Chip MacGregor .com

How long should I wait before checking back with an agent?

Clarice wrote to ask, "When is it appropriate to inquire on the status of a submission to an editor or agent? I sent something in to an agent four months ago, but have yet to hear."

Keep in mind that every agent has his or her own system. I try to get to submissions once a week, but sometimes I go three or four weeks between looking. And that's just for a quick look -- if I like something, I have to read it through, and that means I could have it for a month or two before I can give the author a firm response. In my experience, most agents would like to have two or three months to consider a proposal before they render a "yes" or "no." During busy times (like Christmas, summer vacation, and stints at rehab), it may take longer. So if you sent a project to an agent four months ago, and she hasn't responded to you, it might be very appropriate just to drop a friendly note -- something like, "Hello, I'm just checking back with you on that proposal I sent you a few months back. I was wondering if you've had a chance to look it over yet. I know you're busy, so thanks very much for giving it your consideration."

On a related note, Hank wrote to complain that an agent hadn't responded to his proposal in a year... but when I checked with Hank, he noted that he'd never met the agent, nor had he queried via email or letter. In other words, he had just sent in a proposal cold. And that leads me to ask,"Where is it written that an agent must respond to you just because you wrote to him or her?"

Answer: It isn't. An agent isn't obligated to respond to everyone who writes him or her. I've got a job to do, and time is money, so I really can't take the time to read every project somebody sends in cold. I don't feel that's a deriliction of my duty, either -- I simply don't believe that I owe every writer a favor. With MacGregor Literary, I state very clearly on my company website that I'm not looking for unsolicited proposals. Still, people send them. I also state on my site that I don't have time to read every project coming in over the transom, and that I don't return unsolicited proposals, even if they come with a postage-paid envelope. It's just not my job to take responsibility for someone else's idea. Still, I have people I've never heard of write to complain that I didn't respond, or that I didn't return materials -- as though their decision to mail me something puts a burden on me, merely because I work as a literary agent. Wrong. I generally represent people I know -- maybe we met at a conference, or they were a referral from a current author... but it's a very rare thing for an agent to yank something out of a slushpile and offer an agency agreement. So make sure you have realistic expectations, Hank.

Cecelia wrote and said, "I've noticed more authors using the term bestseller or bestselling author in their materials. Is there a rule about this? Must an author make an established bestseller list in order to use that term?"

Absolutely, Ceclia. An author needs to have a book that hits a recognized bestseller list in order to claim he or she is a "bestselling" author. That would mean your book needs to land on a legitimate bestseller list like the New York Times list, the LA Times, the Denver Post, the Wall Street Journal, USA Today, Barnes & Noble's list, or the Amazon Top 100. (It's also fine to note that you had a book land in your regional paper -- say the Portland Oregonian or the Cincinnati Enquirer, though those lists don't quite have the same cachet as the major lists.) Several outlets (Publishers Weekly, CBA, etc) release their own bestseller list every month, and a few track the various genres as well as offering an overall "top 50 titles" in terms of sales. So if an author claims to be a "bestseller" in her proposal, she needs to be able to back that up with evidence of hitting a list.

By the way, BookScan is the reporting vehicle for most bookstores. Many CBA and religious bookstores use a different tracking system, called Stats. These are supposed to track book sales by ISBN number, and create a reporting data base for publishers. But one of the reasons this can confuse authors is because some books can sell incredibly well and never have their sales reported. Books sold in Sam's Club and Costco, for example, are not reported to any bestseller tracking system -- so you could sell 100,000 copies and never appear on a bestseller list. The recent success of The Shack is a good example -- the book moved a couple hundred thousand copies through alternative sales channels before any reporting store picked it up and began noting sales, so it had sold a bazillion copies and never appeared on a bestseller list. Once it was trackable, it hit #1 in the religion category. It's reasonable to ask the question, "Would it have been fair for the author of The Shack to declare himself a bestselling author prior to making the list?" Maybe... but that's not the way the system works.

Barbara wrote and noted, "You have advised authors to spend some serious cash in order to create a dynamite website. Can you tell me how many zeroes serious cash has? And are there templates or places a prospective author could view in order to begin making plans?"

I think a good website can be a great marketing tool. We used to think of sites as akin to a highway billboard -- something you drove by, read, and moved on. But now sites are incredibly useful tools -- a way to stay on top of the industry, communicate with readers, and let people know about books and speaking events. They have also proven to be content-centered -- so if you have a plumbing company, you don't just say "great rates and quality service" like you might in a yellow pages ad. With a website, you'll have suggestions for fixing common plumbing problems, a place to ask questions, introductions to the company, a way to schedule an appointment, maybe even a "history of plumbing." In other words, the site has become the repository for information. It's why we've quickly become a nation of readers again. And it's always changing. We just updated our corporate site and added Twitter and Facebook, and we're going to move this blog from Typepad to Wordpress soon. 

If you're an author who speaks, wants to stay in touch with readers, and can devote time to it, your marketing people will probably encourage you to create a good website. And it will mean you can expect to spend somewhere in the $3000 to $5000 range. You can go cheaper, of course (some places offer a do-it-yourself site for $99), but you get what you pay for. And you can spend a heck of a lot more, too. If you're interested, check out my company site -- www.MacGregorLiterary.com. I've got what I consider to be a dynamite website for a literary agency, and I get compliments on it all the time... but I can't take any of the credit. The guy who created it for me is Nick Francis at Project83 in Nashville. (A free plug, Nick.) There are thousands of experts you can talk to about establishing a strong site -- there's no reason to have a crummy website any more. If you want to check out author sites, visit my "authors" page and start clicking. You'll find all sorts of authors with a variety of styles and choices to their sites.

