If you read
my journey to publication, then you already know that I made loads of mistakes along the way. Including, but not limited to, submitting my manuscript on purple paper, and not knowing what genre I wrote. I thought I had invented YA fiction, for crying out loud. You can’t get much greener than that.
When I talk to aspiring writers, I often get asked questions like, “What are the best writers conference to go to? How did you know your agent was the best agent for you? How did you know which publisher was the right one?”
Writers conferences can cost a lot of money, and if you’ve never been to one, it can be hard to understand what kind of value you get. So a lot of writers will ask me about finding the best conferences.
I started with what I could afford (read: what was local and my parents would pay for). I was seventeen when I went to my first conference, and my dad came with me. We paid for a day pass, not the whole thing, and it was a conference put on by one of our area community colleges. I only remember a few things from it:
- In one of the classes, the teacher had us write about an embarrassing moment, saying we wouldn’t have to show it to anyone, so we shouldn’t be afraid to be vulnerable on the page. Then she picked me and another writer to read what we had written. Not only did this seem dishonest to me, but I had anticipated that the exercise might take this turn, so I had been careful to pick a moment that wasn’t too embarrassing. (Which undermined her purpose, and cost her my respect.)
- My parents paid for me to have lunch (along with several other writers) with a literary agent. I didn’t bring anything to submit, because I didn’t know you could, so I just asked questions and listened. Which, really, was the best thing I could possibly do. This was the first time I really understood the purpose of literary agents.
- I took a class taught by an editor. She worked mostly with picture books. I asked her several questions during the class and after, and she was really kind. I also remember her saying that a lot of new writers had big visions for their book, and would talk to her in their pitches about what the cover should look like, and the stuffed dog that could be sold with it. I remember her saying, “You have to show me you’ve written a good book before we can have a conversation about a stuffed dog.” That’s something that stuck with me, which is funny considering I’ve never written a picture book.
Was this the
best conference? The most
right conference for me? I say yes it was. It was cheap, and I got my toes wet. Several years later when I went to a bigger conference to pitch my stories, I felt braver because I had gone to something similar before. Considering my experience level, my understanding of the industry, and my financial situation, yes. This was the best conference for me.
I listen to the DIY MFA podcast pretty frequently, and one of the things Gabriela talks about a lot is “honor your reality.” Meaning there are things in your life—financial restrictions, experience level, health complications—that you can’t just ignore when you’re making plans.
If you want to go to a writers conference, great. What can you afford? If it’s not much, that’s fine. Look for something close to you. While those enormous conferences like
RWA,
SCBWI, or
ACFW offer a lot value, it can actually be easier to make connections with agents, editors, and writers at the smaller conferences.
While it’s smart to think about conferences that are the best fit for your genre and goals, don’t get locked into thinking there’s only one or two conferences that could benefit you.
“How did you know which agent was best for you?”
From the beginning, I had a lot of hesitations about signing with my first agent. She had a lot going for her. She was really active in the writer’s group I was a part of, and she only took on unpublished writers as clients because that was her passion. But she had a personality that was very polarizing, and she seemed to often be engaged in strange email arguments or twitter conversations.
Her clients seemed to love her, however, and she had sold a decent amount in her first year as an agent. Even though she wasn’t really a person I would want to hang out with as a friend, I decided this was a business relationship, and my agent didn’t need to be someone who I would hang out with at the mall.
But your agent
should be someone you can respect. Our professional relationship didn’t last long. She was kicked out of at least two major writing organizations, and I routinely saw social media posts or emails of hers that made me cringe.
When a sticky sales situation came up with my first publisher, I realized I didn’t trust the advice my agent was giving me, and that was when I admitted that I needed to let her go. Even with trying to sever the relationship as professionally as I knew how (I had no experience with firing anyone, so I’m sure I made mistakes) it still turned into a big, dramatic situation that my editor got roped into. Yuck.
So here’s what I debate: Was she the right agent for me? No. She made mistakes that I was too naive to realize at the time, and they maybe (probably?) did some damage to my career.
But she did get me published, and I’m not sure that my current agent (who I’ve been with for seven years now) would have considered me if I wasn’t. The only reason I had the chance to submit to my current agent is because an author recommended me to her. And I might not have known that author except that we were both published in the same YA niche, which, again, wouldn’t have happened without my first agent.
So maybe the benefits that came from signing with not-the-right agent outweigh the bad stuff? Or maybe not. Maybe if I had been patient and waited for a more skilled, knowledgeable agent, I would be further along in my career.
I don’t know. And I certainly am not advocating, “Just sign with any agent! It doesn’t matter!” because it definitely does. What I am saying is that even if it turns out you chose wrong, it’s not an irreversible decision.
“How do you pick the right editor?”
I was listening to The 10-minute Writer’s Workshop podcast’s interview with Judy Blume, who I found to be refreshingly frank in her answers. The interviewer asked, “What do you look for in an editor?”
Ms. Blume said, “Someone who wants to work with you.”
And I burst out laughing, because it’s so true and writers so rarely say that.
Ms. Blume went on to say, “In the beginning, I don’t think any writer feels that he or she can look for something in an editor. You’re so grateful that somebody is interested in what you’re doing and wants to work with you.” (You can
listen to this interview in its entirety here.)
 |
Jillian and me at the American Library Association
Midwinter Meeting. |
While I certainly believe editors vary in skill, and that editors make a huge difference in the quality and life of a book, it’s not like shopping for shoes.
I landed at
Blink because
Jillian Manning was so enthusiastic about
The Lost Girl of Astor Street. I absolutely love working with Jillian, but I had no idea when I signed my contract that she was going to be such a fabulous editor to work with. (Jillian is going to be with us next week, talking about what she looks for in debut authors!)
Here’s the thing about all of those, “How did you know…?” kinds of questions. The answer is almost always that I didn’t.
I’ve always done my best to research the options, and then made the choice that seemed like the best at the time. I was always filled with doubts and insecurities, and sometimes I was flat out terrified that I was choosing wrong. Even the times that it went well, like with Jillian. Sometimes you just have to take a leap of faith.
My friend was telling me about a cartoon she saw that showed someone looking at two directive signs pointing down two different hallways. The character could choose between “Workshop on Taking a Leap” and “Taking a Leap.”
Let me be clear that I think researching so you can make smart choices is valuable and necessary. I love classes, and learning techniques that help me improve as a writer.
But I also know that sometimes I’m guilty of taking the workshop (or reading the book, or listening to the class) on how to do something, when really I just need to push through my nervousness and do the thing.
Do I need another class on marketing? Maybe. Or maybe what I really need is to just apply the ones I’ve already taken, even though marketing can feel awkward and uncomfortable to me. Same with writing. Do I need to spend time reading another book on writing? Or do I need focused time with my manuscript?
What about you? Do you have leaps that you’ve been putting off in favor of learning about the leap? Or do you need to spend some time learning so that you can take more educated leaps?
