Advanced Fiction Writing Blog

I‘m continuing to respond to various comments on my blog over the last few days.

Marcus wrote:

At some point, I’d love to hear the agent vs. no agent debate here. I get mixed messages from many writers. (Though I’m thinking I’m an agent kind of writer–if I’m any kind of writer at all.)

Randy sez: Don’t get an agent if:
* You have all the contacts with editors you need
* You can negotiate a publishing contract skillfully
* You don’t need help with proposals
* You don’t need career advice

Otherwise, get an agent. Make sense?

Tim wrote:

What if you finish your manuscript and send it to several editors and get interest from two or three. What do you do about that, also if you meet with an editor or agent and you have already sent out letters to other editors should you tell the editor or agent that you have done so?

Randy sez: If more than one editor asks to see the work, let them see it! Be sure to let them know that you have multiple interests, but don’t make a big deal about it.

If you meet with an editor or agent and they express interest in your work, then they will almost certainly ask who else has seen it and what was their response. You should tell the truth here. Telling the truth is an Xtremely good idea in the publishing world, for a number of reasons. You are always allowed to put your best foot forward, but you must not lie, period. Lies will catch up with you, and publishing is a small world.

Karen wrote:

What if you do a Ted Dekker thing and walk in with a dozen novels under your armpit? How do you handle that without looking like a geek?

Randy sez: If you do, you need to have a Ted Dekker-sized armpit. Ted is a special guy with tons of ideas and he works extremely hard. If you are also special with tons of ideas and you have the work ethic to carry it off, then do so. Otherwise, you might want to just pitch one project like the rest of us mortals.

Andra asked:

If I talk to an agent who in the end isn’t a good fit, is it appropriate to ask if he or she knows another agent who would be?

If so, would it then be appropriate to mention the recommendation in a query letter (or face-to-face meeting) to the new agent?

Randy sez: It depends on why you’re “not a good fit.” If you get the idea that the agent thinks you’re a good writer, but your action-adventure novel just isn’t a sweet romance like all her other projects, then go ahead and ask for a referral. If you get one, it is always a good idea to say, “Can I tell Agent X that you referred me?” The answer will give you some idea of how enthusiastic the agent is.

On the other hand, if you have the strong impression that the agent doesn’t like your writing, then asking for a referral is likely to get you an incredulous “No!” or a referral to the Agent From Hell. So tread carefully here.

You might imagine that no agent or editor would ever recommend a writer to their competition. The agents and editors I know sometimes do this. 10 years ago at a writing conference, my buddy John Olson pitched a Christian vampire novel around. One of the editors, Lisa Bergern, didn’t think she could use it, but she showed it to her friend, Karen Ball. Karen loved it, but she also knew she couldn’t buy it for her publishing house. Two publishing houses later, Karen bought it and that novel will come out this October under the title SHADE. So it happens.

Ann asked:

Randy, on interviews with Agents and Publishers, do you think it would be acceptable to ask if they would agree to my recording the interview, and making it clear that it’s only to be able to go over their advice and requests (if they have any requests) at a later date?

Randy sez: Yes, ask. If they say no, do NOT punch them in the nose, stalk off in disgust, or otherwise show your displeasure. Smile pleasantly, instead, and say, “Did anyone ever tell you that you look much nicer than the south end of a north-bound rhino?” Trust me, this always builds bridges. You can never have too many bridges.

Miss Skye asked:

I’m curious– did you finish reading the Harry Potter series yet? The reason I ask is I wanted to direct your attention to editor Cheryl Klein’s speech “A Few Things Writers Can Learn from Harry Potter”.

Randy sez: My girls and I are almost done reading HP aloud. We are about to begin the final battle at Hogwarts in Book 7. This is a LONG reading project, but we’re really enjoying it. Of course, all of us have read it multiple times, so there are no surprises, but every time I read the series, I notice new things. In my opinion, JK Rowling is one of the best authors on the planet. I read through the speech by Cheryl Klein and it was excellent.

I’m wrapping up my answers to the various questions that have been posted here lately on agents.

Lynda wrote:

I was reading about a conference. They said there would be public and private interviews with agents. Does this mean some interviews are done with an audience listening in? Or a panel of agents? Dispair!!!

Randy sez: I’m not quite sure what it means, but one thing that is commonly done at writing conferences is to have a panel of agents and let writers do quick pitches to either individual agents or to the panel as a whole while the audience listens.

This has got to be the most terrifying thing imaginable to me and so I’ve never done it. I’ve seen it done, and it seems not to be so bad, especially if you already enjoy crawling naked over broken glass while a tiger chases you. Some people like that sort of thing and others don’t.

If this doesn’t appeal to you, then don’t do it. There are other ways to meet agents and editors.

Carly wrote:

My question is what are the responsibilities of an Agent?