As always, if you've got a question about books or writing or publishing, send it in and we'll try to answer it for you.

 

 

Does the publisher lose money if my book doesn't earn out?

Brynn asked, "Does a publisher lose money if a book doesn't earn out?"

I get this question a lot, and to answer it I need to beg your forebearance... Let me answer this with hard numbers, so that I can make my case. It will take a couple minutes to run the numbers.

Remember, every business can lose money. Retail shops, service business, even publishers. I mean, if you own a shoe store, you order in shoes that don't sell, and you have to drastically reduce prices, you can lose money on each pair of shoes sold. Publishing is no different. The publishing house pays out advances, they pay an editor, hire a cover designer, buy ink and paper, then pay a printer, and cover overhead such as the light bill and the editor's long distance phone calls. A lot of expenses are involved in every book. I like and respect publishers, and as a longtime agent, I WANT them to make money and stay in business. So I'm just answering a question, not writing a polemic. 

That said, the argument put forth that an unearned advance equals a loss for a publisher just isn't true. (Or at least not the whole truth.) All you have to do is look at some math...

Let's take some big book the publisher is doing with a celebrity. She's created a $25 hardcover book, and the publisher has paid her a $100,000 advance. The average discount a bookstore gets when ordering a book is roughly 50% -- so they're paying the publisher $12.50 for that book. (In reality, it could be less, and there are a thousand factors determining that amount, but let's use a conservative 50% for the sake of clarity). From that amount, you have to subtract the author royalty on the first 5000 copies (the author will be paid $2.50 per book), the next 5000 copies ($3.125 per book), and thereafter ($3.75 per book). Of course, the publisher has to pay for the actual hard costs of the book (ink-paper-binding). That $25 book probably cost about $3 to produce. The more copies they printed, the cheaper each copy becomes. And there are plenty of things, such as cover features, that can boost the price of a book. But somewhere around $3 per book is about right. Some of the publishers state right in their contracts that anything sold at an 85% discount is considered "at cost," so they're assuming a hard cost of $3.75 for a $25 book. At several publishing houses, they have a standard "overhead" charge of about $2 per book, or $50,000 per title. So take the $12.50 the publisher received for the book and subtract author royalties ($2.50), hard costs ($3.75) and overhead ($2). Conservatively, the publisher is left with $4.25 per book after paying all the bills. In essence, the publisher is making more money per book than the author is making. (And no, there's nothing wrong with that.)

Still with me? Okay, since this is a big book, let's say the publisher printed fifty thousand copies and sold half of them. They received $312,500 from bookstores ($12.50 x 25,000 copies sold). They credit the author her royalty of $84,375 ($2.50 x 5000; $3.125 x 5000; $3.75 x 15,000). The author hasn't earned out -- she's still in the red $15,625. The publisher is left with $228,125. Out of that they pay $150,000 on printing ($3 x 50,000) and $50,000 in overhead. So the publisher is left with a profit of $28,125. Even if they write off the rest of advance, they're sitting on $12,500. Maybe they remainder the rest of the books for a dollar each , so they just got in another $25,000 (and royalties aren't paid on remaindered books), so now the publisher has $37,500. Did you follow that? The book did NOT earn out, but the publisher still made money.

Oh, and they also sold the e-book, which didn't have any ink/paper/binding costs, or shipping, or warehousing. The royalty they pay on the e-book will be greater, but the lack of costs means the publisher actually makes MORE per book sold. If they sell foreign rights, they're keeping half that money as well. Over time, the overhead number shrinks considerably, so the per-book profit increases. And this model was created for a book with a relatively high advance -- if we'd looked at a $25,000 advance, these costs would swing toward the publisher's side of the ledger. (Just to make sure you know I'm not pulling numbers out of a hat, I used to be an associate publisher with one of the Big Six in New York, and I had to fill out a P&L form for each book we acquired -- so I know what the numbers look like.)

A couple years ago, a publisher paid huge money to the Clintons for a book. The advance was in the millions, and the book never came close to earning out. The publisher still made money -- and admits having done so. Why? Because they sold a bunch of books. So don't accept the  myth that a book must earn out or the publisher is losing money -- it's just not true. I have a good friend who works for a publishing house and has pointed out on my blog before that the publisher did indeed lose money -- they lost the outstanding $15,625 in unearned advance. I think that's semantics. They didn't actually LOSE money on the book... what they did was MAKE LESS money. Does that make sense? 

Another publishing friend likes to point out to me that the author made $84,375, while the publisher only made $28,125. But that's a skewed way of viewing it... Because the publisher also made enough to pay all their bills and keep themselves in business. The $28,125 is purely profit -- the money left over after everyone has been paid. A better way to view it is to say the author made $84K, and the publisher made $228k. And I'd be glad to compare the hourly rate of any writer, who sits in her chair for days on end, trying to crank out a good novel. Let's face it -- the hourly pay for any writer sucks. 

Again, I'm not saying a publisher should lose money, or that I'm opposed to publishers making money -- I'm not. I am ALL FOR publishers making a profit, so that they stay in business and keep buying books from our agency. And, in fairness, I should add that publishers DO lose money on some projects. If they paid a huge advance and the book tanked, they lost money. If they spent a fortune on full-page ads in USA Today and nobody bought copies, they lost money. But my point is simple: the majority of books do not earn out their advance, yet publishers stay in business... that alone should help you realize that "failing to earn out" does not equal "the publisher lost money." I hope that helps clear up the question. 

 

How do I get an agent?

Elizabeth wrote to ask, "Can you tell me the basics of how to get an agent, when to get an agent, and how the agent relationship works?"

I have responded to this basic question in the past, so let me repeat some of my old ideas...

