Agent's dead, what happens to my money!

What happens if you part ways with the agent, or they quit the field? Do you arrange payment directly from the publisher and then wrangle with them over errors? It seems as though the old agent would still have a stake in whether the statement is accurate, since their 15% depends on it, but can they still intercept the checks at that point?

If you secure a new agent, are they generally willing to help look over statements for your prior books, or do they only deal with the ones they've negotiated? (My head is swimming with complications, especially all the different potential sources for subrights money).

Related thought, though perhaps this is a different topic: what happens when an agent dies? Can somebody 'inherit' their income, the way authors' rights can go to their estates?

The way you describe this--"intercept checks"--makes me wonder if you suspect tomfoolery. I don't intercept checks from publishers. They're actually addressed to me, and there is a full time, highly competent bookkeeper here at New Leaf who makes sure you get your money in a timely fashion and correctly accounted. Every single agent in the world is REQUIRED to handle your money properly. If you suspect that is not happening, please email me for private guidance.

To your more general question:

The agent who sold the book is, in theory, responsible for explaining the royalty statement and handling any problems. More often than not, the default agent who fields question about statements from previous sales will be your current agent. My authors are used to asking me first. Sometimes they'll preface it with "I'm not sure I should ask you" but my stance is: my client, ask me first.

If your agent parts ways with you via death, the commission proceeds are part of her estate. The publisher can split the money and pay the estate directly, and pay you directly. You can request the split without the agent's consent if you need to. (It's your money.) Generally most agents have plans for what happens when they kick the bucket.  (Mine involve a large Viking funeral, professional mourners who wail and rend their garments, some sort of whisky bucket brigade led by Jeff Somers, and the lovely people at New Leaf seamlessly taking over my list.)

Did my agent fire me and I just don't know it?

I've had an agent for some nine years now. About three years ago we had a fall-out and didn't speak for some time. I've sent her several scripts in the interim and she acknowledges receipt of them very politely, but never gets back to me. I'd doubt she's really pushing them but I've no way of knowing.
My question is; should I accept she's no longer my agent and look for another one? Is this just how an agent terminates a relationship?  By being polite and not getting back on anything important. Or should I confront her and ask what she wants to do - does she still want to work with me?
She's my first and only agent and I've no idea how it works. 

There's a term for this now in social situations: ghosting. 

It is however completely unacceptable in business transactions.

First, if you have a written agreement with an agent there should be a clause about how the representation is severed. My clause says written notice and 30 days later, done. From either party.

If you do NOT have a written agreement, you have an oral agreement. You still need to sever it in writing.

The reason you need this in writing is because if you sell another book, and the first agent says "hey I'm your agent" you better have written evidence she's not, or you're going to be forking over 15% to her for a project she didn't sell.

And you know when people come out of the woodwork with their hand out? When there's money at stake. 

She's no longer your agent in practice, but she's your agent of record. You need to talk to her directly and ask if she still wants to work with you. If she's just been sitting on your work for years, you might want to find out why that's happened as well.

You mention a "falling out" after which you didn't speak for a while. That's a pretty big clue that something is very very wrong here. 

If you decide to sever, a written notice, sent via a service like UPS or FedEx that gives you a delivery receipt is required.



 

My agent hates my new book. Not just sorta, either. A LOT. What to do?

I had an agent for (5) years with a well-known NYC agency, and although my initial novel had some interest, it didn’t end up going anywhere. Which is ok . . . it blends genres, and I knew it’d be a hard sell. However, I recently sent my agent another MS, which she’s since declined. Her critique was honest and decent, and she stressed that it was only her opinion and I could feel free to shop it around to see if anyone else might be interested.

So I’m kind of at a crossroads; I knew this new novel would also be difficult (all told in the present tense, doesn’t fit neatly into a genre, unsympathetic protagonist, etc.). But I’m also a firm believer that an author should write the kind of stories he/she wants to read . . . the trick being to pick stories other people want to read also. However, I didn’t expect my biggest critic to be my agent, who wasn’t even interested in a revision (the things that caused her angst being endemic to the story).