Wow, this question will show just how much of a freshman I am: What is the difference between the Agent and the Editor?

Randy sez: This is a safe place to ask Freshman-level questions. Be assured that there are other Freshmen out there wondering the same thing, but who don’t have the guts to ask.

The main responsibility of an agent is to help you sell your book to a publisher and get the best terms you can. This includes the following tasks:
* Help with preparing a book proposal
* Give editorial suggestions
* Pitch the book to editors
* Negotiate the deal
* In some cases, receive the money from the publisher and cut you a check for your share. (In some cases, the publisher writes a check to the agent and a check to the author.)

Agents can and often do some of these other tasks:
* Give you career guidance
* Give you ideas for marketing your book
* Make connections with other authors for co-authoring opportunities
* Support and encourage you

I have had agents do all of the above for me.

Agents usually DON’T do these tasks:
* Give you loans
* Do paid editorial work for you
* Babysit your cat
* Marry you

I have heard of agents doing most of the above, though my best belief is that all of these events are rare.

Carly’s second question was on the difference between an editor and an agent.

An editor is someone employed by a publishing house to acquire manuscripts, edit them, and shepherd them through the publishing process. An editor will be the person who takes your book to the publishing committee (if there is a publishing committee) and fights for approval to get your book published. The editor will often fight for the right cover for your book (I’ve had an editor do this when everyone else at the publisher wanted the wrong cover, and he won–thank you, Steve Laube!) In short, your editor is your book’s champion at the publishing house. Please note that it is not your editor’s job to get you the most possible money for your book. The editor has a fiduciary responsibility to the publishing house to help it earn money. So the editor will offer you what he or she considers a reasonable amount of money, but NOT a generous amount.

The agent is YOUR employee. You hire an agent on a commission basis to get the best financial deal and to negotiate the contract to make sure there are no onerous clauses that will cause you trouble. Typically, the commission is 15% and the agent doesn’t get paid until you get paid. You should avoid agents who want money upfront to represent you. The agent has a fiduciary responsibility to YOU to protect your interests.

There is of course some conflict between editors and agents, because they have fiduciary responsibilities to different parties. The editor’s job is to make money for the publisher. The agent’s job is to make money for you. Somewhere in the middle is the sweet spot where everyone is as happy as possible.

It is common for editors to switch sides to become agents. Chip MacGregor, whom I interviewed here recently, was the editor for my first novel. Later, he became an agent and represented me for several years, until he jumped ship to work for Time-Warner. Now he’s an agent again. The editor of my second novel, Steve Laube, is also now an uber-agent like Chip.

I will say it again: Editors and agents are some of the coolest people on the planet. (Matched only for inherent coolness by novelists.) I realize that it’s hard for Freshman-level writers to believe this, but if you persist in this writing game, eventually you’ll have many friends who are editors and agents and you will be interested in them because they are so much fun to be with, rather than because you think they can advance your career. And they’ll be interested in you for the same reason.

I’m continuing to work through my backlog of questions on agents and editors.

Sam asked:

I was wondering how to submit a few pages or a one-sentence + one paragraph summary to an agent without attending a conference. Chip had mentioned submitting through email but referencing the conference so he knew it wasn’t a cold submission. Do agents just ignore cold submissions? How can we find an agent (that will help us either market the book or tell us it needs work) that will accept a cold submission?

Randy sez: That’s several questions, which I’ll break apart as follows:

You can submit something to an agent without ever meeting them. This is how my buddy John Olson got his first agent within one week. Of course, it helped that he and I had an offer on the table from an editor for our novel OXYGEN. The point is, it can be done. The important thing in doing a cold submission is to find out exactly what form the agent wants the information and then give them that–no more and no less. You can find this out from their web sites. If they say they want only a query letter, then send them JUST a query letter, dadgummit! They don’t want a proposal and they don’t want the full manuscript. If they say they want only email queries with no attachments, then don’t send attachments. Writer really make themselves look bad by not giving the agent the info that they want the way they want it.

So agents don’t ignore cold submissions. They do prioritize them based on how well you followed directions and other factors, such as whether your email has drool on it, whether you carry a recommendation from one of the agent’s clients, etc. In John Olson’s case, he had a friend who was a client of the agent. The friend gave him a recommendation. Plus John had a sale in hand–that put him at Priority One for this high-powered agent, because she knew John was money in the bank.

As for how to find an agent, the BEST way is to meet them at a conference. The second best way is to do your research. That means getting WRITER’S MARKET and working through all the agent listings to find those few agents who are most likely to be interested. Then send each of them exactly what they want, and make it clear that you aren’t just spamming them with a mass mailing. Long ago when I was looking for my first agent, I picked out one who I thought would be suitable and in my query letter, I mentioned that my project was similar in spirit to CLAN OF THE CAVE BEAR–which was a novel she had represented. That told her I’d done my homework and she requested a chapter and later the whole manuscript. She didn’t take me on as a client, but that was because my writing wasn’t quite up to snuff yet.

