From: eliz@ai.mit.edu (Elizabeth Willey)
Subject: Re: Getting an Agent?
Organization: MIT Artificial Intelligence Laboratory
Date: Fri, 10 Apr 1992 22:20:12 GMT

Do let mine be the first of the ten thousand replies this shall surely generate.

In a despairing cry against injustice, ARL00SJB@UNCCVM.UNCC.EDU writes:

   I just read Chuq's post about getting an agent to rep you if you want to
   get serious about writing.  I have a question about that.  I read elsewhere
   that a writer doesn't need an agent until and unless the writer can't keep
   track of what's been sent where, and who owes you money, and the like.

First, put your "opinion" filter on.  Different writers, as you can
surely see from the discussions here so far, have very different
opinions as to when or why an agent is needed.  You have read one
writer's opinion.  Clearly that writer is of the opinion that the
agent's function is to keep track of all of his business and perhaps
to file his taxes too.  That is not what most agents do.  Most agents
are people who specialize in Knowing The Right Stuff.  An agent is
paid for knowing when and to whom to submit something, when to pull
it, when to nudge, when to let lie.  Timing is important in business.
Many writers do not have the specialized knowledge of the market that
would allow them to take maximum advantage of every opportunity.  The
agent's job is doing just that---on behalf of her clients.

Some writers DO have that specialized knowledge and are willing to put
time and energy into their own marketing.  These often excoriate
agents as parasites and toadies who produce nothing, living on the
labors of others.  These writers are certainly entitled to an opinion,
but their nonexistent agents will never take them out to lunch, invite
them to regrettable or excellent parties, or laugh at their tasteless
dachsund-with-a-bad-back jokes.

As a side benefit, the effective and popular agent will come to wield
a certain amount of clout with those who buy her clients' services.
Annoying an agent who represents a lot of good clients expends
goodwill which could be more usefully put to other uses, and editors
treat the agent with a good client list more respectfully than they
treat the individual clients.

  *I* have a problem with the idea that I need to pay someone out of money that
   I don't yet have, to get my work sold.

I'd have a problem with that too.  Luckily, no *reputable* agent that
I've heard of (and my knowledge is, it must unfortunately be said
LOUDLY AND CLEARLY, imperfect), takes payment up front.  Your agent
gets paid when you do.  She takes a cut (percentage) of your royalties
and your advances against royalties (i.e. advances).  This means that
if the agent does not sell the work, she does not get paid.

This is generally agreed to be an effective stimulus to agents.

					  I just submitted a manuscript to
   a market that I found out *after* the manuscript was mailed doesn't
   accept unagented work *and* doesn't accept unsolicited work.
   [incorrect conclusions based on earlier extract deleted]

Many publishers, by this gentle deflective ruse, distract the frenzied
attentions of would-be authors to the agents, using the agents as a
feeding filter, a kind of literary baleen, so that only the guaranteed
tasty bits get through.  In other industries with agents, as in movies
or plays, the filtering process is even more blatantly assigned to the
agent.

			 So far, I haven't received it back, but I don't
   hold out a lot of hope that it will be read before they ship it off to
   me again.  It's probably sitting in a large pile under a sign marked
   "Unsolicited, unagented - return to sender."

Not necessarily.  Publishers are in the business of publishing.

Rather than tearing your hair, why don't you give them a ring and ask?
Explain that you weren't aware of their policy.  Try to get through to
someone beyond the receptionist/secretary level, say an Editorial
Assistant or Assistant Editor---the person to whom you addressed your
submission is ideal (you *did* do a little research and find out to
whom things should be addressed, didn't you?), and ask very sadly and
politely if you must withdraw your outstanding work from their
consideration.  Be regretful.  Be professional.  Inquire with
exquisite tact and politeness as to whether, possibly, under the
table, the editor could suggest the names of agents with whom the
company has done business.

Good manners judiciously applied will often bring surprising results.

   So much for the wide-eyed writer who thought all she had to do was
   finish the manuscript and submit it - or is that the same fantasy of
   the scores of young people who flock to Hollywood and think that they
   will be "discovered"?

Don't be so bitter about it.  That's *never* all you have to do.  It's
Step One.

Good luck!


Elizabeth Willey