The agent liked the writing and some of the elements, but wasn’t digging the main character or how the plot developed. I guess what I’m wondering is: 1) does this happen often, and 2) would it be gauche mentioning the agency in a query letter? Or even sending query letters? I’ve had the first (50) pages workshopped with my book club, and the response was very positive (he said, knowing the next 280+ pages could suck). But agents have to make money, and I don’t know if this is simply a nice way of saying she doesn’t think the MS is up to par. I guess I’m looking for a Diogenes (with a pectoral fin) to light the way . . . if you have any opinions one way or the other, I’d love to hear them.

oh boy.
This is one of the questions you want to ask an agent before you sign on the dotted line: "what if I write something you hate. How do you handle that?"

My job is selling the work my clients write.

There are some exceptions to that: I will not send a book on submission if I find it offensive. That's simply my personal position, and I will tell a client that if needed. I hope we will have determined this BEFORE the book is written, but you never know.

I try not to send out books that I don't think will sell. That said, I've sold some stuff that I thought needed more work.

When I get a project that I'm hesitant about, I talk to my client. Your agent has done that too. She's said "shop around."

You now have two choices: sever, or write something else.

I can't tell you what to write, and I wouldn't presume to tell you your agent is wrong about a novel I've never read.

It's always less terrifying to do nothing, but you can't do that and have a career.

Talk to your agent again. Be ready to listen to what she's telling you. Ask her to be completely straightforward.  Does she want you write something new, or is this a sign she doesn't think you're a good match.

Agents need to make sales to stay in business. If she's shopped one novel to no avail, and gotten a second in that she doesn't like at all, be ready to hear that she's not as enthusiastic as you want.

As to your questions: this happens enough that my colleagues and I talk about it pretty often. It's a horrible situation for us, just like it is for you.

You can't query if you have an agent.  There are probably some agents out there who will talk to you on the down-low, but it's considered a pretty slimy practice.

I'll talk in general terms to an author who has an agent, but my most frequent advice to them, as it is to you here: talk to your agent directly. Find out what she's thinking. Make your decision based on that information.




PS I'm having "Diogenes (with a pectoral fin)" engraved on my business cards.

At what point does expecting someone to be patient become rude?

CarolynnWith2Ns asked this in the comment trail of the blog post about timing:

At what point does expecting someone to be patient become rude? 

That's a really good question.

I saw the comment 34 minutes after hanging up from a telephone call with a client; a phone call that was about a proposal we've been working on for more than a year, and has had some serious setbacks in terms of my available time.

I'm very fortunate to have clients who have not lost patience with me.
On the other hand I've have more than a few former clients because they DID lose patience with me.

Patience is an individual sensibility.
[Just like eating peas with honey is a gross breach of table manners to some, and the only way to keep peas on a knife, thus practical, to others.]

I try to set realistic expectations for people who query and people who are waiting for me to read full manuscripts.  I tell them how long it should take, and say it's ok to touch base with me if they get worried, and certainly if they haven't heard from me in the time frame I've set.

That has helped diminish the level of writer anxiety in the prospect pool a lot.

Expecing someone to be endlessly patient without paremeters or permission to be in touch is rude.


I try to communicate with clients in a timely manner. Most of the time it works. Some times I fall VERY short. When that happens, the client moves to the top of the priority list. (In the prioritizaion on Tuesday's blog post, they become important AND urgent.)

We set a time for a telephone call and get caught up.

Expecting someone to wait patiently with no end in sight is rude.

In the normal woop and warf of client communication, appointments for phone calls are made, deadlines agreed to and expectations that To Do will Get  Done are set.

A LOT of times, those things get pushed back. A phone call needs to be rescheduled, a project doesn't get finished, a deadline gets missed.

I think a general rule of thumb here is that you can push/move/change an agreement three time before it's rude.

Absent some life changing situation three times is about the max.

If there is a life changing situation, then all bets are off, and you wait it out.

I've had colleagues lose clients when they've been upfront about personal situations they've had to deal with.  One in particular sent out an email that said she'd be dealing with a personal family emergency and was fired in a return email by a client who said s/he really wanted an agent who was available. (I had to be physically restrained from visiting that former client's place of abode. Fortunately we all realized that any client with that atttitude was better off being a former client and as soon as humanly possible, so bullet dodged, thank you.)

