Written by Chuck Rothman

Index

1. What is an agent and why do I need one?
2. When do I need an agent?
3. How are agents paid?
4. Where to I find information about agents?
5. How do I choose an agent?
6. How do I contact an agent?
7. How do I create an outline and sample chapters?
8. What happens if I don’t get an agent?

1. What is an agent and why do I need one?

   An agent is a writer’s business representative. His job is to market your book, negotiate a deal with the publisher, keep track of rights sold, and generally handle the business end of things so that the author can concentrate on writing.

   You may not need an agent. If you write poetry, or short fiction, or articles, you don’t. Agents only handle book length manuscripts — fiction and nonfiction. It’s not worth their while to handle shorter works.

   Even if you write books, you may not need an agent. There are two main advantages that an agent can offer you when it comes to marketing:

   • A good agent knows what editors are looking for. He can target your manuscript more effectively; an author has to send it out hit or miss, wasting time on editors who are overstocked and missing windows of opportunity. Generally, it will take a good agent less time to sell a manuscript than it would take if you did it yourself. However, if the agent can sell the novel, there’s a good chance you can sell it, too. Conversely, if the novel is no good, no agent is going to be able to sell it.
   • Many publishers don’t accept unagented submissions. Or, more commonly, they allow an agent to send the entire manuscript, while limiting unagented submissions to outlines and sample chapters. You’re more likely to sell if the editor reads the entire book.

   The main advantage of having an agent is not in marketing a novel; it’s when you find a publisher willing to publish it. A good agent is an expert in negotiating contracts. She knows what clauses to ask for, which are harmless boilerplate, and which seemingly innocuous ones are invitations to disaster. A good agent will know how to get you the best possible deal. Unless you are in the publishing industry, it’s unlikely you’ll be able to negotiate a contract that gets you the most money possible while protecting all your rights.

   (Some people think that a lawyer can replace an agent when it comes to this. However, few lawyers specialize in the type of contracts publishers use. In the words of editor Patrick Nielsen Hayden of Tor Books, every time an author used a lawyer to negotiate with Tor, the author was left “skinned and bleeding.”)

2. When do I need an agent?

   The first thing you need to do is write a book-length manuscript. Unless you have the book in hand, an agent won’t be interested. He needs something he can see; without a manuscript, there’s no knowing if you can write anything that’s worth the agent’s time to try to sell.

   When the manuscript is done, you can start contacting agents. But don’t let the search for the agent get in the way of your search for a publisher. You’re perfectly welcome to start marketing the book yourself, if you want. It’s up to you.

   If you do send the book out, and get a call from the publisher that they’re interested, this is the perfect time to find an agent. Indeed, some publishers will even recommend you get an agent before there’s any negotiation; they’d much rather deal with a professional. It’s said that, if you do get the call from a publisher, you automatically say, “I’ll have my agent contact you” — whether you have an agent or not. If you call agents and tell them about the offer, they will often jump at the chance to take you on. After all, it’s a quick way for them to make a buck. The hardest part has been done; all they have to do is negotiate a contract, which means they (and you) will be paid in a couple of months, not several years.

3. How are agents paid?

   Agents are paid by publishers. Usually, when they sell your book, the check is written out to the agent. The agent then takes his percentage of this amount and sends you the remainder. Most literary agents nowadays take 15% of any money paid you; a few still stick with the old rate of 10%. (Screenplay agents are required to only charge 10%.) If the agent sells your book to a non-North-American publisher, they usually take 20%, since they often work through a subagent.

   Some agents also pass through charges for expenses to their authors. This can happen in different ways. Most commonly, an agent will pass along charges for “extraordinary” expenses. These include charges for such things as Express Mail, Special Couriers, and other items that are not the usual part of doing business. Regular postage and copying costs are not extraordinary. Agents generally deduct these expenses from any money due you. In other words, if you’re paid $1000 for your novel, and the agent spent an extra $15 for Federal Express, you’d be paid $835 instead of $850.

4. Where to I find information about agents?

   There are many sources, of varying degrees of reliability. The best is to ask a published writer about her agent. If the writer likes the agent, ask if the agent is taking clients. If so, contact the agent.

   Writer’s Market and Literary Market Place list agents in their yearly volume. Check out the agent entries, looking for people who represent authors in your field of writing. Look for names of clients and recent sales.

   You can find ads for agents in Writer’s Digest. However, many of these are for sham agents who take money and do little to advance your career. I would strongly urge you to look elsewhere. Good agents don’t take out ads to find clients.

