Author: ireneg

The most important sentence in a book is the first sentence. If you don’t like the first sentence, you may not read any further. You could argue that this would be lazy and short-sighted and you might be right, but that is not what you’re going for when you want to sell a book.

Let’s take a look at some of my favorite first sentences:

Guido Maffeo was castrated when he was six years old and sent to study with the finest singing masters in Naples.

–Anne Rice, CRY TO HEAVEN

Captain Ahab was neither my first husband nor my last.

–Sena Jeter Naslund, AHAB’S WIFE

We have been lost to each other for so long.

–Anita Diamant, THE RED TENT

You don’t know about me without you have read a book by the name of The Adventures of Tom Sawyer, but that ain’t no matter.

This first sentence follows a warning to the reader:

NOTICE

PERSONS attempting to find a motive in this narrative will be prosecuted;

persons attempting to find a moral in it will be banished; persons

attempting to find a plot in it will be shot.

–Mark Twain, THE ADVENTURES OF HUCKLEBERRY FINN

If you really want to hear about it, the first thing you’ll probably want to know is where I was born, and what my lousy childhood was like, and how my parents were occupied and all before they had me, and all that David Copperfield kind of crap, but I don’t feel like going into it, if you want to know the truth.

J.D. Salinger, THE CATCHER IN THE RYE

 

Read these over and think about why they work. Do you want to keep reading? That’s the main question. What are some of your favorite examples? Why did they speak to you so compellingly? What made you want to read on?

Let’s talk about THE CATCHER IN THE RYE, a book that most people have read. I never heard of anyone who didn’t like it. It is considered a great work of American literature.

But will its place continue to hold up? After all, all of its characters are white, there is homophobia, and it shows a teenager drinking. Terrible, huh?

That is the problem with too much wokeness. If you are going to cancel THE CATCHER IN THE RYE, you might as well cancel all the great works of American literature. HUCKLEBERRY FINN has already been criticized for showing an enslaved man and the south’s general attitude toward slavery. Never mind that Huck, the hero, stands up to it and says “I’ll go to hell” rather than turn Jim in.

Yes, CATCHER has elements of which we don’t approve today. But it wasn’t written today. It was written more than 75 years ago, when such attitudes were very accepted. Drinking was cool, homophobia was common, and just about every novel or TV show or movie featured only white people. We can look back at that as a time of ignorance or oppression or very limited exposure. But for God’s sake, do not throw this book out the window. It is a masterpiece.

Every person lives in a time that will fade and go away. And after a while, no one will remember having lived in it. Today, we cannot ever really know what it was like to live in the U.S. (either north or south) during the Civil War, but it scarred the souls of everyone who experienced it. That’s for them to remember, but they are gone now. Some people still can remember what things were like during the time of THE CATCHER IN THE RYE. Maybe it gives them better insight to the novel, but nothing can detract from its ultimate message. It is the quintessential novel about adolescence. It is about the cost of growing up and the cost of refusing to grow up. That is universal, and despite the references or images that are now considered distasteful, it will always ring true.

If I were an author looking for an agent, here is what I would do.

I would not just send a query and hope for the best. Agents are overwhelmed with queries and they don’t always get read. This is what I would do instead.

The best way is through a referral. That means you have to know someone who is represented by a good agent. Join a good writers group that includes published authors and get to know the other members. Shmooze around. Talk to people. Go to a writers conference. Get a sense of who you might want. Do this with good faith and an open spirit. You want to genuinely get to know people and form bonds. Don’t just do this to pick someone’s brain. You are looking to join a community, not to use people. Successful authors are often open to helping new writers. Make friends wisely. Don’t push it, but keep up the contacts.