Paulette wrote:

I enjoyed this very much because I have run into a couple of rude agents and it left me wondering why I spent all my hard earned money to go to a conference to meet up with these types. A good lesson on forgiveness and the realization that there are all types in the writing business. I imagine the poor people were tired and frustrated by the time I got to the appointment.

Randy sez: Yes, there are rude agents, rude editors, and even (gasp!) rude writers. There have been times when I’ve undoubtedly been rude. I try not to, but it happens.

Sally wrote:

At what point would an agent be willing to talk about representing you? Does that happen at the conference, or later? Does the agent contact you, or wait until you contact them?

Randy sez: Occasionally, this might happen at a conference. It’s rare, but it could happen. Generally, that would be if you come with an awesome recommendation from somebody the agent respects AND if your writing is simply extraordinary AND if the agent believes you’re the Next Big Cheese. Otherwise, it will typically take a few weeks or months. The agent will want to see your stuff. They may want to read your whole manuscript.

If the agent requests that you send more stuff after the conference, send exactly what they asked for. Once you’ve done that, the ball is in the agent’s court. It may be there days, weeks, months, or forever. It’s a good idea to ask early on what sort of response time you should expect. Then if that time gets exceeded, you can shoot a quick email asking for an update. Be aware that most agents get enormous amounts of email and so shorter is better when dealing with them. If they can read your email in a minute and respond in a minute, they might well do so.

Bonnie had a great comment which I hope you’ve all read. I’ll quote the last couple of paragraphs here:

Agents take on work they love and know they can sell, but they also take on the author. Most agents go above and beyond the call of duty for their authors, working all sorts of hours and offering all sorts of support. Ideally, they want to work with authors who understand, respect them, and can work with them.

Take home: Look for an agent you believe is a good fit. You, the agent, and your career will benefit.

Randy sez: This is all very true. Agents now fill much of the role that editors used to. Editors depend on agents to screen out all the crap and only acquire authors that are ready to be published. So editors no longer get so much stuff on their desk. The agents get it all. It can be murder to sort through it all. So take pity on the agents and help them help you.

Patricia wrote:

1) Do agents always offer a time period in which to get back to them? What if you felt right away that you couldn’t do it in that time? Would suggesting a slightly longer time period cast you in a negative light?

2) Isn’t another possibility that the agent doesn’t like the premise at all? (I’m betting not everything Tom Clancy proposed was accepted.) How would the agent say this and how should the author react? Should the author be prepared with other ideas?

Randy sez: Agents operate in different ways and so not all of them will give you a timeline. If they ask you to send something by a certain date and you know you can’t do it, ask for a longer time period and give a good reason. One common reason is, “I learned so much at this conference that I want to apply it all to my manuscript before I send it to you.”

It is VERY likely that the agent won’t like the premise and will Just Say No. (I once heard that Tom Clancy had never been rejected, but Tom’s a singular case. Most authors are.) How an agent would phrase this tragic truth depends on the agent. Some might be rude. Some might be overly kind. A lot depends on why they don’t like it. If the writing’s wretched, then frankly, the author has wasted the agent’s time, and the agent might be a bit more abrasive. If the writing’s good but it just isn’t the right genre for the agent, again the author has wasted the agent’s time, because most agents specialize. It’s a good idea to do your homework and find out what agents like your genre. If Clancy had submitted his work to an agent specializing in romance, then he’d have had a sure-fire rejection.

As for being prepared with other ideas, that would be rare. Authors generally only write one book at a time. If you come in with multiple ideas, it might look like you are “all hat and no horse” or whatever the Texans say about people who talk a lot and don’t execute.

OK, I’ll answer more questions tomorrow. I’ve still got some good ones in the hopper, I think.

My last blog post featured a very long example appointment with an agent. In it, I pretended to be Tom Clancy pitching his first novel, THE HUNT FOR RED OCTOBER, to agent Chip MacGregor.

Since that post, I’ve been on a week-long “work break” in which I focused on actually getting some work done. Gotta pay that pesky mortgage! That was pretty successful, so I’ve got time this week to blog again.

Krista asked:

Is it ok to do the whole copout of “this is my first time… sorry if I’m a bit rusty” at the beginning? I think it is leading try to get reassurance and help starting from the agent, but I’m sure if we thought of a better lead in we would look a bit more professional.

Randy sez: It’s OK to do it, but only if it really is the first time you’ve had an appointment. I don’t think I could get away with that now. My opinion is that it’s always best to be honest about who you are and where you are in the process. The agent will figure it out soon enough anyway, but you’ll score a point for having some sort of self-awareness. I strongly suspect that editors and agents don’t much respect delusional authors.