First, remember I’m a literary agent, so I'm either "experienced" or "biased," depending on your position. I’ve been in the publishing business for more than 20 years, full time as an agent for the last 14 or so. I made my living as an author and, later, as an editor before I fell away from the Lord and became an agent. I was with one of the top literary agencies in the business for many years, and now I’m out on my own – so I admittedly have my own perspective. Second, I’m pretty successful at what I do, in a business where some people call themselves “agents” but don’t seem to know what they’re doing (and, consequently, don’t last very long), I’m fairly well known in the industry and, by and large, have developed a pretty good reputation (more evidence for the existence of God). Feel free to ask around and see what others say. Third, most people who know me will tell you that I’m not an agent evangelist. I happen to know there are some very good things a literary agent can do for you (no matter what Jon Konrath says), but I’ll be the first one to tell you that not everybody needs an agent. And I’m fairly safe in talking about this because I’ve been saying the same stuff for years.  So I’m going to give you my opinion…

When NOT to get an agent:

-When you're not a proven writer. Generally, publishers are looking for great ideas, expressed through great writing, and offered by a person with a great platform. Sometimes they get all three, usually they settle for two of three. (I’ve taken on some unproven writers because I liked an idea or the writing, but understand that I have to work MUCH harder for an unknown author, and get less return, than I do for a proven author… and that's why agents prefer to work with proven authors.)

-When you don't have either a full manuscript (if it’s fiction) or a dynamite proposal and sample chapters (if it’s non-fiction). Without those, you’re simply not ready.

-When you won't let others critique your work. Criticism is how we get better. Why is it the worst writers seem the least ready to listen? (Maybe because in their hearts they know they aren’t that good, and admitting that would hurt their self-esteem… or maybe I’m guilt of psychologizing.)

-When you're not ready for rejection. This is a tough business. Do you have any idea how many times I hear the word “NO” in a week? If you can’t take some rejection, or if you can’t take criticism, or if you can’t take direction, go back to the dry-cleaning business. You obviously aren’t tough enough for the writing biz.

-When you have so much time on your hands you can do everything an agent does. (Right. Like THAT’S going to happen.)

-When you feel like you're "giving away" 15% of your income. I don’t think many of the authors I work with resent my percentage… they know I help them earn more than they’d get on their own. But if you don’t feel that way, you’re probably not ready to work with an agent.

-When you enjoy selling books and negotiating, you know what you're doing with marketing and contracts, you have the relationships with editors to set up your own book deal, AND you don't mind singing your own praises.

When TO get an agent:

-When you have a dynamite proposal that a publisher will fall in love with. The agent should help you find the right house and maximize the deal.

-When you don't know who to go to. An agent should have strong relationships in publishing… ALWAYS ask a prospective agent who he/she represents, ask to talk with some of his/her authors, and ask what deals he/she has done lately. If an agent doesn’t really represent anybody, or hasn’t really done any deals, you have to wonder if they’re really an agent or just playing one on TV. An agent lives or dies on his/her relationships. Make sure you pick somebody who is good at relationships.

-When you don't know about contracts (they are legal documents that govern every aspect of your book for as long as it's in print -- a contract can impact your life for years) or how to negotiate. 

-When you don't know what a good deal or a bad deal is.

-When you don't know how to read a royalty statement.

-When you don't know how to market your book.

-When you don't have time on your hands and don't want to negotiate with the publisher yourself.

-When you don’t want to be the person promoting or selling yourself and your work.

-When you need career guidance. 

If these apply to you, then you'll probably find an agent helpful. 

That said, my advice for finding an agent isn't necessarily going to please everyone...

-Go meet agents up close and personal. Attend conferences, make appointments at their office, or connect at a book show. It will give you a feel for what the individual is like.

-Get to know and trust the agent. Again, I think there are a lot of people who claim to be agents but don't really know the business, so make sure you connect with the person one-on-one and ask questions.

-Find out if they like books and if they're good with words. In my view, the best agents are word people first. (That’s an important point. Just because a guy has negotiated contracts doesn’t mean he can help you with ideas or writing or editing or selling.) Ask what they read.

-Ask who they represent, then go check with some of their authors.

-Ask, "How many books have you contracted in the past year?"

-Look for a full-time agent preferably, not somebody who is part agent, part editor, part author, part Amway salesman. More and more I think this is true. Not everybody can be an agent. (Just like not everybody can be an author, a copy-editor, a sales rep, or the quarterback of the Green Bay Packers.) So look for somebody who knows the job and is sold out on doing it, rather than somebody who is trying to represent people while also doing a dozen other things.

-Go create a wonderful proposal with good writing and a complete bio. This is really the most important step. Make sure to include your sales history and a market analysis.

-Remember MacGregor’s Law of Agenting: Make sure you LIKE the person. There's nothing worse than having to do business regularly with people you don't like. I LIKE the authors I represent. Most are personal friends. I can’t imagine working in my office, having the phone ring, hearing the receptionist say, “Mr Farnsworth is on the phone,” and me going into a spasm of disgust - “Yikes! Farnsworth! I HATE that guy! Tell him I’m not here!” Life is too short for that sort of BS. I routinely tell authors that I’m not the agent for everyone. My personal style is fairly gentle (believe it or not…I’m not nearly the smart aleck in real life as I appear in print), I’m pretty soft-spoken at meetings (people are often disappointed when they meet me). So I’m not the right guy for a writer who wants Mr. Take-Charge. If you don’t LIKE the individual, don’t hire him.