5. How do I choose an agent?

   This is the hardest question to answer. Anyone can call herself an agent. Scams are common; the pages of Writer’s Digest are filled with people who claim to be literary agents, but who have never sold a book in their life. Even among legitimate agents, one agent may be perfect for you, but all wrong for someone else.

   The first step is to eliminate the scams. The quickest way is to stick to one invariable rule:

   Never, under any circumstances whatsoever, pay money to an agent.

   If you follow this, you automatically eliminate the frauds. A fraud is out to get your money. A few years ago, scam agents charged “reading fees.” Lately, as word has slowly gotten out that this is the sure sign of a ripoff, the same agents are charging for “expenses.” Sound plausible, but the reality is that legitimate agents don’t ask for money in advance for any reason.

   If you send money to an agent in advance, there’s no guarantee she’ll do anything other than cash your check. A legitimate agent doesn’t get paid unless she sells your novel; a fraud isn’t going to go to the bother.

   Other signs to be wary of:

   • Agent asks you for money up front. Yes, I know I just said this, but it bears repeating. Do not pay any agent, and especially don’t pay anything in advance merely to have him represent you.
   • Agent won’t give you the names of his clients and recent sales. Always ask for this. A legitimate agent is all too happy to recount his successes; most send out press releases whenever they sell a book. A fraud won’t tell you (usually citing “confidentiality”), because it gives you a handle to track him down (and because he often has no recent sales).
   • Agent recommends an editorial service. Be very wary here. Real agents either like your manuscript or pass on it; if it’s close, they may ask you to revise it yourself. There is, however, a common scam where the agent recommends an editorial service. There’s a good chance the service is paying the agent a kickback to make that recommendation. (Note: probably the most notorious of these editorial services is a place called Edit Ink. Don’t even consider any agent who mentions Edit Ink.)
   • Agent has contacted you. Agents don’t need to go out of their way to find clients. But it’s quite common for frauds to buy mailing lists of writers and go fishing. Unless you have published something, or otherwise have a reputation as a writer, no real agent is going to contact you out of the blue.
   • Agent’s contract has a time limit. Agents used to work on a handshake basis, but nowadays even good agents often have contracts. But legitimate agency contracts are open ended: the continue until either party decides to quit. Frauds set a time limit, since this allows them to ask you for a further fee for “expenses” or “representation.”
   • Agent claims sales to a vanity press. A vanity press is one where the author pays to be published. No real agent would even consider sending a manuscript to one (how could they make any money, if the publisher isn’t going to pay?). Some agents do recommend vanity presses, most likely because they are getting kickback from the press (how else do they get paid?)
   • Agent asks you to put up your money in advance. What I tell you three times is true.

   If an agent does any of these things, go somewhere else. There is little chance any agent who has these policies will be any help at all to you, and could do great damage to your career — with you paying for the privilege of having them ruin you. It’s just not worth it.

   For more information about how agents work, check out this article by Dan Perez.

6. How do I contact an agent?

   Once past this hurdle, the question becomes one of nuances. Does the agent seem interested in having you as a client? Does she have some sort of vision for your career? What do her other clients think of her?

   Most agents do business by mail (a few by e-mail). The first thing to do is to send a query letter. The query letter should introduce you to the agent. Explain that you are looking for representation for your completed book. Describe the book in general terms (i.e., it’s a science fiction novel), but don’t summarize the plot. Mention any publishing history (if you have one, if not, say nothing) or any background information that might indicate a relevant area of expertise (if there’s nothing directly relevant, leave this out, too). Keep the query letter short (if it’s more than one page, it’s way too long). Be sure to include a self-addressed stamped envelope for a reply. Send it off.

   A question that crops up is whether you can query several agents at a time. It all depends on what you’re comfortable with. It’s generally acceptable to send off multiple query letters, so if you want to go that way, do so. However, once an agent asks to see your manuscript (or more likely, sample chapters and an outline), you should send it to that agent alone, and to none other until he says yes or no. If you get a second request, wait until you hear back from the first agent before sending it along (it isn’t necessary to tell the second agent it’s out somewhere. Just say nothing until you’re ready to send it to her).

   Incidentally, your agent hunt can be separate from the hunt for a publisher. You can send the book out to editors while agents are deciding; if the book sells, call the agent who is currently considering it. Note, however, that an agent often wants to market the book from scratch, and has a slight preference toward a book that has yet to be rejected.

7. How do I create an outline and sample chapters?

   These are essential to selling a novel. Most agents (and publishers) want to see these instead of a full manuscript (note: if at all possible, it’s best to find a way to send a full manuscript. But be careful: doing this when the agency/publisher doesn’t allow it may mean that your book will not be read. You can break this rule, but be prepared to suffer the consequences).