The next step is the hardest. You have to be ready and you have to be good. No one wants to recommend shoddy work to their agent. They will have an idea of what their agent represents, and of course you can check out the websites of just about every agent and get a sense of who they are, what they do, and how they operate. There are plenty of good agencies, but you only need one. Before you approach anyone, you have to be positive that what you have to offer is the right stuff. No matter how much you love it, get other opinions from people who would know. That means any publishing professional, your published author friends, or freelance editors. It does not mean your mother, your spouse, your best friend, or your dog. They are not objective and they don’t know anything about the business.

Finally, I would take the big step and ask someone if they would be willing to refer me to their agent. Do this only after you are very sure you have accomplished all of the above. You may get a hedgy answer for various reasons. Or you may get an enthusiastic yes. There is only one way to find out. Ask politely, don’t push, and be ready to keep trying.

Best of luck with this process. I have taken on more new clients through referrals than through any other method. So I can assure you that this does work. Learn how to network, be brutally honest with yourself, and keep your eyes on the goal.

 

 

There are different kinds of agents. You want the one who is the right one for you, which may be different from what your writer friend wants, or what your spouse thinks you should have.

Agents break down into distinct groups:

The big agencies. These agencies are famous and they can do a perfectly good job. But their book divisions are usually not their strongest money-makers. They make a lot more money from movies and TV, not to mention actors. Their book agents are good, and they have access to serious connections. But when you go with an agency that makes a living from books only, it’s more focused and immediate.

The newbies. A young, new agent is going to be excited, eager, and passionate. They are thrilled every time they sell a book, and they are very dedicated. What they lack in experience they make up for in enthusiasm. Will they make mistakes? Sure. But they probably won’t be awful mistakes, and mistakes can often be fixed. If you are a young, eager author, consider going with a young, eager agent. You two will speak the same language and you will grow up in the business together.

Ten Years In. After ten years, an agent really starts to come into her or his own. They  become known, trusted, and respected.  By now they are starting to land books on bestseller lists. They are still fairly young, which makes them both current and with some experience under their belts. They are still hungry and will fight hard.

Seasoned and experienced. This is the middle ground, but it can be the most powerful. These agents are still passionate, but they have the experience and seasoning  to add to the mix. They are in their element and they are on top of their game.

Old Timers. They have the kind of experience that can’t be bought. They may no longer care about the latest, hot new trend, but they can negotiate up a storm and they have all kinds of secrets up their sleeves.

 

All of these are good choices. The most important ingredient is mutual respect and a good rapport. You want an agent who is passionate about your work, not someone who sees a good thing and is just trying to cash in. When it’s a good match, there is a kind of click. That click will last for a long time if you respect it and lean into it.

Humility is a virtue. You can be demanding, assertive, insistent, and even call rank, and still have humility.

Arrogance is not a virtue and it is not desirable in any way. I have seen authors who are arrogant. They are also insecure and needy, and their fears present themselves as arrogance.

A humble author doesn’t need to be arrogant, because that author is confident and secure. I can spot the arrogant ones a mile away. They assume they are the smartest person in the room, they are condescending, and they have a subtle way of putting everyone down. No one likes them, and they don’t care. They just want to be a big shot.

There is a reason why Paul Newman, a once famous movie star, drove a Volkswagon. He liked Volkswagons. He didn’t need a big fancy car, a big fancy desk, or a big fancy anything. He had nothing to prove. That is because he knew who he was and where he stood. Yes, he was insanely famous, and he enjoyed his success and knew how to spend his money. But he was never arrogant.

There used to be a very successful author who would approach crowded elevators and expect people to move aside for her. She actually once said, “Move aside, ladies. With rank comes privilege.” Yuck. That is not the same as knowing your worth. You can insist on a first class plane ticket because you have earned it and you deserve it. And probably need it. You can point this out calmly and without hubris.

It’s hard to be confident and secure as a writer. It’s an isolating profession and it can be lonely. It would be easy to pump up an alter ego that is not a true reflection of you who you really are. Easy, but dumb. Then it will be phony and it takes a lot of energy to keep that up. Spend that energy on your work and on your real friends. You know who they are.