-Once you settle on someone, make a commitment to work with him or her long term. A good agent should talk with you about your writing career. My goal is to work with the authors I represent for the next 20 years, so we can all retire together and still be friends. That said, always ask if the agent you’re talking to relies on a “term” agreement or an “at will" agreement. My agency agreement is a letter that serves as an at-will agreement. There’s no term -- it starts the day we sign it; it ends when we start calling each other names and throwing manuscripts at each other. (I’ve talked with too many authors who got locked into really bad term agreements -- “I’d like to have you represent me, Chip, but I’m stuck with Mr. Bonehead for the next two years.”)

-Understand that not all agents are alike. One person is a “contracts” guy – his focus is on intellectual property rights law and tough negotiation. Another person is an “editorial” type – her emphasis is on helping you craft a great manuscript. Some agents are “idea” guys (they come up with great ideas), others are “life management” types (they will coordinate your speaking, writing, media, money, even your wardrobe, I suppose). My strengths are in “recognizing great writing” and “career development,” and those are two things I’ve established pretty firmly as my agent identity over the last decade. Figure out what you need in an agent, then determine what the agent’s strengths are. That’ll move you down the path much quicker.

I used to tell would-be agents (1) only represent people you like, and (2) only represent good writers. I've been able to hold to that, and have done really well in the business. The authors I represent are friends, and every one of them can write.

So... can you get published without an agent? Of course you can. You can also sell your house without a realtor and draw up your own will without a lawyer. But you may not want to do any of those things, and it’s getting harder and harder to do them well. In fact, trying to get a career established in publishing without a good agent is an uphill climb. It’s doable, but it’s harder than it used to be. A good agent should help you decide on a salable idea, create a better proposal, and get that proposal in front of the decision-makers who matter. More and more, your agent will help you refine your work, assist you with your marketing, and shape your career... not just get you another book contract.

Whew... maybe that was more than you wanted. Hope it helps.

 

Are writing contests a good idea? (and other interesting stuff)

Tiffany wrote to ask, "What do you think of writing contests? Are they a good idea for beginning novelists?"

Sure. Contests are a good way for beginning writers to get into the swing of writing. It means you have to write and polish, you've got to meet a deadline, and you are going to allow somebody else to evaluate your work. All of those are good steps. And there are a ton of contests that are good -- the Genesis contest, the Writer's Digest Writing Competition, the James Jones First Novel contest. Many universities, magazines, and conferences have their own contests as well -- check the most recent edition of Writer's Market or one of the various Writer's Market Guides for up-to-date information. Contests are a great way to gain some needed experience.

Keep in mind that a contest isn't generally a judge of actual talent -- it's a competition between the writers who have chosen to participate. So if a bunch of weak writers all send in their manuscripts, then the winner might not be all that spectacular. But it doesn't hurt to tell a prospective agent or editor that you won a "New Writers Award" or the "Short Prose Competition." Publishers love seeing their authors win awards.

Holly wrote to say, "I have a non-fiction book contract and an agent who only represents non-fiction. Since I also want to write fiction, do I need another agent? Is there a way to leverage my current situation to increase my odds of getting a good publisher for my novel?"

Some agents only represent non-fiction projects (and some only fiction projects, or children's projects, or whatever). So yes, the possibility exists that you may need a different agent for your novel. If you're happy with your NF agent and getting good service from him or her, then I'd simply approach the agent and say, "I'm planning to write a novel. Do you want to represent it? And if not, can you put me in touch with an agent you trust to represent it?" That keeps everything out in the open, and allows you to talk career management with your agent. As for leveraging your current publishing relationship, I'd suggest you find out if your current publisher does novels. If so, talk with your editor. Explain what you'd like to try and write. However, be aware of the fact that nearly every writer wants to do a novel, AND that a non-fiction audience can't be expected to follow you across the aisle in order to read your fiction. Sorry, but it's true -- even great nonfiction sales don't necessarily translate into fiction readers. So by going to fiction, you're really starting over in your publishing career.

Matt writes to ask, "When an author finishes his manuscript and begins to send out query letters, should he have his manuscript copyrighted first? Or is that only necessary when a manuscript is being published?"

This is a common mistake, and I'm glad we have a chance to talk about it. Here's the truth: As soon as you create something original, it's yours. You own the copyright. You might (in a rare case) have to prove that you were the creator, but your writing is yours. In the United States, you as the creator are protected from plagiarism -- the intellectual property rights to your written expressions are owned by you until you license them to someone else. So no, you don't have to fill out a formal copyright document with the government. (And, unlike some people believe, you don't have to mail yourself a copy.) When you sign a book deal, the publisher will arrange to get a formal copyright document filed with the government, and that document should cite you (the creator) as holder of the copyright.

A couple notes: Remember that you can only copyright your unique expressions -- so there's no copyrighting a basic idea or a title. And keep in mind that if you write something for another person on a work-for-hire basis, you do not own the copyright for that work -- you're giving it to someone else, who has the right to make copies and sell them. Oh...and I should also note that I'm not a lawyer, so I'm not giving you legal advice here. If you need legal advice, call your attorney.

 

 

How do I approach a literary agent?

Diane wrote to ask, "When is the best time to approach an agent? What do I need to have ready in order to talk with him or her?"

The best time is probably 11 in the morning. The hangover is gone, but the agent has yet to move toward that three-martini lunch. And what to have ready? Well, you ought to have a book proposal that is completely ready. That means you've got a good description of your book: an overview, the features, the details about word count and genre, and your overall focus. You also need to include information about the market: the audience, the need, and comparable titles. And you'll need to have a complete bio, not just something you dashed off in five minutes. You want to reveal who you are and what you bring to the table -- your past publishing credits, sales history, media exposure, online traffic, and speaking schedule (where, to whom, on what topics, when, and how often). Hopefully your proposal will tell me something about marketing: what you plan to do in order to support the work, who is endorsing it, what you've done in the past that has worked. There will be a Table of Contents that explains to me the scope and sequence of your book (what you cover, and in what order), and above all there will be some sample chapters that are DONE -- written, edited, and polished. If you're authoring a novel, you'll send me a great synopsis that reads like a well-done short story, and you'll tell me that your novel is complete, so I can read the whole thing, should I desire to do so. If you've got a great book package to present, you're probably ready to talk with an agent.