   The sample chapters are always the first chapters of the book. Usually the first three, but if you’re writing extremely short chapters, send the first 50-60 pages (don’t stop in the middle of a chapter). The idea is to give the editor/agent an idea of your ability to write.

   An outline runs around 20 pages and describes the action in the book. It is usually written in the present tense (our hero kills off all the soldiers, but the princess is kidnapped by the Grand Vizier). Include any particularly important lines of dialog and all important scenes as you lay out the plot and all subplots.

   Some agents prefer a synopsis to an outline. This is shorter (5 pages) and is more of an overview. Needless to say, either your outline or your synopsis must be well written and interesting.

8. What happens if I don’t get an agent?

   There’s no reason you can’t market your novel yourself. There are a few hurdles, but it’s eminently possible. It isn’t the end of your career, so just keep on plugging. Sooner or later, it will click for you.

—

Chuck Rothman has been writing SF since way back in the previous century, with stories in Asimov’s, F&SF, Realms of Fantasy, the current issue of Space and Time, and dozens of other magazines, some of which are still publishing.  He lives in Schenectady with his wife, poet Susan Noe Rothman, daughter Lisa (just back from the Peace Corps), and cat Lightning.  He is looking for an agent.

Becca asked an interesting question about exclusives in the comments section of a post a few days ago, and it occurred to me that I’d never really blogged about these slippery devils. So consider this niche filled, and the FAQs will be amended accordingly.

First off, definition: an exclusive means just what it sounds like. You are giving an agent the opportunity to consider your work exclusively and you are agreeing that you will not submit to another agent until you’ve heard “yea” or “nay” from that agent. Sometimes exclusives are open-ended, sometimes there’s a time period attached.

Feelings about exclusives vary wildly among agents, so please take my feelings as my own and not as any kind of industry standard. There is no standard when it comes to exclusives. It’s a veritable Wild West run by nonconformist anarchists.

I’m going to break down my thoughts on exclusives based on the different stages when they might arise and give you some dos and don’ts along the way:

Query stage: Agents expect that you’re querying simultaneously and widely, and frankly, if they don’t, they should. If you’re querying agents one-by-one I hope you plan to live as long as Methuselah because that’s how long you’re going to be querying. Remember to target your agent search, personalize your queries, and don’t query the entire agent world all at once, but also don’t needlessly slow down your search by waiting on exclusive queries.

Now, you might give your first-pick agent first crack, say…. oh, I don’t know, a certain agent who will get back to you within 24 hours if you submit on a weekday, and you might mention that you’re querying them first, but mentioning that it’s an exclusive is not necessary, and don’t give them forever to get back to you before you move on to the other agents you plan to query.

Partial or full manuscript request stage: Some agents will ask you for an exclusive when they ask for your partial or full. Whether you choose to grant this is up to you, but I would strongly, strongly advise against granting an open-ended exclusive that ties you up forever. 30 days is a reasonable time period for an agent to consider a partial or full exclusively, after which you should feel free to send your manuscript to any agents who have inquired in the meantime (and keep in mind that submitting your partial exclusively does not preclude you from continuing to query other agents, although it does mean that you have to put any agents who ask for a partial on hold until the period of exclusivity is up).

You are within your rights to (politely) decline their request for an exclusive, in which case you may simply write that you would prefer to continue sending your manuscript to interested agents but hope they will still consider your work. Or you can decide to grant it. Up to you. But keep in mind a few things: 1) You can’t grant an exclusive if another agent is already considering your partial or full manuscript (and you should let the inquiring agent know this.) 2) Some agents feel that if they are going to take the time to read a manuscript they want to do so with the understanding that the author is not going to be swept away by another agent in the meantime (thus wasting the time they spent reading that partial), and they may well decline to consider your partial on a nonexclusive basis.

So when faced with an exclusive request, you have a decision to make: possibly alienate the agent or try and keep your options open? That’s a decision only you can make. No matter what you decide though, be exceedingly polite, and always notify any agent considering your work when you have an offer of representation.

Revisions: I don’t generally ask for exclusives at the partial or even full manuscript request phase. But there is one situation when I often will. And that’s during a revision.

It’s very time consuming for an agent to read partials and fulls, although I see it as going with the territory. But a revision with a prospective client takes time-consuming to a whole new level. It means a serious commitment on the part of the agent without a sure prospect of success, it means committing to reading a manuscript multiple times, taking notes, thinking about the manuscript during most waking hours, and for me it means writing 10-20 page e-mails full of suggestions on each draft.

I don’t know if there would be anything more gut-wrenching than to embark on a time-consuming revision to improve the manuscript only to have an author take that improved manuscript to a different agent who gets to benefit from my hours of hard work. Quel horreur! The mere thought of this happening gives me dry heaves.

