Being Internly: Question from the Comments

An anon asked a question in the comments of my Submission Follow-up Post: In case of an offer of rep, should an author send emails to any agents they have queried or merely the agents who have requested a partial or full?


At the end of 2012, when I first ventured into my boss's slush email, she had emails from the beginning of 2012 that still needed to be processed. My organizational soul was positively shocked, but my boss's priority is, and always will be, her current clients. The other interns had things like "lives" and "families" occupying their time, while I was pretty unencumbered by such matters. So I was the logical choice to start imposing order onto chaos. 

The first thing I did when I opened a query was to search for any other emails associated with the queryer's email account. In some cases, my boss had already made a decision about the query, but neglected to file the query email in the appropriate folder. In others, the query might have been marked as unread in the inbox, but the full manuscript was sitting in the aptly named 'fulls' folder. And sometimes there would be an email letting my boss know that she'd missed out and the queryer had been signed by someone else. Those were the easy ones because the next step after the email search was to Google the query's author (a post about the importance of having an online presence will go live on 1/13/13).

I Googled pretty much every query I read because I was looking to see if the book had been self-pubbed or if there was agent information listed anywhere on the author's website. If the answer to either of these questions was yes, it meant we didn't have to spend time evaluating the query in question. However, not every author has a website (my techgirl heart shudders at the thought) and not every author puts agent info up. So sometimes there'd be a query or a partial or a full that we'd be interested about and my boss would email the author and we'd get a lovely response back saying, 'Sorry! I'm with someone else now.' It's like seeing a really awesome movie trailer that you get pumped up about and then having the studio yank the film. I took the time to watch the trailer, I got excited for the trailer, and now you're telling me no? It crushes my fragile soul. 

This is a very long way of saying that if it were up to me, I'd say, yes, send every agent you queried an email telling them that you're no longer available. It makes life easier for the interns. 

However, one must be practical about these things. 

How long has it been since you sent in the query? Some agents have language on their website that say if you don't receive a response within a certain time period, you can assume they've passed. So if almost a year has gone by and you haven't heard from the agent at all, you're probably in the clear, but if you just sent the query last week, the polite thing to do would be to email and withdraw. 

Was it unsolicited or did you meet them at a conference? If you've met them in person, it wouldn't hurt to let them know you've been snatched up by someone else. They may remember you and now they know you're a marketable commodity. You may choose to switch agents one day and you don't want to burn any bridges unintentionally. My boss remembers people. I'm crap with names so I might send her an email referring to the 'query with the duck and the mongoose' and she will be like, 'Ah, yes, Author X. I think they pitched me a book at a conference that I passed on because ducks weren't selling at the time and I told them to query me again if they completed manuscript-altering revisions.' So what do you have to lose by letting them know you are off the market? 

Have you sent one hundred and fifty queries out? Kudos to you for being so dedicated to your craft. The previous questions still apply, but, goodness, would it really be time-effective for you to email the one hundred and twenty-nine agents who haven't yet replied to you? In this case, it would probably be better for you to focus your energy on polishing your manuscript to its very best state and giving the agents the bad news as they respond to your query. 

Are you still hoping your dream agent might swoop in to sign you? So you got an offer of representation from an agent, but while you are very happy that your publishing dreams are moving forward, you still have a non-stalker-y author-crush on, say, my boss. If you have not yet said 'Yes, omigod, please represent me!' to the other agent, you can totally email my boss and be all, 'Just so you know, this other person asked me to the prom, and I haven't said yes yet, but if you don't answer me by the end of fifth period, I'm for sure gonna go with them.' My boss has actually gotten emails like these and those queries/partials/fulls moved to the top of the list. Nobody wants to go to the prom with a less than perfect date simply because they didn't ask in time. If you don't hear back from the agent within the time frame you specified, you are free and clear to make the decision that's best for you. 

But don't actually ask my boss to the prom. I will find it hilarious. She will not. 


My Boss Says: Yes, send an email (according to her, this would be the only acceptable time for a mass mailing). Put OFFER OF REP in the subject heading and be clear if this is a courtesy heads-up (i.e. you wouldn't be open to any other offers- think of it like an engagement announcement) or if you are trying to suss out other options. 

Being Internly: Submission Follow-Ups

I've learned that agenting does not exactly have normal business hours. It's not uncommon for me to get emails from my boss at 3am because she's awake to deal with foreign right issues. They also have to do a delicate balancing act between seeking out new clients and being available for the clients they already have. So time is a precious, precious, commodity and it's not uncommon for agents to get very, very, backed-up in reading submissions.

My boss has been closed for submissions for over six months. People still send her queries. If it were up to me (because I'm the strict one), every unsolicited query (my boss sometimes asks authors she meets at conferences to email her stuff) that came in during the closure would get an automatic rejection.  However, my boss is a nice person, so every email gets read and evaluated. My current assignment is to help my boss get caught up with her backlog, which means reading every query, partial, or full that's been sitting around, waiting. I've been trying to make this a priority because some of these authors have been waiting for months, which, good God, I commend them on their patience. My head would have exploded from the anticipation by now. 

If you've been caught in a submission limbo hell, my sympathies, man. Check the agent's webpage for any language about sending follow-up emails. My boss doesn't specifically say anything, but she makes it clear that it'll take about two months for a response. Personally speaking, as in this is my opinion and my opinion alone, I've made it a priority to read manuscripts where the author sent a polite, professional, follow-up email after three months have lapsed. The follow-up tells me the author has been keeping track of the queries they've sent out, that they are actively engaged in getting their book published, and that my boss is still someone that they are interested in hearing from. In today's market, authors need to do their part in marketing their books, whether through Twitter, Facebook, or a blog. So if you're on the ball enough to know when to send a follow-up, you can probably handle a blog book giveaway. However, multiple emails in a relatively short time frame sends up a red flag. Patience is your best friend during the submission process. 

If you've gained representation from another agency, dude, you rock! Our team missed out so you should send a polite, professional, email that informs us that you are withdrawing your manuscript because you've been contracted elsewhere. This helps us because then we don't devote time to reading your totally awesome, but unavailable, submission and we'll just have to buy the book like anyone else if/when it get published.

If your patience has completely run out and you've decided to self-publish because you want to share your book with the world, please send the agent a polite, professional, email informing them of this. Janet Reid and Rachelle Gardner (professional literary agents that I don't know) share their opinions on the subject quite articulately. My boss has a similar policy. From my personal experience, I've gotten burned twice where I spent time reading the manuscripts and really liking them, only to find out later they've already been self-pubbed. It's frustrating as hell, especially for this one book that I was loving and mentally plotting different ways to make it shine like a frickin' diamond, and it was all for nothing. Please, won't you think of the interns? Email.

Being Internly: Avoiding the WTF Face

While going through my boss's slush pile, I learned something new about myself. I have a WTF face. It looks something like this:

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The head turn is usually me checking to see if any of my co-workers noticed how I just contorted my face.

So what merits the WTF face? Usually it's one of two things: grandiose language or a bizarre plot. By bizarre plot, I mean the kind of thing that might be read by brainwashed cult members or deranged people who idolize serial killers. Grandiose language is the kind where there are five adjectives in one sentence and everything is oddly formal, but there's something weird going on. Here's a made-up example, "The most high and respected chieftain, who ruled over the part of the plains where the snow falls in thick white clumps, raised his shiny staff of thick wood and declared to the sickly weak maiden to fear not, for his mighty essence would bring her back to life again."

I have the utmost respect for authors. They are my rock stars, but behind every rock star is an entourage and a writer should be no different. Go to a critique group. Visit Absolute Writer and get a beta reader. Attend workshops. Join a professional organization. Find a neutral party who has no emotional or financial stake in your well-being and ask them to read your manuscript. Get their unvarnished opinion. Then find another one. Do not let anyone rewrite anything for you. Just gather up all their notes and their reactions (Word's Track Changes is your best friend right now). You may find commonalities, a few places where everyone got tripped up. Fix those.  There may be copious notes all over the entire manuscript which usually means you chalk this up as a learning experience and start on a new one or you rewrite the whole thing.

Only query when you are sure that eight out of ten people will not make a WTF face when reading your manuscript. If you send my boss a query and I read it, I'm making the assumption that you are sending the very best possible version of your work. A WTF face means this is not market-ready at all and you are probably not a good investment.

Save all of us some time and avoid the WTF face.

Being Internly: An Introduction

You may have noticed the cobwebs. It's been a while.

The reason behind my hiatus and my return is the same. Back in June 2012, I became a freelance, unpaid, intern for a literary agent. In a nutshell, it's a lot like my beta-reading work, where I read manuscripts and  give my opinion. On occasion, for the agency's clients, I might do more in-depth editing.

It's been an interesting experience for me because it's a bit of a paradigm shift from being a bookseller. When you work in a bookstore, the books themselves are a commodity. It doesn't matter to us if the book is an one-hit wonder and the author fades into obscurity shortly after. It matters to an agent, though, because they are investing in the author. They're not so much looking for a great book as they are looking for an author who writes great books. Writing may be an art, but publishing is a business.

Over the last six months, it's become clear to me that my eventual career path is skewing more editorial than agent-y. When I graduated from queries to partials & fulls, I kept trying to fix them. I'd be like "Well, this one isn't market-ready, but the author could strengthen that part and cut this and maybe add more of this." My boss ended up calling me into her virtual office and said, "We are not here to fix. We're here to sell." It's kinda like going to an estate auction. There are a lot of other people around, all bidding on the same lots. Sometimes you're lucky enough to be the top bidder on a Tiffany lamp. Sometimes you win an auction only to discover your prize isn't as great as you thought, like a pristine lunch box with a moldy milk thermos inside. Sometimes you are the only one to notice that rare Barbie doll in a jumbled pile. Sometimes you find a dusty, scuffed, antique that just needs a good polishing to double its value. But you don't go to an estate auction with the intention of buying something that's broken.

Once I had that straight in my head, it was a lot easier for me. Things certainly moved faster because I can generally tell within the first six chapters if something is worth pursuing or not. I feel bad at times, though, because there will be concepts that are really original and definitely marketable, but the writing is just not there or the writing will be strong, but the story will be unmarketable. My first thought is always 'How can I help them fix this?' So, as such, my goal is to obtain an editorial freelance position.

However, in the meantime, I wanted to share some of what I've learned so that maybe you can be a Tiffany lamp and not a moldy lunch box.

Review: Rogue Rider by Larissa Ione

Rogue Rider by Larissa Ione

My rating: 4 of 5 stars



It seemed apropos that, since I read Immortal Rider and Lethal Rider while on vacation at Disneyland during RWA, I read the NetGalley e-arc of Rogue Rider while on vacation at Walt Disney World. Only I would bring dark romances to the happiest places on Earth.

I think this book is going to be very polarizing.

Immortal and Lethal were very dark with lots and lots of torture & death. Rogue Rider is the story of what happens after a war, a time of healing and rebirth. Pestilence is defeated, long live Reseph. The twist here, however, is that Pestilence and Reseph are the same person, just different personalities. Readers spent a long time abhorring Pestilence as he committed atrocious acts against the people we were rooting for. He slaughtered the innocent, took part in countless depravities, and came really close to ending civilization as we know it. Now Pestilence exists in a metaphorical cage within the body and the Reseph personality is in control. The question becomes how do you atone for something you did when you weren't yourself. Should you even have to? Reseph's entire family wants him dead, just to prevent the mere possibility of Pestilence rising again, and it's hard to fault them for that.

Ione does a good job of differentiating between Reseph and Pestilence. Actions aside, Pestilence's POVs from previous books differ in rhythm from Reseph's POVs in Rogue. I could totally pretend they were two separate people, allowing me to separate my loathing for Pestilence from my role as a cheerleader for Reseph. What tripped me up was the fact that Reseph is deeply damaged. Once he gets his memories back, he's a psychological mess. Ione did her damnedest, but I couldn't shake off my psych training and I felt he was ill-equipped to be in a relationship at all. He should have made peace with himself before he committed to someone else. As a result, Reseph becomes rather co-dependent on Jillian.

I was pretty focused on Reseph and Jillian, but Ione does tie up some loose ends, including finally revealing the identity of the Horsemen's father, and sets up Reaver for book five. If you are a big Reaver fan, you should read Rogue Rider, just so you're ready for his book. Actually, knowing Ione, if you plan on reading anything else set in this world, you should probably read this book.

Review: Relish: My Life in the Kitchen by Lucy Knisley

Relish: My Life in the Kitchen by Lucy Knisley

My rating: 4 of 5 stars



Snagged from NetGalley.

Like many people, I was first introduced to Lucy Knisley through French Milk and I've been following her LiveJournal ever since. I enjoyed French Milk so much, when I started working at the library here, I recommended they add it to our popular reading collection.