Be aware that most people I talk to at writing conferences aren't there yet. They might have a good book idea, but it's not ready to show. It's like having fruit that isn't ripe yet -- the idea is good, but the fact that it's not ready makes it unpalatable. They're 60% ready, or maybe 80% ready, but they aren't 100% ready. The book still needs writing help, or the idea is good but the rest of the material is weak. The ingredients all seem to be gathered, but the cake isn't baked yet. (Go ahead -- pick your metaphor.) Sometimes I discover I'm the first person to ever actually read the material -- a major mistake, in my view. If you're too shy to have trusted writing friends critique your work, you're clearly not ready to have an agent or editor tell you that your writing is bad. Make sure other eyes have looked it over and corrected the things you've missed. I've never understood why people want to show me their half-baked idea. There's nothing I can do with it, other than offer a kind word and hope they go fix it. So get your stuff ready -- 100% ready. Then talk to an agent.

Susan wrote to ask, "Do agents want to read a part of an unfinished nonfiction book, or do they require a complete manuscript as they do with a novel? I was told at a conference that I should send a nonfiction proposal before it was complete, in order to leave room for content negotiation, but an experienced author friend recently told me that, in these competitive days, it's better to have any book done before querying an agent."

I can't speak for every agent, but I always prefer seeing a completed book to a proposed book. With a completed book, there's no mystery about due dates, no concern about researching the rest of the topic, no worries about family emergencies keeping you from completing it. I find it easier to sell a complete manuscript than a proposed one. That's not to say I won't seriously consider a proposal and sample chapters on a nonfiction book -- I will, if I like the idea and am impressed with the writing. But there's no question that a completed book has a leg up.

Val wrote to say, "I'm a new writer trying to break into the business. I understand that previous publishing credits are a plus, but do prospective agents and editors view e-zines and web sites as accomplishments worth mentioning in a query?"

Publishing credits are publishing credits, Val. What book editors and agents are looking for most is a great idea, expressed through great writing, by someone with a great platform. So by all means reveal your complete writing background. Writing for the web counts in this business. The bigger the readership and the more well-known the site, the better.

Dee wrote to ask, "What are the words you most want to hear from an author who approaches you at a writers' conference?"

Probably "You look younger than your photo." But "you've lost weight" is also nice, and "Let me buy you a drink" is a good runner-up.

Got a publishing question you've always wanted to ask an agent? Here's your chance...

 

What do you need to know about literary agents?

Donna wrote to say, "I heard an agent speak at our writing group. He sounded interesting, so I went to his website, which is interesting but I wasn't sure I could trust it. You have to contract with them for a year and pay an up-front fee of $195, though it's not clear if that is per project for for all your works. Is that the usual course?"

Yikes. Several thoughts come to mind... First, don't go to any agent that asks for an up-front fee. That screams rip-off. I don't know of any credible literary agent who asks you to send him or her a check right off the bat. You can't be a member of AAR by charging fees, and you'll get listed in "Predators and Editors" if you do. Stay away from fee-based agents. (And if you're interested in this topic, I highly recommend the book Ten Percent of Nothing, which offers a fine expose' of scam agents.) Second, you don't want to sign up with an agent you know nothing about. Websites are marketing tools, and some of them over-promise when in reality the agent will under-deliver. I can claim anything I want on my website (that I'm the best agent in history, that I'll make you a million dollars, that I look exactly like Brad Pitt), but if we don't know each other, and if we've never met, HOW IN THE WORLD DO YOU KNOW WHAT TO BELIEVE? Be cautious over sites that over-promise. (For the record, I look exactly like Brad Pitt. Especially if you stand far away. And squint. And are blind.) Third, be wary of agents trolling for business by sending you advertisements. It's one thing to meet someone at a conference, or to begin a dialogue over a submission you've sent in -- most of the authors we represent we met somewhere and had a discussion with, or they were introduced to us by current authors we represent. I think that's true of most agents. What you're describing is akin to a lawyer chasing ambulances. Sorry to sound negative, but this sounds like a scam.

Camille wrote to say, "I have heard the best way to contact agents is to attend conferences. I've also heard it is possible to schedule a meeting in order to have the agent look at your material at a conference. Is that true? And if so, how does an author find out about conferences? And how does one go about scheduling an appointment with an agent at a conference?"

It's true, Camille. There are few venues left for getting a face-to-face meeting with an agent any more, but a writers' conference is one of the best. And many conferences will simply post meeting schedules, where you can sign up with an agent either before the conference or on the first day of meetings. Usually you'll come in with your one-sheet or proposal, make a quick pitch, and have about 15 minutes to talk. You can't totally "sell" them in such a short time (so don't think you're going to land an agent at a conference), but you can certainly start a conversation, make a good impression, and begin the process of working together. To find writing conferences in your area, just google "writers conference" or talk to your local bookseller. You can also check out an online writing group or join a writing association such as Romance Writers of America, International Thriller Writers, American Christian Fiction Writers, and the like. I'm a big fan of writing conferences because it puts writers and agents in touch with each other.

Dale wrote and noted, "A publisher requested my manuscript at a conference. They later sent me an evaluative memo with some editor notes and a request that I rewrite it and send it back. Is this worth mentioning in an agent query?"