Fortunately this hasn’t actually happened to me, but just to make sure we’re all clear what a full manuscript revision means, I often ask for an exclusive before embarking on a revision, and I think this is fair. When the author is done, if either of us aren’t happy with the manuscript or how we’ve worked together in the process then we’re still free to go our separate ways, but while we’re working on that revision we’re going steady, pinning each other, and any other serious dating metaphor you can find. If we are happy with the manuscript at the end, then it’s time to move on to formal representation and submissions.

Ultimately, the thing to remember about exclusives is that agents mainly ask for them for peace of mind and efficiency. Agents are busy and they want to know that when they are reading something they don’t have to worry about having an author swept out from under them and having that time wasted. But they aren’t always advantageous for an author because they can limit an author’s choice and stall the process.

Be selective about how you grant exclusives, and make sure there’s a time limit affixed.

I managed to get my first agent before I sold my first novel. Having an agent generally doesn’t affect the odds of sale, but it does hasten the process of finding out, so if your first novel is complete and unsold, you might consider this approach.

This article contains the text of the cover letter I sent to an agent, the letter that resulted in representation for my first novel. Following the query letter is the sales synopsis I sent with the novel, a synopsis that helped result in a first novel sale (about one year later). The synopsis is patterned after the one Dean Koontz used in Writing Popular Fiction. Comments not actually part of the submission are shown in <this manner>. The title of the novel, as submitted, was Time Waves. The title Ace wanted to use for publication was the title I had used in earlier drafts: Scapescope. The only information “sanitized” is my address/phone and the agent’s name/info. Scapescope, a kind of humorous take on 1984, was published by Ace in November 1984.

John E. Stith
my street address
City, State Zip
10 October 1982
Phone: (xyz) 123-4567
(Collect OK)

Agent
Agency name
street address
New York, NY ZIP

Dear Mx. ______:

I have completed a science fiction novel, entitled Time Waves, and I would like to know if you might be interested in representing me.

<KEY POINT: the novel is complete; if you’re trying to sell your first novel as a partial, you’ll need more luck than I’ve had.>

The novel is approximately 62,000 words long. It opens in 2147 with a protagonist who learns, with the aid of a device that yields limited information about the future, that he is soon to be listed on the government’s known political criminal list. The second half of the novel is set in the NORAD Cheyenne Mountain Complex, one of my former places of employment.

If there is any more information you require (e.g. a detailed outline, sample chapters, or the entire manuscript), I will be happy to provide it promptly.

I have sold about ten science fiction stories to markets including Amazing, Fantastic, and Spectrum, but Time Waves is my first novel. I’m a member of Science Fiction Writers of America.

<KEY POINT: I believe having professional fiction credits significantly raises the odds of getting a positive response.>

If you’re reluctant to take me on, could you please tell me whether or not you might be interested in representing me if I come to you with a publisher who is ready to purchase the novel?

For your convenience, an SASE is enclosed. Thank you for your time and attention.

Sincerely,

Signed: John E. Stith

<header for pages _after_ page 1>

Stith Time Waves Synopsis Page #

John E. Stith
my street address
City, State Zip
Phone: (xyz) 123-4567

<text from here on was double-spaced>

The date is 2147 A.D. The location is Earth. Comparatively superficial improvements have been made in several aspects of the human condition, including energy resources and the population growth rate. Population density is critically high. With the introduction of the scapescope in 2130, fundamental attitudes have begun to change.

The scapescope is a device that provides glimpses of the future. Since so many divergent futures exist, images farther into the future than a few seconds are blurred, so a policy of summarizing significant events in a predictable format enables people to learn about future events by viewing the information displayed in the form of alphanumeric text on a screen. Events in the immediate future can be viewed with high clarity, but the observer is limited to viewing six months in the future. The clarity of the image is greatest when an event is probable and soon. Events that are less probable, or nearer to the six-month limit, are hazy or not visible at all.

The primary impact of the device is that the human race is becoming nearsighted. Projects with significant chances for failure are not undertaken. Mankind is losing the ability to gain knowledge and maturity via occasional wrong turns and serendipity.

The protagonist is Mike Cavantalo, a photonics engineer and futurist, working for the government. At the time the novel starts, he has not yet questioned the long-term effects of scapescope.

He meets Lisa Ryan, a member of a secret group working outside the government on a solution to the problems created by scapescope.

The overall theme of the novel is that one makes one’s own future; predestination is a myth. Moreover, the frequently aggrandized ability to foresee the future may actually make the human race lazy and less capable of dealing with the future.