Anyone can be an author today. Anyone. It used to be that someone else had to be willing to invest money in you, but no more. Now you can invest in yourself.

What used to be called the midlist has now gone largely into self-publishing. It means that if you are a good, fast writer, you don’t have to be bound by the comparable slowness of traditional publishing, you get to keep most of the money, and you can steer your own ship. Sounds good, huh?

Mostly it is good. And yet I am still here and I still have a job. Why is that?

There are many reasons, but here are two:

The most obvious reason is that an agent can get you a sophisticated deal with a real publisher, who might spend a great deal of money to make the book a success—way more than you would spend yourself. An agent will understand the complexities of a publishing contract, and will be familiar with all the things that can go wrong. They will be there for you every step of the way, solving problems, asking questions, and going to bat for you. I can’t think of a single author at that level who isn’t represented in some way. But there is more. Writing is a lonely, isolating profession. Authors need someone to talk to who isn’t their mom or their writer friend (where there is bound to be competition), their spouse, or their dog. They want to talk to someone who really gets it–and can do something about it. And if that’s your goal, that’s how you should start. We aren’t yet at a place where the Great American Novel is going to debut online. That day may well come, but even then, there are some losses. Most books need to be edited. They need classy design and cover art. You need the distribution that will get you into drugstores, supermarkets, libraries, schools—and oh, yes, bookstores. So far, I haven’t seen that kind of quality in self-published books. (Ask me again in a year.)

The best way to do this is with genre books, especially when the author can turn out several books a year. The readers just want the story; they don’t care so much about the production quality. On the other hand, there are plenty of cookbook authors who self-publish, and they end up with books that don’t look bad but they could look better. Worse, they are overpriced and too short. They often sell these books only off their website, which means no distribution. When one such author came to me, I was able to get her six figures, another hefty sum for the photos, a decent royalty, and all of the support a publisher can bring. They will easily spend six figures on support alone, not to mention the production costs, the advance, and everything else. This doesn’t even begin to address income from potential foreign sales, audio, dramatic rights, and merchandising rights. Sometimes those things can be huge.

Publishers make money and get paid for a reason. It’s hard. You probably don’t know how to do everything they do, and may not want to.  You have to know about pricing, discounting, distributing, subscriptions, what the market is doing day by day, competition, formatting, polished cover art and book design, incentives, bookstore placement, shelving, awards and prizes, deft and constant handling of social media, mailing lists, a robust online platform including a dynamic website, and about a thousand other things.

So you have to weigh the ingredients. Some people are very good at self-publishing, and more power to them. But they have to spend an enormous amount of time and savvy doing everything a publisher does. They have to spend money as well. They could spend that time writing another book. There is no free lunch.

If you are ambitious and very internet savvy, self-publishing may be the right road for you. Do the math, check out the possibilities, and find out what you will get or not get with a traditional publisher. If you write faster than they can publish you, that’s a clue right there.

How does all of this affect me? Well, it doesn’t. I’m not in a place where I want those midlisty books.  True, a midlist author can build, and many of my authors have done exactly that.  So I would never say never, but only a small percentage of those authors go on to become big sellers. Newer agents may feel differently. But at every conference I attend, someone always asks if agents are becoming obsolete. I always smile, look around the packed room with people spilling out the doorway, and point out the obvious. If you don’t think you need an agent, then why are you here?

Here’s what I do know. Good writing never goes out of style, whatever the format. If you have a wonderful story or something important to say, it will find a place.

You sign up to go to a writers conference. You’re excited to land an appointment with an agent you have always admired. You prepare eagerly for this appointment and you are nervous when you get there. This is your big chance, you think. Talking to a real live agent will open an elusive door for you. Even if the agent doesn’t ask to see your work, you have accomplished something.

What is wrong with this picture?
It’s a fallacy.