Tim wrote:

I am a bit of a wander when it comes to my writing. I actually call myself a story teller because I have great confidence in crafting a story, I am working on the writing part. Anyway, when I start talking about my novel series I go on forever, any suggestions to help stay on track when talking with anyone, especially an agent or editor?

Randy sez: Well, if your natural talent is to spin out a story, then that’s going to come out in the interview. (That’s definitely not my natural talent.) However, be aware that the editor or agent is not going to want that right away. Like Chip said in the interview, they’re going to want the big-picture first. So it would be wise for you to prepare a one-sentence summary and a one-paragraph summary in advance.

If you go in with those and get some interest, then is the time to pull out your storytelling skills. (If you get a big yawn instead, then quite honestly, the interview is over already, no matter how good of a storyteller you are, so be prepared to discuss Them Damn Yankees or Those Crazy Politicians or whatever direction the small talk will inevitably take when your editor/agent realizes that your story just isn’t for him.)

Remember that if the editor or agent doesn’t like the story, it’s not necessarily a statement about the story. It’s a statement about them. As an example, I’m told that GONE WITH THE WIND is a great story. I’ve read it and have not been able to confirm this claim. The story just didn’t interest me. If I were an editor I would turn it down, because I wouldn’t have the enthusiasm to edit the beast. I’d leave it for somebody who likes that sort of thing. Whereas I’d ask to see the full manuscript of a DIE HARD-type novel. Exploding helicopters simply work better for me than exploding corsets.

Carrie asked:

In my public speaking class, we always made notes of the highlights on index cards and used that to stay on track and on time. Would an agent or editor be offended if you had note cards for the interview?

Randy sez: Any editor or agent who would be offended by note cards is the wrong person for you. If I sat down with an editor and I needed note cards, I’d start out by saying, “I’m a writer, not a fast-talker, so I hope you don’t mind if I have a few notes to help keep me on track.”

Most editors would appreciate that:
a) You have enough self-awareness to know your strengths and weaknesses.
b) You have the social skills to turn a liability into an asset.
c) You came prepared to get down to business and have done your best to not waste their time.

That’s all for today! I’m heading out the door shortly to grab a couple of filing cabinets from Craig’s List. I really don’t enjoy doing organizational stuff, but it’s definitely time to get more space to keep all that paper out of sight. My current filing cabinets are half-height (and full) and I’ve decided to switch to full-height ones that will hold more stuff with a smaller footprint.

I expect that I will be exceptionally crabby for the next day or two while I rearrange my office.

We’ve been talking lately about what it’s like to meet at a writing conference with a real live editor or agent. This may be the most terrifying 15 minutes of a writer’s life, but you either face down your fears and do it or you don’t.

I asked my friend, uber-agent Chip MacGregor, recently to do a role-playing interview with me. I’d play the part of Tom Clancy pitching his first novel at a writing conference. As I understand it, Tom was a life-insurance salesman at the time and spent years writing his novel THE HUNT FOR RED OCTOBER. So I’ll pretend I’m him (but I’m keeping my own name in this interview for clarity) and Chip will play the role of an agent.

This will be a “cold interview.” The author has signed up for 15 minutes with the agent, but they haven’t met until now. The agent has no information about the author and knows nothing about the book. This is probably the scariest kind of interview you can have.

Here’s the transcript of the interview we did.

Randy: Hi, Chip.

Chip: Hello Randy. Nice to meet you.

Randy: To be honest, I’ve never pitched a novel before so I’m a little green right now.

Chip: That’s okay. Why don’t you just tell me what it is you’ve written.

Randy: OK, it’s a military thriller about a Soviet sub captain who decides to hand over the latest Russian sub to the Americans.

Chip: So this is a novel?

Randy: Right.

Chip: Okay. And you have a background with subs or the US Navy?

Randy: Well, no. I’m an insurance salesman. But I have a lot of friends in the Navy. We do a lot of role-playing military war games.

Chip: Okay. That’s fine. Tell me a bit more about your story.

Randy: I guess I should start with motive, right? Because it’s a little implausible unless you understand why a Russian sub commander would do this.

Chip: This is your 15 minutes, Randy. You can start wherever you feel comfortable.

Randy: OK, good. Here’s the thing: The Russian commander is actually a Lithuanian. So right there, you have an outsider. Secondly he was married to a great woman who got appendicitis. She went to a Soviet hospital and an idiot surgeon took out her appendix and gave her an infection. Then they gave her Soviet made antibiotics which were useless. So she died. So our sub commander hates the Soviet system. That’s his motivation.

Chip: Um… wait a minute. Too many details. Pretend you’re a helicopter, flying over the big picture. You’ve got a Lithuanian guy who is captaining a Russian sub, right? And, as I understand, he wants to get back at them — exact some revenge. That it so far?

