I haven't been sleeping well lately. I've got a lot of things on my mind - the nation's economy, my economy, the Bulls playoff chances, the White Sox playoff chances, my dog's health, the undeniable fact that I'm not the #2 pencil I used to be - just to mention a few things. But the one thing that is driving me crazy, the thing that starts the snakes squirming in my head, is trying to find a literary agent.
I've written two books in the past couple of years and am in the process of writing a third. The first one, a poker-themed novel titled "Schoolboy," I had to self-publish as an ebook because I could not find an agent to represent it. It did very well as an ebook, lingering at the top of the best seller list for more than a year. The second book is now being considered by two different agents, one who wants to give it "further consideration" and another who says it's interesting and will get back to me soon.
Athough this may sound like a promising situation, it's basically the same shit I heard about the first book, so I don't have great hopes that either one of them will take me on as a client.
The problem with trying to publish a book is that most publishers will not look at a manuscript unless it is represented by an agent. Go to the web sites of the major publishers and right there on their home pages they state, "We do not consider unagented manuscripts." In other words, no agent, no publisher.
I can understand this on an intellectual level. Publishers are deluged by manuscripts. They need some sort of screening process to weed out the bullshit from the even worse bullshit. So they use agents to do their triage work. The thinking is that if legitimate agents, who work strictly on commissions, are willing to put in their precious time trying to sell a manuscript, then there must be some value in it. After all, why would an agent waste time on something unsalable.
Despite the fact that I hate leaving my fate in someone else's hands, I had no choice but to play by their rules, So, when I finished my first book, I spent a long time sweating over a query letter and began sending it out to agents. In due time I began receiving replies, both email and postal. I had a few good responses, agents who wanted to see the first few chapters or a synopsis. The majority of responses, however, were flat-out rejections.
I haven't been shot down so much since I was a single guy trying to pick up chicks in bars.
Initially, I took the rejections in good humor. I took consolation in the fact that even the greatest writers suffered their share of rejections. After a while, though, I started getting pissed off.
It wasn't the rejections that were getting to me, it was the way I was being turned down. Some agents were clearly sympathetic to my plight, writing personal notes expressing their sincere regret that due to their heavy consumption of martinis, their long weekends in the Hamptons and their incredibly convoluted sex lives, they simply didn't have time to read my manuscript. That sort of rejection I could understand.
The agents that got my goat were the ones that waited months to respond and then replied with an automated response, like this one:
Dear Author:
Please forgive the impersonal nature of this rejection. Due to the overwhelming number of manuscripts we receive, we are simply not able to reject each author personally. This is in no way a reflection on the quality of your work. We wish you the best of luck in the future.
I immediately replied:
Dear Agent:
Please forgive the impersonal nature of this reply to your rejection. Due to the overwhelming number of rejections I receive, it is impossible to personally reply to each rejection. This is in no way a reflection on the quality of your rejection. I wish you continued success in rejecting authors in the future.
Needless to say, I did not hear from that agent again.
And then there was this snide reply to my query letter from some arrogant bastard of an agent:
Sorry, I never consider first novels. But I will say that your query letter is one of the best I've seen.
I stewed a while, then replied:
You cocksucker, if you like the query letter so much, why don't you try selling it and picking up an easy 15 percent on that.
Needless to say, I never heard from that agent again, either.
Author's Note: I don't want to give the impression that all my dealings with agents have been problematic. There have been some very kind and helpful ones, who have offered advice, referrals, and digital pats on the back. Among the good ones are Jim Fitzgerald, Steve Gregory, Henry Morrison, Laura Strachan, Jeff Kleinman and Bob Mecoy. If any of you writers out there fall into their hands, you should consider yourselves fortunate.