Last Vacation Day: Every Agent's Fear

The story broke, as these kinds of stories do now, on the internet. The "author" of THE BOY WHO CAME BACK FROM HEAVEN wrote an open letter saying the book published as non-fiction was, essentially, not.  He had not gone to heaven and met Jesus. He'd made it all up.

One of my followers on Twitter asked me what I'd have done if that had been my book.

The easy, self-righteous answer is "this would never happen to me cause I don't do those kinds of books." Which is true, I don't handle books that are intended for the Christian book market.

But the question made me ask myself what would have happened if I did sell a book that turned out to be made up. And let's not all rush to say "that would never happen to me" because it could, if the book was was shelved in one of my blind spots.  I've got a couple of blind spots: I generally believe the victim of a crime; I always believe stories of rape and harassment; I always believe stories of sex abuse.  I recognize those are my blind spots.

The people involved with Alex Malarky had blind spots too. His family, the literary agent, and the publisher  all have strong Christian beliefs. What Alex described was entirely possible for them. It would have seemed like a message from God, something that should be shared. Something they had an obligation to share.

There's even scripture to bolster the idea "At that time Jesus answered and said, I thank thee, O Father, Lord of heaven and earth, because thou hast hid these things from the wise and prudent, and hast revealed them unto babes." [Matthew 11:25]

Five years later Alex is eleven, not six, and it turns out he made it up to get attention.

Cue the scoffers and the gotcha crowd to say "of course it was all made up" and just to add insult to injury, make fun of the kid's surname.  This was a story made for the social media mob.

Before we all take up the burning pitch torches and light fires under vats of oil, let's remember there are many people out there who made stuff up and got away with it for a good long time.

And that's what my fear is: in wanting to believe something, I'll overlook what should be red flags.


I don't know how anyone involved in this story could have avoided this unfortunate turn of events other than to simply not believe it, but that's like saying "you can avoid drowning by not going in the water."

I don't know how to avoid falling in to the blind spot trap. 

Which means the answer to the question is "that could have been me, and boy am I glad it's not."

Query Question: an editor has my ms; how do I list that in the query

 I have a procedural query question. If my MS is currently out with an editor, following a pitch conference, I understand it is appropriate to note that in my query. Is that information to include in the first paragraph, last paragraph, or even the subject line?

It's a housekeeping measure and you put it in the last paragraph.


And lest you think this is a selling point for your work, let me pour a bucket of cold water on you by telling you it's not.

The reason it's not is that once an editor has read your manuscript, an agent can't go back to him/her with the polished up version you'll have after some developmental work. Your agent in fact can't go to anyone at that imprint again.


There's a reason we BEG you to query agents first and it's exactly for this reason. The editor you meet at the conference may not be the right editor at that publisher for your book. You can't know. We do.


I know it's unbelievably tempting to think of yourself as The Exception to that, but you're not. No one is. 


Don't pitch editors at conferences. Talk to them about what they like to read, or what they're specially looking for but if you can hold back on pitching your agent will thank you.

Interacting with agents in the wild

Last week was filled with revels surrounding the Edgar Awards,  then Malice Domestic. During much of this I was in the same place with authors, published and unpublished, agented, not-agented, ept and inept.  After a week of seeing some good interactions, and more than a few bad ones,  here are some tips on what to do to increase your chances that if you are looking for an agent, your interaction with one you meet in the wild will be a good one.

First, how to introduce yourself.

1. Tell me you read the blog.  It's better if this is actually true of course. As an opening, this is gold, because then I am thanking YOU, and can then ask where you're from and what you write.

If the agent doesn't write a blog, figure out something else, like "I saw your interview in Writers Digest, it was very helpful."

2.  Tell me that QueryShark helped you.  That's a sure-fire winner because then, I can ask you about your book.  This is so much more effective than you leading with "here, let me tell you about my book."

If you start by making it personal and important to ME, you've engaged my interest.  This is the first rule of selling, and if you want to talk to me about your book, you ARE SELLING.

Second, if you want to meet me, here's how to get on my radar at a conference:

3. Be nice to my clients. Often they introduce me to their friends at conferences. Any pal of a client is ok in my book.

4. Give good panel. I attend panels that my clients are on, and if you're fabulous I will buy your books and introduce myself.  How do you give good panel? You read the books of the other panelists, interact with the other panelists in a good way, and are charming. A light-hearted bio always helps.  A willingness to be funny about yourself too.  Not everyone is capable of giving great panel, but it's a great way to get my attention.