Randy: Right.

Chip: Okay. What’s the wife got to do with the story?

Randy: Well, she’s now dead, and the sub commander blames the Soviet system. So he wants revenge the only way he can get it–by handing over a prize intelligence plum to the Americans.

Chip: Okay. That’s an interesting premise.

Randy: But the catch here is that he wants to hand it over to the Americans without the Russians knowing it.

Chip: All right. I think I’ve got your basic premise. How does your story start?

Randy: The sub commander kills the political officer in his office just after the sub has left on its maiden voyage. The political officer is a useless guy who isn’t in on the plot. The rest of the officers on the ship ARE in on the plot. They’re all disaffected and want out of the Soviet system too.

Chip: All right. So the sub captain is a dissident, and he’s gathered around him a bunch of other dissidents to help him defect?

Randy: Right. But they also have a large number of young enlisted men onboard who know nothing about the plot.

Chip: Okay, so they’ve got to do this in secret somehow.

Randy: Right. They have to find a way to hand over the sub, defect to the Americans, get the enlisted boys back home to Russia, and keep the Soviet military from knowing that the Americans have the boat.

Chip: You’ve got a military thriller planned. So the audience is basically male.

Randy: Right. There are of course some women who like this kind of story, but the target reader is a guy who believes in the military and isn’t ashamed to have America flex its muscles. It’s not for the politically correct crowd, Chip. This is for middle America.

Chip: Okay. Just so you know, right now it’s a tough time to be selling men’s fiction.

Randy: Hmmm, why’s that?

Chip: Just the market at play. How many words is the book?

Randy: About 100,000.

Chip: Is it completed?

Randy: Yes, and I’ve edited it a couple of times. It’s about as polished as I can make it.

Chip: Good. Has anyone else read it? I mean, have you had an editor take a look at it, or run it by your critique group?

Randy: I don’t have a critique group or an editor. My wife worked over the grammar. But I did have five of my Navy friends read it and they helped me fix a TON of little details. It’s about as accurate as I can make it.

Chip: Okay. May I take a look at the first couple of pages?

Randy: Right here.

Chip: (Reading) Great. As I’m looking this over, tell me something… what are your expectations of this meeting? I mean, we have a few minutes together. Are you expecting to find a publishing deal? to have me respond to your words? to talk about the market? what?

Randy: Well, I don’t have an agent yet and I’d like to know if you’re interested in working with me on this project to find a publisher.

Chip: All right. I just want to be clear as to what you were expecting. (Continues reading the first two pages.)

Randy: Right.

Chip: Hey — that’s good work. A good opening. I liked it.

Randy: Really? Wow, that’s great to hear. I’ve never done this before, so I’m a little nervous right now.

Chip: That’s okay, we’re just talking here, Randy. May I share a few thoughts about this with you?

Randy: Sure.

Chip: All right. I like your basic premise. It sounds like it has the makings of a good story. I just had a couple minutes to read your words, so this isn’t exactly a detailed response but I thought your opening was strong. To do it justice, I’d need to read more. Let me talk about your expectation for a moment…

Randy: OK.

Chip: Here’s the thing: we’ve just met. I think this has some merit, and I’d be willing to look at more of it. But you’re probably not going to walk into a 15 minute appointment and sign with an agent…

Randy: Right.

Chip: in fact, an agent who would sign you up with nothing more than a cursory look at your work probably is a bit too eager anyway.

Randy: You’d be surprised how many people buy life insurance after a 15 minute talk.

Chip: So let me suggest a couple things to you… First, we’re about out of time. I thought this was a good start. I’d be willing to see more… If you’d like, I’ll invite you to send me the entire thing and I’ll read over it. Second, while we’re here at the conference, I’m going to ask you to do a couple things…

Randy: OK.

Chip: I’m going to suggest you attend the workshops that deal with thrillers, characterization, and dialogue. Take a look at the listings and you’ll find them… Next, I’ll ask you to go over this with a couple things in mind — ACTION and DIALOGUE. A novel like this is built on those two pillars. I just want you to go over this…

Randy: (writing) Action and Dialogue.

Chip: …and make sure your book focuses on ACTION and DIALOGUE. This is the sort of story that will need to keep people turning the pages. So you’ve got to make sure there is genuine movement…

Randy: Right.

Chip: …from one paragraph to the next. No stopping to catch your breath. No waiting while you offer a bunch of cool description. It’s got to be move - move - move. Always pushing me forward.

Randy: OK, I’ll work on that.

Chip: You might also want to think about how you start and end chapters. Does the first sentence grab me? Does the end of the chapter make me have to turn the page and go to the NEXT chapter?

Randy: Yeah, that’s one thing my wife hammered on me about.

Chip: Okay. Look, we’re about out of time. Is there anything you’d like to ask me?

Randy: Just one thing: what should I do next? Revise it? Send it to you? I’m a little clueless here.

Chip: That’s okay. Like I said, attend some of the workshops here at the conference, and see if there’s good information you can take and use. Then go home and look over your work — especially the first two or three chapters. Does is start strong? End strong? Action and dialogue? Keep me turning pages? Do some evaluation. Then, if you think it’s as strong as it can be, email it to me. Here’s my card. Just reference the conference in the subject line, so I know it’s not a cold submission.

Randy: OK, I’ll do that and get it to you within the next few weeks. Thanks a lot! I really enjoyed this, even though I was scared to death coming in.

Chip: Well, you did great. Tell you what — today is the 14th. Why don’t you plan to have it to me by the end of the month? That gives you two weeks to do any last revisions, then get it to me.

Randy: OK, I’ll get it done.

Chip: Great. Nice to meet you. Appreciated seeing your work.

Randy: Thanks.

[End of interview.]

Randy sez: This interview went about the way I expected. I played a novice writer with a strong storyline. Let’s look at some of the main features of the interview:

1) I gave Chip a good one-sentence summary of my novel, but I forgot to start off telling Chip that this IS a novel. I just assumed he knew. But in a cold interview, the editor/agent knows NOTHING about the author. So I had him a little confused. Chip represents both fiction and nonfiction, and he sees all sorts of both. I’ll bet he also sees a lot of stuff that is unclassifiable. So he asked me to clarify. A good agent will ask for clarifications quickly.

2) As soon as he knew the genre, Chip asked about my qualifications–am I a Navy guy? Normally in fiction, qualifications aren’t that important, but in a military novel, it might be important. So he asked. Tom Clancy, if I remember correctly from an article I read by him many years ago, had never been on a sub before he wrote THE HUNT FOR RED OCTOBER. But he had talked to plenty of people who had. And he’d done a lot of war gaming. That was his strong suit.

3) Once I started explaining the story, I started rambling. This is common, even for experienced novelists. We want to get into details. The agent just wants the big picture. Chip let me go on for a bit, then asked me for clarification. Notice that he synthesized the story and fed it back to me to make sure he had it right.

4) Chip quickly saw that this is a good story premise. So he asked me a bit about the target audience. This is a book aimed at men who like exploding helicopters. Then he made sure that I had a realistic understanding about the marketability of the book. It won’t be as easy to sell as certain other kinds of fiction. He wanted to set my expectations.

5) Next, Chip wanted to know where I am in the process. (Freshman, sophomore, junior, or senior.) Was the book done or just a pipe dream? How long is it? Who’s seen it? The answers to these questions will tell him a lot more than if I’d told him, “Chip, I’m a senior.”

6) Chip also asked about my expectations for the meeting. The reason is that writers come into these meetings with all sorts of expectations, some realistic, some not. Some writers want validation or a critique. Some want a contract RIGHT NOW. Some don’t know what they want. In my case, the book was done and I believed it was ready to publish. So I didn’t put on false humility and just say I wanted a critique. I didn’t. I wanted an agent to help me sell it. But a meeting like this is of course just the first step of several. It would be very rare to get an offer of representation from an agent after one 15 minute meeting. Most agents would want to read more of the manuscript, probably all of it, before taking on a client. Especially an unpublished client.

7) Notice that Chip gave me some valuable advice that I could use, even if he never takes me on as a client. He knew that for this genre, the author needs to hone his craft in Action and Dialogue. So he advised me to take any workshops at the conference that focus on those. And he also told me to read through my manuscript and revise it as needed.

Finally, Chip invited me to send him the manuscript–but only after I think it’s as strong as it could be. He also gave me a deadline to do it. You’d be amazed how many writers get a request for a manuscript from an editor or an agent at a conference and then NEVER send them anything. It happens all the time.

Of course, there might have been other endings to this story:

* Chip might have told me, “Sorry, there’s no market for this kind of thing right now.” Notice that a response like that says NOTHING about the quality of the writing. It says only that (in his opinion, which might well be wrong), he can’t sell a book like this right now.

* He might have said, “I like the premise, but I think you need to work on your craft a bit. You’re not there yet.” This is a very painful answer to hear. How can an agent make that kind of decision based on only 2 pages of manuscript? Easy. 2 pages is more than enough to tell whether a writer has decent craft. One paragraph is usually enough to tell whether the writer has brilliant craft.

* A very rare response could have been, “Tell you what… this is REALLY good. I’d be interested in this. Um… I’d appreciate it if you didn’t show this around.” You shouldn’t count on hearing this, but if you do, either the agent is taking some drugs he shouldn’t be taking, or . . . you have a great career ahead of you.

The actual ending of the interview is the most plausible one for this particular manuscript. It’s a strong story premise, but the writing is not luminous literary artistry. The agent would really need to read a couple of hundred pages to know that this book is going to be a blockbuster.

OK, any questions on these appointments with editors/agents? Leave a comment and I’ll answer them as I can.

I’m scanning through the recent comments here on my blog looking for any questions I still haven’t answered yet. We’ve been discussing writing conferences for a while now.

Tim asked:

How would I go about making an appointment with an editor to get feedback on my manuscript?

Randy sez: That depends on the conference. Different conferences run things differently. Here are several different ways that I’ve seen it done:

1) You presubmit your proposal or sample chapters to the editor of your choice, usually by mailing it in before the conference. Usually you get to choose which editor, but there is always a chance that it’ll get redirected to someone else. When this happens, the ball is in the editor’s court. If they like what they see, then they’ll ask to meet you. If you get an appointment this way, you are already on first base, because the editor likes your work enough to want to meet you.

2) You sign up in advance (or very early in the conference) for a particular time-slot with a particular editor. In this case, the ball is more in your court, since you get to choose and the editor really can’t say no to the appointment. However, there are no guarantees that the editor will be remotely interested. You can make your pitch, but it COULD happen that the editor realizes within 10 seconds that you aren’t at all a good fit for her or her publishing house. In that case, the remaining 14 minutes and 50 seconds can be a very long time.

3) You catch the editor informally early in the conference and ask for an appointment. The editor can say yes or no. If she’s extremely busy, she’ll likely want a reason why she should meet with you, so be prepared to make a 5 second spiel on why. Do NOT drag on for even 20 seconds on this! If the editor’s not terribly busy, she may have time without needing a reason.

4) You eat dinner with the editor and she asks everyone at the table, “So tell me what you’re writing.” You are prepared with a good one-sentence summary and can answer questions for a couple of minutes in a way that sounds interesting. Then the editor might well ask you for an appointment. (Or not–this doesn’t happen all that often, but I’ve seen it happen.)

5) You meet a writer who asks what you’re working on. The writer offers to read a bit of your work and then says, “You have GOT to meet Mr. Bigshot Agent or Ms. Biggershot Editor. They’re right over there. Let me introduce you right now.”

I have had appointments with editors using all of these methods. At first, any of them would have been incredibly traumatic. It’s gotten a lot easier over the years. I long ago realized that editors and agents are (almost always) incredibly interesting and fun people. (You are not allowed to ask me who the exceptions were.)

I’ve finally finished off this month’s edition of the Advanced Fiction Writing E-zine and sent it out, so I thought I’d do a quick blog while I still have brain cells left. I’ve been blogging lately about writing conferences and have now answered a TON of questions. I emailed uber-agent Chip MacGregor a couple of days ago to see if he’d be willing to do a little role-playing with me on a “typical” pitch for a novel. I’ll be pretending to be Tom Clancy pitching my first novel, A HUNT FOR RED OCTOBER. We’ll do that next week sometime, so watch for it.

In the meantime, I’d like to answer more questions my loyal blog readers have posted about conferences. I deferred this one from Susan last time I blogged:

Question: Is the one-sheet usually written in first or third person?

Randy sez: I asked Meredith Efken for her opinion, and she said she thinks third person looks better.

I’ll confess that I’m not quite sure where I was in the lineup of questions that my loyal blog readers have submitted. I think the next question is this one, from Sally:

At what point do you begin to see a payoff from going to conferences? I’ve been to several, but feel I can’t swing the cost this year. Is it better to attend the same ones every year, so that you are a familiar face, or to try different ones to meet more people?

Randy sez: This is a little like asking when you’ll see a payoff from dating. You might meet Mr. Right on the first date, but you might not meet him until the four hundredth. There’s a bit of luck involved, but in some sense, you make your own luck. You simply never know when it’ll happen, and that’s what makes the Publishing Game every bit as scary and infuriating as the Dating Game.

I’ve said this many times: life isn’t fair. I don’t know how to make it fair. But here’s what I know. When I started writing, I went to a mid-sized regional one-day conference every year for 8 years. Nothing happened. I had some close calls with success, but never won the prize. Then I decided to start going to a larger national five-day conference every year. I committed myself to going to that same large conference every year until I got published.

The first year I met my buddy John Olson and made some friends.

The second year I made many more friends and watched as John came THAT close to selling a series of novels to a major publisher. Meanwhile, I generated no interest at all from the editors, although a couple of published writers did tell me my writing was good.

The third year, I made even more friends, including one who helped me make the vital connections I needed to sell my first (nonfiction) book. A few months later, I also sold my first novel.

The fourth year, I made many more friends and won the Writer of the Year award. That same year, John and I pitched an idea for a Mars novel to an editor there whom we’d been seeing for the past several years and who now knew we were in this for the long haul. Ultimately, we sold that book.