Anyone can sign up to talk to an agent or editor. These requests are not screened beforehand. And when you get your fifteen minutes, what do you think will happen? There is only so much that can happen, because as I have said many times, the proof is in the reading. If they ask to see your work, that is no guarantee that they will want to take it further. If they don’t ask to see your work, it’s not necessarily an indication that your work isn’t salable.

Now take a step back and ask yourself how a conference makes money, or at least breaks even. It’s expensive to put on a conference. Someone has to pay for the use of the hotel, the flights and hotel bills for invited speakers, the conference rooms and banquet halls, and for any meals that are provided. They get a nice bundle charging authors who want to attend. Part of that bundle is the chance to meet in person with an agent or editor.

In short, it’s how they attract people to attend their conference, regardless of what the results may be. The chance to meet with an industry professional is so alluring that authors don’t always stop to think what it will really mean for them.

I stopped doing appointments a long time ago, because in all the years I’ve been doing this, I found exactly one author who became a client, and whose books sold. That happened because I was seated at a luncheon table with about 6 aspiring authors, so I went around the table to inquire about what each author was working on. The last person was so far from me that I could barely hear him, so I moved over to sit next to him. Because it was a lunch with no time limit to how long we could talk, we were both able to relax.

He had a very appealing and salable idea, so I asked to see the manuscript. When I got it, I was immediately hooked. I offered representation, which he accepted, and before long we had our first sale.

It should always go like that, right? But it doesn’t. That story is the only time it has worked, at least for me.

Here’s what usually happens. The idea sounds off-market or just unappealing to me. Or it has been done many times before. Or it’s something I am quite sure will have a poor chance of selling. Or the author is so nervous that she writes her pitch down and then reads it to me, her hands shaking. When that happens, I gently take the paper out of her hand, and ask her to pretend she’s talking to a sister or a friend and just tell me her story. It’s awkward and painful when something like that happens. I don’t really care so much what you look like (unless you look terminally weird), or how your manners are (but do try to have some), or who you know, or what some editor said. All I care about is what’s on the page. I’m not going to sit there and read your manuscript in front of you, so the best we can do is to have a pleasant conversation and hope for the best.

A better way to meet industry professionals is to hang around the bar and the lobby where people congregate. Start conversations. Be friendly, but not overbearing. Talk about the weather or the airport or a new movie or a great restaurant in town. You don’t have to go barging around talking about yourself. Ease into it and let it happen gradually. I usually ask people what they are working on, which is a clear invitation. It’s one of the reasons we are there, after all, but I find it much more practical than a stilted, timed meeting. I have hooked up with plenty of authors that way, and it all felt quite natural.

So, if I were an author, I would make the best use of my time by schmoozing around and making myself available, being helpful, being assertive without being pushy, and being alert for opportunities. Don’t be scared. Be friendly. “Do you need an extra chair?” Or “May I join you?” are a lot better than horning in on a private conversation or sitting there hoping someone will notice you.

None of this means you shouldn’t make that appointment. You never know what might happen. Just recognize it for its real purpose and have reasonable expectations.

I’m thinking of the time I was sitting on an agents panel at a conference and realized that I was the best-dressed person on the panel.

This was not hard to do.  Next to me was a young woman with long, unkempt hair. She was wearing some kind of ratty tee, loose pants that looked like clown pants, and great big basketball hightops. On the other side of her was a young man wearing a worn plaid shirt, jeans with holes in them, and sturdy work boots. He looked like a lumberjack.

I was wearing a red, well-made sweater, a gray skirt, a red and white scarf, red earrings, and red shoes. Okay, I got the scarf in Paris. It cost a mere 25 euros. I had a neutral manicure before coming to the conference and my haircut was fairly new.

This is not about knowing how to dress. It’s about looking like a professional, with decent clothes and basic grooming.