5. Win the William F. Deeck Malice Domestic Unpublished Manuscript grant. I pay serious attention to this contest.



Third, once the conversation gets started:

6.  Don't mention previous rejections. There's simply no way to reply to that, even if you say it without rancor, with something other than:
"Oh I was deranged, please send it again?"
"Oh did you find anyone who thought it was good?"
"Yea I remember that."

None of these lead to pleasant conversation. Pleasant conversation is your goal here!

Look for another gambit.  The very best one is asking about my clients:
 "How's that amazing Stephanie Jaye Evans?"
"I loved RUNNER!"
"Steve Ulfelder's books knock my sox off."

If you don't have those salvos available (and it's ok if you don't) ask what I'm reading. Ask if I'm having a good conference. Ask me if you can buy me a drink!

Since I too am in a social situation there with you, I am fully prepared to take your opening salvo and return it with gusto; Yes, I'd love a drink. Shall we find a waitress? What do you prefer?  or I'm exhausted I had to catch a 7am train! How did you get here? Where are you from?


See how that works? Now we're having conversation, and I don't want to eject you from my table because you started out with that stupid "hey you rejected me" thing.


Fourth, be attuned to setting

7. Don't interrupt a meeting. ASK if you're not sure. I was always glad to say "no, you're not interrupting" this weekend at Malice. I'm much more likely to be in a meeting if you see me talking to someone at BEA.  That said, two of my colleagues at Malice were there for LOTS of meetings, so don't ever assume. ASK.

8. Don't hover if I'm talking on my phone. 

9. Don't start a conversation on the way in to the Ladies. Start it when I'm washing my hands.

10. If I'm wandering around looking distracted and anxious, I'm probably trying to find the room I'm supposed to be in in five minutes. Asking if you can help me is a very nice thing to do.


When you look at that list, it's true, it's all about ME. Remember, this is a sales situation. You want my attention. I'm not sure yet if I want yours.

And if this feels one-sided, just remember, I'm in YOUR position at conferences when I'm introduced to or want to meet editors. These tips apply to that situation too.

Above all, remember agents are people. You're just not going to like some of us, and that's ok. I don't like some of us either.

Query Question: I think I have an agent but she's not responding

Over my couple of years querying (had one agent I left because she never sent out my book as promised until I nudged and then never passed along the editor response until I nudged--four months apart) I have seen agent behavior deteriorating. I have had probably six agents recently who never responded to a full request, even to polite follow-up nudges. This used to seem shocking, now it's rapidly becoming standard.

And now--this agent offered rep, we talked, I accepted (no contract yet) and she has blown off two follow-up calls. I mean saying are you available tomorrow afternoon and then not calling or sending a note to cancel. This leaves me in a very uncomfortable spot. I am a consultant who always follows up with clients. I understand busy, also being a workaholic who has multiple projects at one time. If I'm in the middle of something, I send a note to let someone know.

My instinct is to pull the plug but not having a full understanding of "agent" protocol, wonder if I am alarmist and maybe she just has an extremely casual approach. I mean, if my daughter did that I wouldn't think she didn't like me or something or was a flake. But this woman supposedly wants me as a client. Not a good impression. I feel as important to her as sidewalk debris. Not a nice feeling!! 

Five years ago you would have gotten a good rant out of me about unresponsive agents and how disrespectful not answering emails etc is.

Now, not so much.

Here's the thing it's helpful for authors to remember, and it was one of the hardest things for me to learn AND figure out how to accommodate: no matter what I plan to do today, something will come up that knocks that plan into a cocked hat.

It can be that a description of a client's book on Amazon reveals too much of the plot. I need to get in touch with the editor, make sure they get new copy written and put into the system and most important, that I have a calender item that says to follow up in a week or ten days.

I sometimes think my entire job is writing notes on my date book about things to follow up on.

It can be the arrival of a batch of royalty statements, all of which need to be scrutinized. I know I'll be writing at least one or two emails for every five pages of royalty statement I receive. Some of my clients have 35 page royalty statements. And that's just for ONE of their series.

And right now it can be clients calling with questions on their 1099 tax forms. Those questions go to the head of the line, trumping even royalty statements.