The tone of the book is one of underlying humor and hopefulness. It is intended to be a fast-paced adventure, illustrating our ability to make mistakes and then take the required action to correct them, learning in the process.

The story opens with Mike Cavantalo receiving an unusually severe reprimand from his boss, for apparently failing to do a thorough job on a recent report. (Cavantalo’s sketchy first draft found its way into distribution as a final copy.) After the tirade, Cavantalo retreats to his office wondering, “if it’s starting now.” In a flashback, he recalls a recent scene, one in which his former lover moved out because, via scapescope, she had seen Cavantalo’s name on a list of political criminals, two months in the future. Cavantalo himself is quite disturbed since he is aware of no quality in his personality or plans that might explain why he is seemingly relegated to such a fate.

Cavantalo resolves to cheat fate and find out what happened to cause his reprimand. He is disturbed to find out that his access to information is no longer as wide as it previously was. He is subjected to technologically caused harassment, such as being trapped in an elevator, and experiencing wide temperature fluctuations in his apartment. He feels that someone is probably manipulating him, but, before he finds out any significant details, he is subjected to another reprimand for missing a deadline. (This time his article text simply vanished, as if he had never even started the project.) He is demoted.

After more investigation, he is demoted again because of an article critical of the government, apparently authored by him. Then, due to apparent computer error, he is almost given an unnecessary operation. He is thoroughly convinced by now that he is being deliberately manipulated, but he still does not know by whom.

Soon, Cavantalo is fired for supposedly sending a threatening communication to his boss, but he has had time to trace the sabotage efforts to another government office. He bluffs his way into the office and in a confrontation is able to obtain an admission from the agent in charge. The purpose of the manipulation was to put him into a position in which he could easily be coerced into doing a large favor for the government.

They reveal that Cavantalo’s sister is a member of a clandestine group currently occupying the long-deserted NORAD Cheyenne Mountain Complex, buried deep in the Colorado Rocky Mountains. The group apparently includes one of the original developers of scapescope and is working on a project that is felt to be a threat to the government. (The primary speculation is that the group is working on a scapescope improvement that will allow them to see farther into the future than the government can.)

The government wants Cavantalo to infiltrate the group and stop the effort. He refuses. One last elevator ride, during which one of Cavantalo’s close friends is threatened, is enough to change his intentions. He agrees to cooperate but privately resolves to take no action.

Cavantalo contacts his sister and is able to enter the mountain complex but soon finds that, despite his tarnished public image, he is not to be trusted with the nature of the project. He meets one of his sister’s friends, Lisa Ryan, and is attracted to her.

Before he can gain the confidence of the group members, he is placed in a precarious situation. He is approached by a man who claims to be an infiltrator and needs Cavantalo’s help to smuggle a modified scapescope prototype out of the complex. Caught between wanting to protect the group’s work and not wanting the government to know that he might not cooperate, Cavantalo steals the prototype but, unknown to the reader and the infiltrator, damages it so that it will not be of any use to the government. He turns the secretly damaged prototype over to the infiltrator who is then disclosed to be a now-loyal group member.

Ostracized, but allowed to stay in the complex, Cavantalo keeps quiet until an apparently real infiltrator anonymously contacts him. Cavantalo talks to Lisa and convinces her that he had not betrayed the group but that no one else should know since his position will allow him to keep tabs on any other government people. Cavantalo admits to Lisa that he is torn between helping the group and not wanting a longer scapescope viewing time, when she tells him that the real purpose of the group is to make scapescope totally unusable by creating time waves, a disturbance in the energy field necessary for its operation.

While the group is making final preparations for operating their disrupter, Cavantalo is approached by the infiltrator who has planted a device that will kill everyone still in the complex in a few hours. Cavantalo breaks away, and, after a chase and fight, tries to warn the people in the complex, but they don’t believe him. He makes his way into the testing area where Lisa convinces the others to listen to Cavantalo.

<Note: You must tell the editor how the book ends, at least in general terms>

They find the device and deactivate it. Final testing of the scapescope disrupter is finished and it is turned on. It works, but the disruption caused by the device has a secondary effect; it enables them to see brief glimpses of periods that they guess to be one to two centuries in the future. Thus, although their efforts have created a potential long-term curiosity or problem, they have eliminated the short-term predicament.

Good luck to those first novelists in the audience. And if you’re not sure what agents to approach, look at the listings of recent sales in Locus or Science Fiction Chronicle. If you’re already in SFWA thanks to some short-fiction sales, check the agent listing at the back of the annual directory. It’s the very best source around for finding out who represents writers who’ve been around long enough to have fired their agents if they weren’t happy.