Funny You Should Ask: My agent is leaving publishing. Now what?

[This article previously appeared in the July/August 2022 issue of Writer's Digest.]

Dear FYSA,

I heard through the grapevine of my local writing group that another writer’s agent is leaving the publishing world. I’m just starting to query, and it made me wonder: What happens to the authors an agent works with if they leave the industry?

Sincerely,

Surprised and Curious

Dear Surprised and Curious,

Oh gosh, that’s an easy one: They are contractually bound to come with me and remain my colleagues in my new career. If I start a llama farm? They better learn shearing techniques. If I open a Yoga Yurt? They better get bendy. You get the drift.

OK, fine, what would actually happen is that I would have a conversation with my colleagues at the agency to see who would be a good fit for each client. Then I talk to the clients about my recommendation, and they can decide to stay at the agency with the referred agent or decide if they would like to secure representation elsewhere. If there isn’t a clear advocate in house, I will recommend and refer them to other agents in the industry to pursue. They are free to make whatever decision they feel is best for their career. Insofar as their books, if they are under contract at a publishing house, the percentage still comes to the agent of record in perpetuity, unless another agreement is made by both parties in writing. Further, if there are an unexploited subrights like translation, film, etc., the agency may decide to release those to be explored by a new agency. If the client moves, however, that is solely up to the agent and author, who must again come to an agreement in writing on that.

However, as my clients are some of the most delightful, creative, hilarious, and interesting humans I know, I would be eternally bereft and bored in a new field without them. So, I would pitch the yurt. Hard.

[Funny You Should Ask: Oops! I sent the wrong attachment to a literary agent. What now?]

Dear FYSA,

I have been reading your column for years, and I know you say how subjective the business is, and that it’s about right book, right time. Last year, I queried about 25 agents with my novel, getting one request, and then an eventual rejection from that request. I am writing something else, but I am thinking since it’s been over a year I should go back to my previous novel and start pushing that one again. Is there any downside to this?

Sincerely,

Trying to Navigate

Dear Navigator,

Very early on in my relationship with Husband, I learned he was a natural athlete pretty much across the board. Whether it was ice skates on his feet or a tennis racquet in his hand, he took to whatever the sport was and make it look like he had done it for years.

That is, until: 2018. The Gulf of Mexico. Paddleboarding.

Reader, he just couldn’t do it. I would glide merrily by, while he loudly and wetly floundered and fell. The only way to truly describe the roaring and the flopping is to say it was like watching a kraken. Wearing roller skates. On a waterbed. About an hour, several bruises, lost sunglasses and even loster dignity later, he floated, arms across the paddleboard, feet lazily kicking beneath him, as I paddled by. He called out, “So, I think I’m all done with paddleboarding.” And I called back, “We can go again tomorrow!” And he said joyfully, “Nope! I mean I am All. Done. With. Paddleboarding.” And then he turned and kicked his way back to shore.

When I came in from the water, he was chillaxing on a beach chair, and he said some pretty sage words: “I could tell right away I wasn’t going to get it, but I kept forcing myself back on. It stopped being fun pretty quickly.” And I still have to keep relearning that—the power of identifying when it is time to try something else. I can save myself some quality time by having the strength to say, “This is a nope.” And turning my attention to what could be a yes.

So! Is there a measurable downside to going back out with the novel? Well, 25 submissions and one request (with a pass), could be an indicator that you might be krakening it to go out again. Without personalized editorial responses from anyone, I have to make a guess that there is something about the narrative execution itself that isn’t resonating. And therefore, it isn’t necessarily about timing, but about craft.

But good news! You have a new manuscript you are working on. So, I might suggest that the hours you would have spent researching and emailing another 25 agents will be better used to continue to push your word count on your WIP, continue to read in your genre, and lean hard into your critique partners to read chunks of the work as you go. Let’s make yesterday’s paddleboard today’s jet ski.