Relish is not a complete story like French Milk, but instead is a series of loosely linked vignettes. At the end of each chapter, Knisley provides a recipe that fits the theme of the chapter. Comfort food, this is not. While the recipes are fairly simple in design, they are not for picky eaters and could definitely be termed as gourmet. This is also not particularly vegetarian friendly. Knisley makes no apologies for loving foie gras, citing an incident from her childhood where she was attacked by a flock of geese. There was also a mildly disturbing brief glimpse of a turkey hanging from a meat hook. It's all relevant and not at all gratuitous, but let the non-meat eaters be warned.

You get what you see with Relish. Knisley keeps the focus very narrowly on memories of food. She touches on her parents' divorce, but never discloses why it happened or why her mother got (apparently) sole custody. I know from her LiveJournal that she's already done pieces on her ex-boyfriend and her time in Chicago, but she glosses over most of it, focusing on how she followed in her mother's footsteps as a cheese-monger. Knisley keeps things light, never revealing too much, and it feels like Lucy the Narrator is almost a fictional character, separate from Lucy the Creator.

I kinda wish that Relish had come before French Milk because Relish is very much an appetizer while French Milk is the entree. I'd love to see a volume about Knisley's professional growth as a cartoonist for dessert.

Review: Taking Shots by Toni Aleo

Taking Shots by Toni Aleo

My rating: 1 of 5 stars



I pretty much knew by page 15 that this was going to be a rough one for me and I basically forced myself to finish it. Lo and behold, my very first one star review.

When you write a book where one of the main themes is about the weight of the heroine, you have to be careful because a woman's weight is a sensitive thing. I'll be honest, part of the appeal of this book for me was that I thought the heroine was plus-sized (an erroneous assumption I made based on the Amazon synopsis). The heroine, Ellie, was a size two, but due to hypothyroidism, she ballooned up to 180 pounds and currently, she's down to a size ten, which she still considers fat. Towards the end of the book, when she drops down to a 'single digit' size, it's the one bright spot in her depression at the time.

I struggled with this. A lot. I told myself that any unwanted alteration to a woman's body, whether it be weight gain, scars, what have you, is going to be traumatic for that person. I wouldn't have a problem, after all, if she was calling herself ugly after gaining facial scars from a car crash, but I couldn't help it, I did have a problem with how Ellie's weight was portrayed. The median size for an American woman is 14. Set aside the weight issue, in 1941, the average height for a woman was 5'2". Today, it's 5'4". That means, based on your frame and bone structure, a woman's weight could range from 114lbs to 151lbs and still be considered healthy. Ellie's obsession with her weight, therefore, is practically an eating disorder.

One could argue that Ellie has a warped self-view, due to her mother's and sister's treatment of her, and therefore, doesn't recognize that she's on the low end of the scale. I'm not denying the likelihood of this, but Ellie has made every effort to cut her mother & sister out of her life. She clearly recognizes they're not a healthy influence nor do they have her best interests at heart. So I don't understand why she would continue to take their criticism about her weight to heart or why she'd believe her sister when her sister claims that Shea kissed her, leading Ellie to spectacularly dump him without listening to a word of explanation.

Furthermore, Ellie claims to be devoted to her nieces & nephews, taking them once a month for Aunt Ellie time, but then she abandons them at Christmas without a second look because she likes Shea's family better. Ellie talks about how pissed her siblings & parents were, but didn't mention a single word about the kids. There wasn't even a throwaway mention of 'Oh, I have to mail their presents,' or, 'Let me call the kids before we do anything.' Nothing.

It also turns out that her uncle is the owner of the team and therefore the man who signs Shea's paychecks. However, Ellie doesn't seem to think that Shea needs to be aware of this fact, despite the implications it could have for his career. She continually hides things from him, even when she knows she should tell him. This is nowhere more apparent than when Shea meets her family for the first time and she lets him be blindsided by her parents.

To me, throughout the entire book, Ellie is shallow and selfish. At one point, even her best friend calls her on her behavior, telling her if she doesn't get her head out of her ass, their friendship is over. In comparison, Shea comes off like a freaking saint for putting up with her (although some of the scenes with his twin sister skirted just along the edge of creepy and co-dependent) rather than an actual human being.

What made it even worse for me was that the hockey stuff was pretty good. Aleo achieved just the right balance of giving the reader enough sports stuff to make it seem legit, but not enough to overwhelm the book or intimidate readers looking for a contemporary. I also liked most of the supporting characters. If Aleo had avoided committing Ellie to specific clothing sizes and made her a dutiful daughter instead of a rebellious one (thereby eliminating some of the character inconsistencies), this probably would have been at least a three star book for me.