You wrote that you have "multiple projects at one time" which means you're busy I'm sure. Do you have 36 projects going not just at one time, but all the time? That's my workload. And that's just authors. Most authors have multiple books, and multiple deals for each book (translation, audio, film.)  That puts my number of multiple projects just north of 100. And that doesn't count queries, answering questions on the blog or what most other agents try to do: have a life.

Some people are better at balancing this kind of deluge than others. You might have queried an agent who isn't. It doesn't mean she's not a good agent, or will be scattered in her business dealings. It just means that when her inbox tops 100, she's not writing the kinds of "hey, I haven't forgotten you emails" that would ease your mind.

Sure, we all wish she would. But, before you pull the plug on an agent you think is a good fit, give her some time to get caught up. Continued polite nudging is OK.  Don't read more into it than she's got a lot going on.

And one of the main reasons people (not just agents) don't reply to nudging emails: it generates MORE email.  On the days I send status reports to clients or queriers I know my inbox will flood. If you're trying to get your head above water, that's daunting.


Right now, you should be querying since you don't have a contract and the agent hasn't said why that is.  You query until you have an agent, and right now, you don't.

Query Question: what to do when an agent clearly misunderstands

I was merrily reading queries the other day and came across one that sounded terrific. A great story, about a women in revolutionary war times, one about whom not much had been written.

I got to the end of the query, saw "manuscript" and "word count" but no, that would not deter me! No no! I donned my SuperQueryShark cape and swung into action.

My reply:

Hi guys (the non-gender specific use of the word)

For non-fiction like this, you need a proposal, not a finished ms.

Thus:
1. Do you have a proposal?
2. If you do not, do you know what one is (many writers do not, it's ok)

3. If you do, send to me as a word .doc attachment.

4. If you don't, and you don't know what one is, let me know.

5. If you don't, and you do know what one is, I need one (see item #3)

Questions? Of course you have questions. Fire away

Some 48 hours later, a reply landed in my mailbox. It practically quivered with gentility.

As we tried to explain to you in our initial query, TITLE is historical fiction, usually defined as fiction based upon historical facts whose main character is fictional.

I could hear her socks knocking as I read.

And sure enough. The initial query didn't try to explain. It was a bald-faced statement at the start: THIS IS A NOVEL (caps are mine)



umm...ooops.

I can just imagine the scene when the querier got my reply.

Email bell pings.
Reply pops in mailbox.
Querier opens email.

That dawning dread of realization that Something Is Very Very Wrong Here.

Is the agent insane? Has she lost what few marbles she had?

Was the query (oh dear godiva, what if OTHER agents think this??) unclear???
Hurriedly examining query.

Yes, it's right there at the top of the query: A NOVEL.


What to do???

1. Email agent to suggest remedial reading lessons?
2. Email agent to suggest she is a dunderhead and should consider work as a box of rocks very soon.

3. Reply to email with "um, it IS a novel, you dunderhead."
4. Pretend the agent is not a dunderhead, and perhaps just maybe, she forgot to read the first sentence.


Should this happen to you, that an agent has clearly missed something important (as in this is a novel, not non-fiction) this querier's example is the one you want to follow:


1. She wrote back.
2. She did NOT say "you're wrong"
3. She did not say "you dunderhead" although clearly that was the case.
4. She did not put A NOVEL all in caps as though to say "you dunderhead."
5. She called my attention to the fact this was a novel, without telling me I'd made a mistake.

In other words, she handled this like a pro.
And boy, am I glad for that, cause I feel like anything but.

Agent contact

Six months ago I signed with an agent, and he wanted to pitch my mystery as the first of a series. At the time I wrote it, I thought it was a standalone book, but he's absolutely right that it needs to be book one of many. I sent him a synopsis for a second book, which he was pleased with. He asked if he could show it to some editors(1), but that's the only hint he's shopping either book.

Fast-forward to this week. I've emailed him I'm done with the rough draft of the sequel and am ready to polish it and pass it along to my betas. No reply. Granted, he's a busy man, and technically we don't need any action on his end. However, since the future of this book hinges on the future of a book he's already signed, I'd like to know his current level of enthusiasm.