Sure it is. Understand that many editors will request a proposal at a writers' conference. Unfortunately, many time they aren't really "requests." They are more "resigns" -- as in, "The editor was resigned to saying yes to every author who showed them a proposal." That's because the bulk of editors, while exceptionally nice people who know their jobs, are also big weenies. They hate looking you in the eye and saying "no, that doesn't fit us" or "no, this isn't ready" or "no, did you stop taking your medication?" Consequently, I'll often hear authors tell me an editor requested a proposal, when in actuality the editor did nothing more than agree to look at it later, so as to reject it later, by letter, thus saving himself from having to tell the author "no" face to face. (Okay, I'm exaggerating. A bit.) However, if the editor has taken the time to review your work and make notes, then has suggested you do some revising and re-submit, that shows genuine interest. So yes, I'd tell a prospective agent that bit of news. And by the way, I think it's great that you wrote to me, since it allows me to not that both Chip AND Dale are part of today's post.

 

What you've always wanted to ask the Agent

I've been receiving a number of questions about authors and agents, so I wanted to take a few weeks to explore agenting. Glenna wrote to ask, "How long does it usually take for an agent to respond after receiving a requested manuscript?"

Everybody is different. I try to respond to people within a month, but this past fall it seemed to take me two or three months before I could read and react to all the submissions. If you'll check out the web site of literary agents, most will offer some sort of timeline in the two-to-four month range. I've heard stories of authors having proposals in to agents for eight or nine months, but my response to that would be: "Maybe you aren't picking up the hint." Look, if you've had something in with an agent for six months, and they haven't so much as responded to your idea, it's clearly not ringing their bell. Move on.

I should also note that I have a couple people who work for me who review manuscripts. Like most longtime literary agents, I don't promise to read everything that gets sent to my company. I work with a couple people who have great editorial eyes, and they frequently take a first look at stuff coming in over the transom. And if something isn't a fit, we may not respond at all. (In fact, it may not be read at all if it's written in crayon, is a retelling of the Book of Revelation, or warns me that I'll go to hell if I dont immediately read and get excited about the idea. Just so you know.)

This question came from Janet: "If an agent has asked you to send in a manuscript, is it wrong to continue sending out queries to other agents?"

Not in my book. The way I look at it, if I'm taking a couple months to review a manuscript from you, then you've got every right to use that time and try to see if some other agent might be a better fit. This should come with a warming: Not everyone agrees with me. Some agents do not want to be spending time exploring a project, only to find another agent is also considering it. So be careful. Research the agents you're interested in working with, so that you link up with someone who's a fit, not just someone who happens to be an agent. Oh -- and one caveat to what I just said: If you and I start talking about your manuscript, and I give you substantive input into your work, that means I've made an investment in you and your career. I'm only going to do that with someone who really interests me, so be cautious of dismissing that. An agent who takes an interest in your work is telling you that he or she wants to continue the conversation. You'll want to be up-front with them if you're seriously in discussion with another agent. I had a tough situation last year -- I'd spent an enormous amount of time helping an author resolve issues with her novel. When she then announced she was signing with somebody else, I was less than pleased. (May her name be blotted out of my memory.)

And Doug wrote to whine at me about agents not responding to his "potentially bestselling" proposal. He wrote: "I had this project in with one agent for nearly a year, and she never got back to me. I sent this to YOU several months ago, and you haven't even answered! Why don't agents do their job?"

Um...Doug, where exactly is it written that I owe you a response? My "job" is to run my literary agency. I mean, I work in the industry. I represent authors. I've got a thriving business going. And... that somehow requires me to reply to everyone who sends me their proposal? Sorry, Sparky, but that's not how the world works. Lots of people write to me. And, uh, not to be impolite, but I've never heard of you. I don't think we've ever met. (If we have and I've forgotten,you'll have to forgive me.) I believe our only connection so far is that you decided to send me a proposal, for a project I'd also never heard of, just because you read about me in a magazine. And you did so apparently without checking our submission guidelines (though they are clearly posted on our web site). So the mere fact I'm a literary agent doesn't automatically mean I owe you a response. 

Think of it this way: If you write to the Mets and tell them you're a relief pitcher, do they owe you a tryout? If you write to Citibank and tell them you've got an investment idea, do they owe you a loan? Business doesn't work that way. I don't owe you a response simply because you can spell my name and have figured out how to send an email. So take a lesson from all the hardworking writers out there -- do some research, get to know some agents, get face to face with them at a conference, and base your writing business on relationship, not some misguided sense of entitlement. 

Got a question about working with an agent? Send it along and I'll take a crack at answering it. 

 

A Series of Fortunate Events - a guest blog from Gina Holmes

It's not everyday that a debut novel becomes a bestseller, which is perhaps why people are curious as to why and how Crossing Oceans made its way on to the CBA, ECPA, Amazon, and PW Religion lists. 

Anyone who regularly follows the bestseller lists for a few months will notice that while the book titles change, the authors rarely do. People like Ted Dekker, Francine Rivers, Karen Kingsbury, etc show up there over and over—making it difficult for a new name to squeeze in. (This is true in the CBA as well as the general market).

There is, of course, no single way to turn a book into a bestseller. If there were, everyone would be doing it with every book. I can’t speak for the rest of debut novelist’s who were lucky enough to break in, but this is how it went for me:

·      I had a champion.

Actually several. It started with a top-notch agent, Chip MacGregor, who championed the book and sold it to Tyndale House. Karen Watson, Associate Publisher there, read a partial manuscript and became passionate about it. She took a risk and gave an untried author a chance.

 This wouldn’t have happened though if the idea had been poorly executed. It took years to hone my skills. Over the course of ten years, I'd written several manuscripts that were ultimately rejected, read every how-to writing book I could get my hands on, and aligned with the toughest critique partners I could find. 

