Looking for an Agent

it, and part of me feels utterly like an ass. Like a poser. A wannabe. Only professionals have agents, right?

I’ve been writing since I was a tween. Living in a small town with parents who’d never gone to college, and a mother who never finished high school, I had no idea how to get published. I discovered that by editing my high school paper I could publish my own stories, but that felt like cheating.

In my days of formal schooling, publication became purely academic. Serious scholars published serious papers. I tried to have some of my poetry published in my college literary magazine, but the editors said it was too depressing.

Although I’ve been writing fiction since the 1970’s, I didn’t start trying to publish it until 2009. I was scared and unsure of myself. My first publication won a small prize, and a subsequent story won a more competitive recognition. Those who publish books, however, were less kind.

I tried to find an agent. Young—well, not really young, but naive—and not knowing how it worked, I sent pitches and received form letters back telling me that my work held no interest for serious literary types. I’ve held that experience close to my heart.

When my Medusa novel was done, and I knew it was good—a writer knows when something they’ve done is good—I eagerly sought an agent. No one got was I was trying to do. An independent publisher accepted it eagerly, then cancelled their contract.

I fear agents. I need an agent. Screwing up my courage once again, I found an agent with a perfect profile. Her website said, in friendly tones, that she was accepting queries. I sent a query only to receive an email stating she was not accepting queries and my email would be automatically deleted. Why don’t I trust agents?

A second possibility appeared. Trembling, I sent my query. Immediately I received an email back saying mine was rejected (there was no attachment) because of the high probability that it was spam.

I will persist, but I will always feel foolish for doing so. Until I have a contract that is actually honored, I will feel that my voice is simply of no interest to the publishing elite.

Comments

Patterns

There’s a pattern I’m noticing. For fiction publishers. Even if you aim low you’ll find it a struggle. Part of the reason is the pattern. Lots of websites list publishers. The smaller, hungrier presses either eventually close or get to a place where they require an agent to get in. That’s the kiss of death. Although my stories have won prizes, and been nominated for prizes, I can’t get an agent interested. I’ve queried well over a hundred, so the agent route is one of diminishing returns. This too is a pattern. Back to the smaller presses. I check many lists. What I write, you see, is highly idiosyncratic. It’s literary but it’s weird. Publishers don’t know what to do with it. If a smaller press published stuff like this, I’d find it. The pattern includes writers who never get discovered. Ironically, a number of editors of fiction literary magazines (mostly online) tell me they enjoy my wor...

Creative Righting

Rejection of my writing is a rejection of my imaginative world. That’s why I was cheered by the acceptance of one of my stories this week. That makes number 31. I’ve been working on a lot of fiction lately, even as nonfiction book number 6 is going to press. The ideas are still there, and bizarre as ever, but publishing venues just aren’t welcoming. The other day I had lunch with a professor whose wife is also a professor. She just had her first novel published, and so he pointed me to her indie publisher. I went to their website to learn that they’re closed to submissions. I have to admit that my latest accepted story, “Creative Writing Club,” was probably given the green light because I know the editor. That seems like a pretty dicey way to get any notice, doesn’t it? You have to know the right people even in the low circulation world. My fiction is difficult to classify. It’s got speculative elements to it. ...

Maybe Okay

A couple pieces of encouraging news, perhaps, dear struggling writers. I had a couple short stories accepted for publication in recent weeks. As a fellow writer recently said, “You've got to keep trying. Somebody will like what you wrote.” That’s a bit of sunshine. And it’s likely true. But the stories: “The Crossing,” about two men in a boat trying to cross the Atlantic, was accepted by JayHenge Publishing. JayHenge is a small, but paying publisher. I was flattered when they wanted it for their Masque & Maelström: The Reluctant Exhumation of Edgar Allan Poe anthology. