delgrosso dot com

Agents: Who Needs ‘Em?

The answer, my dear aspiring scribes, is no one. Agents are a vestigial luxury enjoyed by established writers of a higher order, but they are hardly mandatory; don’t let yourself think for a moment that you need one when you are just starting out.

I’m sure you are aghast, and ready to point out to me that every book about writing you’ve consumed so far (and let’s be honest, you’ve read a lot of them) has asserted rather authoritatively that acquiring an agent is an absolute necessity if you intend on selling your novel and/or screenplay.

This, of course, is complete nonsense.

All of those aforementioned books were likely written by authors who themselves had agents, and therefore had to state in the book that agents were essential. Would you throw your agent under a bus by not mentioning her in your book about writing? Of course you wouldn’t. Having said that, it should now be clear to you that they are featured in writing guides merely as a professional courtesy and not as a sine qua non of the publishing world.

Obviously we must now address the question of how to bring your work to the attention of a publisher. The answer is a simple one: direct solicitation. Package the most recent draft of your hush-hush manuscript¹  in a large envelope and send it directly to the publishers you would most like to print your novel.

You’re a whip-smart bunch, so I’ve already anticipated your next concern. You’re going to tell me you’ve researched the major publishing houses and noticed they all have a disclaimer on their websites to the effect of “no unsolicited materials accepted”. Of course they need to say this, or else they’re going to be drowning in drafts from every amateur who ever put pen to paper. But they obviously don’t mean anyone reading this column; statements like that are just a wink and a nod to professionals like you who have read a large number of writing guides and have worked feverishly for the better part of three entire months on your manuscript.

It may take some time to receive a response from the publishers – don’t get discouraged! Acquisitions editors have a lot of work to do, and they may not get to your submission for at least a few days after you send it in. If you’re really concerned about time, and you have a little bit of extra money to spend, you might want to consider services like FedEx Overnight, USPS Express Mail, or even UPS Next Day Air. In addition to rapidly getting your manuscript to the publisher’s door, packages that exude a sense of urgency and importance tend to find their way to the top of the editorial pile more quickly than a plain brown envelope.

Hopefully this week’s column has helped clarify why expensive professionals are not necessary to your success as a first-time author. Also, if you have any topics you’d like The Passive Writer to cover in future essays, please send them directly to my agent.

Are you religiously reading Low Resolution Theatre, the comic I’m doing in tandem with the lovely and talented Angela Black? Are you following it on Tumblr? Or subscribed to it via RSS? You should be.

Alternatively, do you have “read LRT every day” tattooed backwards on your forehead so you’re reminded of it every single morning when you look in the mirror? That’s an option as well, albeit a fairly drastic one.

Regardless, please read and support the comic. Early adopters will have bragging rights once it becomes world-famous. Also, you might get access to some cool swag before the general public.

To be tossed into a fire.

But no. I will instead be spending the day (and likely the weekend, and a good part of next week) on the fifth set of notes on the fourth full rewrite of this fucking thing.

So, yay.

Are you participating in Infinite Summer? If not, you should be¹

Infinite Jest is an enormous yet rewarding read, and is one of my top five favorite novels.

Yes, it looks intimidating, but as Jason Kottke explains in his excellent forward to the project:

It is a fact that Infinite Jest is a long book with almost a hundred pages of endnotes, one of which lists the complete (and fictional) filmography of a prolific (and fictional) filmmaker and runs for more than eight pages and itself has six footnotes, and all of which you have to read because they are important. So sure, it’s a lengthy book that’s heavy to carry and impossible to read in bed, but Christ, how many hours of American Idol have you sat through on your uncomfortable POS couch? The entire run of The West Wing was 111 hours and 56 minutes; ER was twice as long, and in the later seasons, twice as painful. I guarantee you that getting through Infinite Jest with a good understanding of what happened will take you a lot less time and energy than you expended getting your Mage to level 60 in World of Warcraft.

So, go out and get a copy right now, and dig in. You won’t be sorry.

Everything in the ER looked green to him for some reason. Maybe because of the curtains or the paint or the horrible lighting or the film of envy coating his own eyeballs at the thought of some other lucky bastard in the ward dying that day.

He found it hard to stay calm on the gurney and wanted to rip apart the rough institutional sheets and scream and cry but ended up laughing instead because the BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP sounds from across the hallway made him feel like he was an extra in some trauma scene in a TV medical drama.

The absurdity of it all soothed him until the nice nurse came in and gave him a sedative and complimented his watch and he looked at her sideways and shook his head and said “I should be dead now,” and she just smiled and left and all he could do was look at the green ceiling and laugh through his tears when the BEEP BEEP BEEP started up again.