Who would you rather talk to if you are looking for an agent or a publisher? The clown pants, the lumberjack, or me? There is nothing wrong with dressing casually. In fact, it is often preferable. But do the jeans have to have holes, no matter how trendy that may be? Can you get a tee that is less than 20 years old and doesn’t sag? If you get a fresh tee, tuck it in, and use a nice-looking belt, you are already there. If you accessorize simply, you are even more there. As an author, no one expects you to look fancy. Just reasonable. You can even be funky or creative or ultra conservative or retro. Just not like you woke up five minutes ago or live in a forest.

I have seen authors who show up wearing bedroom slippers and curlers in their hair. On the other end of the spectrum, I have seen authors who think they are supposed to look very successful, and their idea of proving that is to wear $5000 designer suits and handbags. Really not necessary.

If you have a meeting with your publisher, don’t fret. It is not likely that they will be very dressed up, and you don’t have to be either. But they will look pulled together, and so should you.

On the other hand, I have seen conferences that expect people to dress inappropriately. One had a pajama party in the evening. Yes, I’m serious. They expected authors, agents, and editors to show up in nightgowns or pajamas. Another was held in Hawaii, and everyone was expected to wear swimsuits around the pool. Sorry, folks, but I don’t want to show that much of myself in a work setting. This was a writers conference, not a surfing convention.

Whatever you wear, it should be comfortable. If you feel like your neck is in a noose wearing a tie, don’t bother with it. No one will mind. You don’t need spike heels or anything that slows you down or gets in your way. Remember, you are there to work. Keep it simple, be yourself, and don’t look hopelessly weird. That’s all you need.

Remember what Coco Chanel said. If you dress shabbily, they will remember the clothes. If you dress impeccably, they will remember you.

 

I once received a letter from a 10-year-old girl about a math assignment. The math teacher asked all the kids what kind of profession they wanted to enter, and how math would play a role in that kind of work. The girl said she would get extra credit if I answered. I wanted her to get extra credit

This girl wanted to be a writer, so she was asking how much math writers need to use in their work. It was a valid question for most people–just not for potential writers.

No one becomes a writer because they are good at math. And the very little they use is calculated for them on the computer. You need to know how many words you have written? A quick glance will tell you. You don’t understand your royalty statement? Well, cheer up, because most royalty statements are not user-friendly anyway. Your agent should be able to answer your question, and if the agent doesn’t know, she can ask the publisher. Someone will know the answer. Knowledge of math is not a requirement for the author. You want to understand the vital importance of a sell-through, which involves percentages? Ask your agent. Once you get it, you will know it forever. So I can’t really say that it plays no role at all in a writer’s career, but it doesn’t in the actual writing.

I was very pleased to receive this letter. It was a good question and one I was able to answer honestly. I hope she got the extra credit. What I loved about it was that this girl had the sense to actually find someone in the business and to reach out and ask. Sometimes that’s all it takes. Ask. Send that email. Call that number. Don’t ever assume you won’t be able to get to someone. And don’t be so sure they are too busy or too surrounded by buffers to be interested in you.

No one knew how to name characters better than Dickens. Who else would come up with a name like Ebenezer Scrooge? It sounds exactly like who he is. No one in the world has ever been named that, and that’s just the point. It’s fine to be a little outrageous when it helps to define the character.

Sure, you can name your character Dave or Linda or Chris. But what if you went with Dexter, Winona, or Clementine?  It just sounds more interesting, like these people are not average. And why should your characters be average?

We have expectations of certain names. Irving is bound to be someone older, and probably dull. Tallulah is probably unique, or very southern, or both. Anyone named Samson is bound to be strong. It’s hard to imagine a puny, wimpy kid called Samson, unless you are being deliberately ironic.

If you have trouble coming up with names, get a book of baby names and have fun with it. You can also get foreign names on line for just about any nationality.

Think about what the name means. Corleone means “heart of a lion”.  What a perfect name for that particular family. And there really is a town in Sicily called Corleone. Mario Puzo used it because it was real, but also because it was so evocative.

Naming characters and places can be maddening when you can’t think of just the right thing. But it’s worth it. It’s all part of the storytelling.