Lucky for me, the rest of the team at Tyndale House also got excited and additional resources were thrown at the book. One "higher-up" from Tyndale commented it was one of the best debuts he’d  ever read. That’s the kind of excitement that helps sell a book.

·      I had a great editor.

 I doubt I have to convince writers how important this is. Kathy Olson saw my vision for the story, suggested changes and heard me when I had questions or disagreed. We listened to each other, and there was compromise on both our ends.  She didn't change the essence of the story, or my voice, which I'm truly thankful for. What she did do is make a good story better.

·      They listened.

Right from the beginning stages, I worked with a team that wanted, and heard my input. They suggested changes they thought would improve the book. They also invited my feedback from everything from the cover design to the portion of endorsement we ended up using.

I was grateful when my (fan-stinking-tastic) marketer ran ideas past me about ad displays and which outlets they planned to advertise with. I offered insight, which could have been ignored, but wasn't. When I saw a PR tie in, I wrote to my publicist and we brainstormed and then acted. Sometimes she pitched an angle, sometimes I did, depending on who we thought would get the best results. There were no egos involved on either end, just a desire for the book to succeed.

·      Serendipity 

A major book chain buyer, (God bless her!), fell in love with Crossing Oceans and got the stores excited about it too. She ordered lots of copies, gave it placement at the front of the store. It was put on sale nationwide, which helped introduce it to readers. I couldn’t have planned that if I wanted to.

Another national chain made it their book club pick. This certainly wouldn’t have happened if Tyndale hadn’t pitched it to them or if it wasn’t a story that resonated, but I’m sure lots of other books were just as worthy. Like I said, serendipity.

Kindle offered it as a daily deal, dropping the price to $1.99 for the day. This also introduced me to many readers who wouldn’t have discovered me otherwise. Again, not my doing.

·      Word of mouth

Word of mouth normally only happens when enough people, the right people, (read The Tipping Point), read a book and become passionate about it. My publishing team took care to submit it to the "who’s who" of reviewers and outlets.

On my end, I worked to gather up early readers and to create buzz. I spent probably on average 2-4 hours a day on publicity. That’s a lot of time, but you only get one chance to debut. Many outlets are more curious about your first book than subsequent ones. It pays to pour everything you have into the first 

It also helped that Tyndale offered up Crossing Oceans as a freebie on Kindle and Nook. It stayed at number one free download on Amazon for most of that two weeks and then stayed in the top one hundred paid for weeks after. That’s a lot of potential for word of mouth.

I had a platform which I’d spent years building: www.novelrocket.com. With a strong base of supporters, it was easy to scare up folks who were happy to help me get the word out. (When you take time to help others, expecting nothing in return, you tend to get the boomerang effect. Hint. Hint.)

This isn’t a conclusive list, but it’s a good representation of how and why Crossing Oceans launched so well. A bestseller tends to happen when you have a well-written & sticky, (again—see The Tipping Point), book, a great team of champions, and an author willing to do their part.

It’s important to point out the obvious—some great books don’t sell so well despite all involved doing everything right. And some maybe not so great books sell very well despite little effort. 

I think God sometimes smiles on certain projects for reasons only He knows, and perhaps some books are meant to reach many, while others are meant to reach a select few—but that’s a topic for another post.

What I do know is that we could try our best to recreate this series of fortunate events I experienced with Crossing Oceans, but probably will fail miserably because most of the best breaks weren’t within our control.

What we can do is to write the best book we can, do as much to promote as we can, hope that our publishing team and readers "get" us, and say our prayers.

 

Gina Holmes is the author of CROSSING OCEANS, her debut novel that hit the bestseller lists and won numerous industry awards, and her latest, DRY AS RAIN, which has been getting very strong reviews. Both books were published by Tyndale publishers. 

 

How is money paid on a book contract?

Cherice wrote in to ask, "Can you explain how money is paid on a book publishing contract? I've got a contract in front of me, and I don't understand it."

Happy to, Charice. First, most authors are paid an advance against royalties when signing a book contract. There's a long tradition of publishers paying advances to authors, since it allows the author to survive while he or she is working on a book. This isn't free money -- it's sort of a no-interest loan that will be earned back after your book releases. Let's say the contract calls for a total advance of $20,000. Typically you'd get one-third of this on signing, another third upon turning in the completed work, and the last third upon publication. (That said, there are a million ways to divide the advance. Some pay half on signing, some pay a percentage when the author completes the bio and marketing forms, etc.) So when your book releases, you're now in the red $20,000 to the publisher. You've been paid that amount, but you haven't earned anything back yet. 

Second, as your book sells you are credited with  money for each sale. That's your royalty money, and with each sale it slowly reduces that $20,000 debt. Most trade publishers in the general market (that would include Random House, HarperCollins, Penguin, Simon & Schuster, Hachette, etc.) pay a standard royalty on hardcover books: 10% of the book's retail price on the first 5000 copies sold, 12.5% on the next 5000 copies sold, and 15% thereafter. Royalties for most trade-paper books are 7.5% of the retail price, and mass market books pay a bit less than that. (Be aware: Most CBA publishers don't pay on the retail price of the book -- they pay on the net price, which is the amount of money the publisher actually receives from the bookstore. And you negotiate royalties on each book. Though CBA royalties may seen higher, you'll have to do some math to determine which method will pay you more money.)