The fifth year, my first two books were finally available and I had actual factual books in the bookstore. That was the year I felt like a real author–when I had books I could hold in my hands.

Most of the above would never have happened if I’d stuck to my original habit of going to a small regional one-day conference every year. But NONE of it would have happened without the years and years I spent alone in my office typing on my computer and developing the skills I needed.

Writing fiction is a terrible, lonely, crushing business with no guarantee of success. There is no way to make that fact go away. I won’t lie to y’all and pretend it’s anything else. The odds are stacked very heavily against any novelist. What I have seen is that writing conferences improve your odds very strongly, if you develop friendships with other writers and with editors and agents.

But no conference anywhere can make anything a certainty. Getting published requires talent and hard work and luck. You are born with talent. You supply the hard work. But there’s not much you can do about that pesky luck.

I am back to blogging after being gone most of last week to a writing conference. My loyal blog readers have posted a large number of very good questions about writing conferences and pitching in the last couple of weeks and I would like to answer as many of those as possible. I am answering these in the order they came in, and we still have quite a backlog.

Barbara wrote:

Hi Randy: I have a general question about pitching myself. I’ve mentioned before that I’m blind. For some of my WIPs I have blind characters. One is a police detective who has been moved to Public Relations — though she manages to keep getting involved in open cases. And some of my stories involve aspects of horror. For these types of stories, I think mentioning I’m blind might help sell the story. But, what about stories that have nothing to do with either blindness or horror; should I mention the fact I’m blind in my pitch? For instance, one story I’ve started is about SAR dogs — my husband had one so I know quite a bit about them. Should I mention my blindness in a case like this? Or simply ignore it?

Randy sez: Barbara, your instincts are good here. For stories about the blind cop, you should definitely mention that when pitching the story. It’ll make it clear that you bring an authenticity to your story that a sighted author almost certainly won’t have. I’m not entirely sure how blindness would tie in to a horror story, but if you can tie it in well, then do so. For your story about search-and-rescue dogs, the far more relevant fact that you should mention is that your husband had a SAR dog.

Susan asked:

Question: Is the one-sheet usually written in first or third person?

Randy sez: I don’t know, since I’ve never done a one-sheet. I’ll ask our guest expert Meredith Efken to respond to this question.

Lynda asked:

What should I say in a pitch? What are the editors expecting?

Randy sez: That’s a nice short question that would take a few thousand words to answer. I’m thinking that I’ll give you a short answer right now and then see if I can talk one of my agent friends into doing a couple of role-playing mock pitches, in which we show you how a typical pitch might go.

The short answer is that the editor/agent wants to answer the question: “Should I ask this author to send me a proposal?” The default answer is “No.” The editor/agent will change her mind to “Yes” if you provide the “right” answers to certain questions, which probably include the following:

* Does this author write in a genre that interests me?
* Does this author have the skills to write a strong novel?
* Can I sell this author to the publishers I work with? (An agent would ask this.)
* Can I sell this author to the niche I publish books for? (An editor would ask this.)

Please notice that these questions are only partly about you, the author. They are also partly about the editor or agent. So a “No” from that editor or agent might mean merely that you and she aren’t a good fit. Conversely, a “Yes” from that editor or agent only means, “I’ll look at it some more, but I’m still more likely than not to reject the manuscript in the end.”

In exactly the same way, when you go to a bookstore, you will probably “reject” the vast majority of books in the store. (I.e., you won’t buy them all.) In “rejecting” them, you are not saying they are all bad books. You are merely noting that you have limited time, energy, and money and you can’t buy them all. You’ll buy the one or two that pleases you most, and there will be a bit of luck involved, because you can’t evaluate all 100,000 books in the store. You just can’t. Likewise, in looking for an editor or agent, there’s a bit of luck involved. If you catch them on the right day and you happen to be the best thing going at the moment, then you have a chance.

I got home yesterday from the Oregon Christian Writers conference where I’ve been teaching all week and hanging out with writers. It was great fun, but when I got home, my brain felt like a bucket of sand.

Naturally, I did what any guy would do who needs a quick jolt of adrenaline. I watched DIE HARD. That would be the first DIE HARD, which has a very fine exploding helicopter scene. It did the job, and my mind started waking up.

This morning, I had emails from two nice ladies who were laughing out loud at my latest humor column, The Manly Guy and Christian Fiction, which talks about the critical need for more exploding helicopters and also introduces to the world the very important concept of “the Kindergarten Effect.”

I have no doubt this column will offend many people, but sadly, neither of the ladies who emailed me this morning were offended at all. One of them, Rosslyn Elliott, has already blogged about my column, under the titillating title Sex in the Christian Fiction Market.

If you are offended by my column, then please tell all your friends so they can be offended too. Feeling offended is an important American right, probably the most important right we have, so experience that feeling to the hilt.

Oh, and . . . have fun!