Funny You Should Ask: What to Ask Before Signing With a Literary Agent

Dear Barbara,

Someone in my writing group has received an offer from an agent for a book she’s been working on for years. After we celebrated her success, I asked her what she was planning to ask the agent before she signs. She—and the others in my group—thought it was odd I’d asked that; they made it seem like that would be a total turn-off for the agent. But knowing how hard she’s worked, it’s silly to me that she wouldn’t at least try and get to know this person a little more before putting her full trust in them! Am I just paranoid?

Thanks,

Little Miss Always Suspicious

Dear Lil’ Miss,

Ooh, can we play “Let’s pretend”? Let’s pretend I am in a disguise in your writing group, wearing a wig and glasses and sky-blue polyester culottes. After you inquire what Kathy plans to ask, there will be a hubbub of everyone’s opinions (especially Trevor, that dude always has an opinion), then a pause. In that pause, I am going to pour another glass of pinot from my handbag (it’s my “let’s pretend,” so I have one of those purses with the hidden wine bladder pocket inside) and with the audible gurgle of the spigot, everyone will turn to me. I am going to sip deeply, leaving an orange lipstick smudge on the rim, and kind of toggle my head a little, bouncing the wig askew. Then I will suggest I get the easel from my trunk usually used in my weekly strip Pictionary games with Chris Hemsworth (back off, it’s still my let’s pretend!), and we can all work together to come up with a list of questions for Kathy. It’s the least we can do—she always brings the high-end cheese.

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Initially, the landscape of what we don’t know seems staggering to consider. But in actuality, we know a lot. We researched the agents we query, so we know the offering agent is legit and is connected with a reputable agency with trackable sales. We know they have subagents for rights like film and foreign.

We go around like this for a bit, but what we soon realize is that while agents all operate within a general description of the definition, it’s the nuances that can and will define who is a good choice to advocate for an individual. We ask Kathy what is important to her.

“Communication,” she says. (I mean, we all could have answered for her; ever since the divorce, it’s her favorite word.)

Glenn is going to have his mouth full, but is going to talk around the Chex Mix and say, “What is there to communicate about without having a finished product? Doncha want to ask how much editorial work is needed before shopping the book?” Then Jacqueline is going to say, “Wait, what was the agent’s name again? Don’t we know someone who signed with her … ?” (Is it me or does Jacqueline always know someone who knows someone?)

At this, I will stand up, hike up the ol’ culottes, step over Madlyn’s Roomba and grab a marker and write:

Kathy’s Kwestions:

As I cap the marker with a satisfying click, the room is silent, but in a thoughtful way. There is a little hubbub about what to ask the agent’s other client about the agent, “Hm, how about ‘what does she do well and what could she improve upon’? Gives you some bookends, so to speak.” Madlyn says, giving her signature snort-laugh.

We look around the room at each other, satisfied: We got Kathy some quality questions, and we helped her without anything other than excitement for her journey. We realize there simply isn’t a substitute for a quality writing community, whether that happens in Madlyn’s living room, a classroom, or online, and we realize that we need to hold those close of which we hold in esteem. There have been big swings and big misses and one time, both, with that piñata full of Chex Mix for Glenn’s birthday, but we’ve been there for each other.

And this is where I remove my wig and glasses and give a little bow and a little wave, because you have indeed let me sit in these rooms, on these journeys as I have answered your questions. I am happy-sad to say that after 10 years, this is my last Funny You Should Ask column. I will still be cheering you from the sidelines (and may even represent some of you in the years ahead!), and it has been such a joy to be with you over the last decade. I hope I have been helpful and also provided a few chuckles along the way. There are so many twists and turns, pratfalls and pitfalls along this wild ride of a career, this impossible marriage of art and industry, and surrounding yourself with a quality team is not only my wish for you but my demand of you. Stay present, ask questions, read each other, care for each other, as, yes, you may write alone, but it never has to be lonely.

Good luck, and I look forward to seeing you at conferences—and someday on the shelves.