If your book is a $25 hardcover, you'd be making $2.50 for each of the first 5000 books sold. (Did you see how I got that figure? $25 x 10%.) What happens is that the publishing house keeps track of that figure, and applies that as a credit to your account. So if you sell one book, you no longer are in the red $20,000 -- you're now in the red $19,997.50. After the first 5000 copies have sold, your earnings jump to $3.12; and after 10,000 copies have sold, you are earning $3.75 per book. With every book sold, they credit your account  the appropriate amount. Eventually you erase the $20,000 debt, and you begin making money that will be sent to you a couple times per year. Once you've passed the $20,000 mark (or whatever your advance was), it's said that your book has "earned out." Now you're in the best possible situation -- a company is going to send you checks on a book you finished a year or two ago. There's no better feeling than getting a healthy royalty check and remembering that you're making on a project you're no longer working on.

Some publishers pay once a year, some twice a year, and some four times per year. Whether or not your book has earned out, you should be receiving a royalty statement from the publisher with each pay period, stating exactly how many copies of your book sold, what your earnings are, and either (A) the amount of money you are being paid or (B) the amount of money you're still in the red. And by the way, I've used the terms "debt" and "in the red," but an advance is really not a loan, in that you're not generally required to pay back an unearned advance. Does that make sense for the basic economics of getting paid? Feel free to ask me follow-up questions. 

 

Getting To Know Us

We've had a bunch of "get to know you" questions lately, so I thought I'd group several of them together...

Andrew wrote to say, "You used to be a publisher with Time-Warner -- why did you go back to agenting?"

 

I love agenting. I enjoy working closely with authors, doing book development, planning careers, and spending time talking over projects. Actually, I never really got comfortable in my role as publisher – I always felt like a “suit.” Much happier being back on the agenting side of the desk.  

Janice asked this: "It seems like you and Sandra have had a lot of success in a short time -- to what do you owe your success?"

 Most likely it’s my good looks and Scottish heritage. But aside from that, I have a pretty good eye for writing. And let’s face it – an agent is only as good as the authors he or she represents. If I’ve had good success, it’s because I’ve had the privilege of representing really good writers. Go to my web site, select any author, and read a novel… all of them can write. That’s the main reason I’ve been successful.  

Jim wants to know, "What types of projects do you get excited about?"

I always tell authors at writers’ conferences that I’m looking for “books that change me.” It’s true. I get excited about reading a book that will leave me changed, since I know it will have the potential to significantly impact readers. I also look for a strong voice – your book shouldn’t sound like everyone else’s book. If there’s great writing, a strong voice, and a message that has the potential to change me as a reader, I know I’ve got a winner.

Dana asked, "Are there stories that you know right away you're going to be tired of?"

Sure – The tough-guy hero opens his eyes, squints, stares at the ceiling fan, looks out the window, stares at himself in the mirror, and reflects on life. The Christian novel that starts with a rape scene. A novelist who feels a need to describe every piece of furniture in the room, or every article of clothing the smart-but-rambunctious heroine is wearing. ANY novel that wants to re-create Left Behind or The Shack, or correct perceived theological errors in Left Behind or The Shack. And, of course, the romance novel that has a first page filled with adjectives. Yeesh.

Nathan asked me, "How would you describe your ideal author?"

 Great writer. Creative. Listens. Low maintenance. Good sense of humor. Strong writing voice. Wants to change the world. Loves God and other people. Preferably Scottish, I suppose... but I'll give grace to those who aren't.

Denise asked, "What is one thing you'd like to suggest to writers today?"

 Read books on writing, and read classic literature. I love words and books, so I’m always reading books that offer tips on improving writing. That makes me a better agent. 

Jana asked, "Be serious for a moment -- why do you think it's so important to blog?"

Um, I don’t know if it is important. But I enjoy having a place to vent, it keeps me close to people and offers me instant feedback. I suppose the best thing for readers is that it gives them a bit of a peek behind the curtain into what an agent is thinking, and the best thing for me is that my blog has proven fairly popular and has given good exposure to my agency. I don't get that many chances to write, so this is my big chance these days. I do it to give back, because I believe in mentoring, but I also do it because I enjoy writing and this is my best venue right now. 

David sent this: "How do you view publicity, and what role does an agent play in the publicity process?"

 This is the single biggest change in the years I’ve been an agent. We’ve always done editing, and talked through book ideas with authors, and kept healthy relationships so that we could effectively sell manuscripts for authors. But nowadays it’s imperative an agent become involved in the marketing of the books he or she represents. Since “platform” is now king, an agent has to help his or her authors strengthen platform, make an effort to work on publicity, and maximize the marketing done by the publisher. Frequently that means helping the author fill in the gaps in the marketing plan. Most agents probably don’t enjoy the publicity angle a lot (it’s usually the “word” side that got them involved in the business in the first place), but it’s absolutely necessary. So I’ve become more of a marketing strategist than I ever planned to be. I think most successful agents see it this way. 

Sandi wants to know: "Why do you and Sandra attend writing conferences? It seems like many agents are staying away from conferences, but you seem to thrive in that setting."

It’s true – going to writing conferences probably isn’t significantly boosting our agency business. I do get to spend time with editors who are on faculty, and I occasionally see an author with a great voice and platform, but for the most part it’s just a way of giving back. I’ve had several people question why I have spent time at conferences over the years, and the simply response is probably, “Because I enjoy it.” I like speaking to people about the industry and helping newbies navigate their way. Some of us were made with a built-in desire to mentor, so I find it hard to stay away from conferences. Next week I'm going to be at the Southwest Christian Writers Studio in New Mexico -- a boutique conference limited to just 100 writers (and I hear they still have slots available, if you're interested). To me, that's a lot of fun. 

And Barbara asked, "What is the one thing that will surprise those of us who have read you but have never met you?"

Um... I have a soft voice. You can sit at a table with me in a cafeteria and not hear me. People read my blog and assume I’m a loud guy – but that’s only in print. I’m much bigger in print than I am in real life.