I have to be honest and say I’m feeling pretty good about life right now. Because today is the day I signed an agreement with an agent to represent me. Yes, folks, three years, sixteen rejections and endless revisions since I first started writing The PTA Assassin, I FINALLY have an agent. And it feels amazing and, I’ll admit, a little scary too.
It felt like a lot more than sixteen rejections. When I looked at my spreadsheet I could hardly believe that was all there was. So in one way, I am hugely lucky and grateful that I didn’t suffer more. But those rejections swallowed two years of my life and with each one I lost a little more hope and had a little less belief in myself. It wasn’t about the quantity of ‘no’s’ really; rather more, it was the painfully elongated business of waiting followed by almost certain crushing disappointment that nearly finished me off.
Submissions, for anyone not familiar with them, all follow a similar pattern and there are three distinct stages to the process:
1) Research the agents you want to submit to. Do they represent books in your genre already (and will they want another one)? Do they take on debut authors? Do they work editorially with authors? Are they currently taking submissions at all? Are they looking for anything in particular at the moment? Did they tweet/blog/interview about something in the past three months that you can refer to in your cover letter? Do they seem active on social media, are they busy (but not too busy)? How many authors do they have in their stable? Have these authors had their work published?
2) When you finally have your short list, prepare your submissions, somewhere between three and five at a time. Any more than that, and if you do get any interest, the agent concerned might not be super impressed to hear how many replies you’re waiting on. It’s a small industry, relatively speaking. The scatter gun approach is tempting but your manuscript won’t be, if word gets around that you’ve sent it to thirty agents in one go. Ensure you haven’t attached Manuscript_v.shitty.doc by mistake and then sit and wait for four to six weeks for someone to reply to you.
3) At the six week mark, wonder if you should get in touch with the agents who haven’t already replied with a form letter. At the seven week mark, hold out a faint glimmer of hope that they are holding onto it because they love it so much, rather than because they haven’t had time to reply to say no to you. Email polite reminders, cringe in case they hate you for sending them, and then wait again. Receive the remaining rejections a few weeks later with varying degrees of apology for keeping you waiting.
If you do the math, let’s say it takes you a week to research the agents, a week to pull together those five submissions, plus another eight to ten weeks to get all the replies. That’s up to three months. Over a year, allowing for holidays and Christmas and earning money doing your actual day job, tweaking your submission and so on, you might just about be able to cycle this process three times. And once you do get a sniff of interest, the process becomes even more drawn out.
I had not really appreciated, until now, the sloth speed at which this industry works. And even now, I’m still only beginning to scratch the surface. Very, verrrry slowly scratch it. Weeks and months have passed between the first pitch to my agent at the London Book Fair and getting the contract to sign. A big YES to getting face time for a pitch rather than submitting by email, by the way, if you’re brave enough. Not only do you get to express yourself in person instead of by email, but it might shortcut the process significantly if, like my agent, they ask for the whole manuscript at the first meeting. Still, if she’d said no at any point after that (which was statistically the more likely option), following her feedback and resubmission I would have been back to the beginning of the process all over again with very little to show for the past four months.
BUT SHE SAID YES! So I’m now at the beginning of a whole new journey. We have met again to discuss our plan and put a timeline in place, and there’s a whole lot of work for me to do before she takes the first novel out on submission in September. But boy, is it amazing to have someone talk to you about your book and your career, who is almost as excited about it as you are! It made me realise how lonely self publishing might have felt in comparison, for me, at any rate. Agents aren’t there to be your best friend but they are the adult in the room – someone who knows how to steer you through the publication process, someone to bounce ideas off and get a steer on how imminently ready your book might be.
So a new chapter begins. Arguably nothing has changed at all; it’s still the publisher that will say yes or no and how much and when. But someone else is going to be alongside me now, working to make my dream of publication happen, and that has changed everything.
And now, the sentence I’ve been DYING to write for ages:
Faye Brann is represented by Davinia Andrew-Lynch @Andlynlit. All enquiries to firstname.lastname@example.org