishing houses or connections with editors, I will be hard-pressed to sell anything. And if I don't sell anything, I won't make money. But that doesn't stop many agent wannabe's from trying and, in fact, many publishing houses are more than willing to give a "new" agent a shot by at least taking a look at a manuscript or two. This may give the anxious writer the illusion that the agent is "well-established" in the industry. Still, many so-called agents will solve the dilemma of money by charging up-front fees (i.e. reading fees, editing fees, etc.), and although the watchdogs out there warn writers off any agent who charges fees for any reason, many writers, out of desperation, ignore those warnings and, unfortunately, pay a great deal of money for false hope. There are civil claims a writer can make against the more unscrupulous agents, if and when they get caught. Still, not every inexperienced or newbie agent is necessarily out to screw the unsuspecting writer. To the contrary, many have very good intentions. But, good intentions aside, their lack of experience and practical training may cause more harm than good and may result in nothing but disillusionment and disappointment for both writer and agent. I can say this because I was admittedly in that boat.
I worked for a small literary agency for a year or so. I came to the agency as a client, but one thing led to another and I became an assistant, helping them wade through the river of query letters, and "learning the business" along the way. At first, I just reviewed query letters, picking the good from the bad. If the concept of the story sounded intriguing, chapters were requested. After a while, I began reviewing those, too. During my "training," I would review the chapter(s) already decided upon by those more knowledgable than I, and my mentor would then instruct me as to what I got right, and what I missed. This is how I learned what to look for and what to avoid. After a while of this, I started to get the hang of it, and began reviewing chapters on my own, deciding if they merited further consideration or not. But this "training" was based on the assumption (there's that word again!) that my mentor actually knew what he was doing to begin with. After all, if you do not know math, and someone repeatedly tells you 2 plus 2 equals 5, you will believe it, but it will still be wrong. I'm not saying my mentor was necessarily wrong in what he taught me to look for, but tastes in literature are very subjective. While there are certain elements of writing that are objective (grammatical rules, sentence structure, point of view, etc.), what a particular person finds intriguing or appealing is often more of a subjective matter of style and taste than an objective application of the rules. Nonetheless, on the basis of this brief and limited "training" I was elevated to the status of Assistant Literary Agent.
After a while, my mentor and I had a bit of a falling out, and I struck out on my own. I told a very limited number of writers (mostly personal acquaintances) that I was going to try my hand at Agenting and that I was willing to accept a limited number of clients on a trial basis. Well, this quiet message to a few select people somehow got whisked away on an audible breeze, because in a matter of months, I had over 100 query letters and at least 50 manuscripts (unsolicited)! These writers didn't know me from Adam. I had not advertised on the internet, nor was I listed on "AgentQuery.com," or any other site. Yet they were trusting me with their manuscripts, and letters and packages magically appeared on my doorstep. I quickly realized that I was in way over my head; after all, my connections in the publishing world were very limited at best, and I felt like I was only giving these anxious writers false hope. I shut down my "practice" as a literary agent and retained only one client (who is also a good friend). And yes, I was successful in placing his book with a publisher—more dumb luck than skill, I'm afraid.
So what is my point in all this? I guess it's really an extrapolation of the old phrase, "Buyer Beware." I was not aware until I became an agent myself that there are no licensing requirements or other qualifications which must be met in order to call yourself a literary agent. I would guess that many writers out there aren't aware of that either. In truth, writers will often cling desperately to the first agent who shows an interest in their manuscript without giving much thought as to whether that agent is qualified to represent their work. Not to say that my agent was not qualified, but his expertise was not in the science fiction, horror or fantasy field. My book went out to a short list of potential editors, after which I was told that it was not salable and I should shelf it and begin working on my next one. It was a frustrating experience for both of us. Turns out that TURN OF THE SENTRY was salable—it just took more time than he was willing to give, and different connections then he had. I learned the hard way that agents have no mystical powers; just because an agent accepts your manuscript doesn't necessarily mean he or she is a good match for your book or that it will even come close to selling. When I was serving my time as a literary agent, I wasalways upfront with potential clients about my lack of experience andmy newness to the profession. Other wannabe agents may not be so honest
For those of you who care, my advice is simple. On that glorious day when an agent actually offers representation, don't break out the champagne right away. Check out the agents credentials. Any agent who is worth your time should not take offense to an inquiry as to his/her experience, previous sales, and track record. Find out how many years they have been an agent, and what, if anything, they did before that. Was it related to literature, or was there no connection whatsoever. If the agent is "fresh out of college," ask about his/her course of study—i.e. did they major in mathematics or English literature? After all, would you send your child to a daycare without first checking the credentials and experience of that daycare? In effect, for many writers, their manuscripts are their babies—why would you want to put your baby in the hands of someone not qualified to handle it? Take a hard look at the agent's past sales, and see what types of books they have been representing—see if they match the style/genre of your manuscript. Check out the publishing houses/editors whom they've been selling to. Are they houses you are interested in? Are they houses that publish the kind of book you have written?
If any literary agent balks at these simple requests, red flags should be flying all over the place.
Finally, be very, very wary of any agent who charges fees for anything,especially any kind of reading or editing fees. Be extremely cautiousof any agent who refers you to an outside source for editing,especially if that outside source is going to charge you money.
I know first hand how tempting it is to disregard these "minor" details and grab hold of an agent with both hands, grateful to have one, regardless of their experience or specialization. This will do you no good, and will probably result in bitter disappointment.
Just remember, there are no regulations and licensing requirements in place to protect your interests when looking for a literary agent. You have to protect your own interests. Don't depend on Toto to come tugging on the curtain—do it yourself.
Posted by A.M. Boyle at 1/22/2010 11:04 AM 
Categories: Writing
Tags: Agent writing literary novel literary industry publish literary agent publishing selling
Categories: Writing
Tags: Agent writing literary novel literary industry publish literary agent publishing selling
Awesome, Ann! More people need to be honest with artists out there. Discouraging writers is a crime, whether it's punishable or not. Unscrupulous agents--and others in the industry--destroy dreams, disillusion hope, and even turn writers against their own work. They almost did it to you, but you didn't listen. Good for you.
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Excellent post, Ann.
I'm often surprised at how many writers get so desperate to see their name in print that they fork over money for agents to read their ms, or worse, self-publish a book that's at best, not ready, and at worst, just not good enough.
Thanks for sharing
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Ann,
This was not only informative, but an incredibly well written piece - thank you!
Your insights on licensing of doctors or lawyers or almost anyone else (except computer guys, LOL) really made the point of 'Hey, I can be a lit agent too!'. But what I appreciated the most was your honesty on working your way up the trade, and then abandoning it for the writer's integrity. Way to go!
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Thanks! Great insight into the world of agents. I would love to hear your comments on self publishing
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Ann, thanks so much for this. I'm about to start writing my first travel book and this is the first bit of info I've read about getting into the industry - really useful. Suppose I should really start to write before worrying about this though, eh?!
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Thanks a million for this blog, Ann! Intelligent, beautifully written and incredible advice. I've completed my 115,000 word debut historical thriller and am now seeking an agent. Hit some landmines along the way -- especially unscupulous editors. Wordcount is the problem. Sounds like you'd make an awfully good agent/editor - caring, honest. I plan to read your blog on a regular basis. It's incredible. Thanks Again, Eileen
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