How do I go about reading the tea leaves here? Do I email and ask how things are looking on his end? Or should I leave it alone, soldier on, and not bother him until I have a finished draft?

First and foremost you should be able to pick up the phone and speak directly to your agent any time you want. Granted when you get her on the phone she may say "I need to call you back" or "I need to schedule a time to talk with you" but you are client not some sort of riff-raff off the street asking for a loosie and a light.

If you feel like you can't do that, you need to figure out why. Are you hesitant? Suck it up and go for it. Does your agent make you feel like an intrusion on their day? Not your problem. Call her anyway.

All these blog posts about 'Don't Call' 'Don't Bug Me' etc are for people at the query stage. That is Not You. You are a client. Your creative work is the starting point for our income stream. You get to talk to your agent without being made to feel you're a nuisance. Even if you are. (and it doesn't sound like you are at all)

However.

Note where I marked the (1).  This puzzles me.  He asked permission to show it to some editors?  I'm trying to think of when I've ever done that and I'm coming up blank.  My JOB is to show stuff to editors.  Manuscripts, synopses, sad puppies if they are so foolish as to reject anything.  I expect my clients to expect me to do that.

It's time for a call to your agent.  Ask for a submission list.   If you can't get one pretty promptly, you've got a different problem than what you've outlined here. Discuss his/her enthusiasm level. It may very well be that s/he is getting nowhere on the submissions, and that's always discouraging for both of us. 

word hooligans

I looked at those daunting stats for 2009 and realized I read a LOT of mss, maybe too many. Then I see Jennifer Jackson's (a fiercely talented agent and one of the Maass-keteers) blog post about her 2009 stats.

She read a LOT fewer than I did, and signed MORE clients. Harrumph!

Ok, I'm resolved: I'm holding firm; I'm toeing the line; I'm resolute. By GODIVA I will request LESS!

I brace myself at the e-query mailbox. I drape myself in righteousness. I hum a martial tune. I gird my - whatever you gird these days - for battle. I am READY.

I read a query. I read another. I say no with diligence. I march on, certain of my resolution, noble in my intent.

And then, from the tall grass, you pounce. You POUNCE! On ME!

Whatever girding there was falls to the wayside.

The martial tune breaks off.

My resolve isn't so much resolved as dissolved.

How am I supposed to resist good pages?? I ask you, how am I to fend off your siren song of prose.

I drape myself across the keyboard and feebly tap out: SEND FULL.

You pouncing prosers are word hooligans of the worst sort. You lie in wait for us unsuspecting readers. You disarm us with your stories, arrest us with your similes, defeat us with your diction.

You take no prisoners, you vanquish us with your verbiage.

I surrender.

It was a good resolution while it lasted-- about as long as it took to read this blog post.
I slink off to read.








You can buy the octopus I shamelessly stole.

Social interactions with agents

In the next four days I'll be attending several festive events that bring together writers, agents and others of our ilk. None of these events are writing conferences or involve scheduled pitch sessions.

Nonetheless they are an excellent way to meet agents IF and only if you don't behave like a yahoo.

Here are some suggestions for staying on the right track:

1. If you are at a cocktail party and see an agent you'd like to meet, say "hello, my name is Celia Cephalopod, how are you?"

I will then say "Hello Celia, nice to meet you." Conversation will ensue.



2. If you are at a dinner and find yourself seated next to an agent, say "hello, my name is Celia Cephalopod, how are you?"

3. If you find yourself in the elevator with the agent of your dreams you say "hello, my name is Celia Cephalopod, how are you?"

Notice none of those phrases include are you an agent?, what are you looking for? can I query you? can I pitch you my book?

You'll notice the sentence I've given you is a general, pleasant friendly greeting. That's how you meet and talk to an agent. Like they were people. Of course, we're not, but pretend for awhile, ok?

I was at a party recently with several dozen writers. I ended up sheltering next to one I'd known from a previous event to avoid the other writers swooping around the room. My pal was talking to two other writers. I had a chance to visit with them, and make a connection. I encouraged them both to query me. I have their names in my date book, and I'll remember them when they turn up in the inbox.

And all they had to do to get my interest? Stand there, and not be yahoos.

I'm frustrated and exasperated in turn with how simple this seems to me, yet no matter how much I rant, it never seems to get better.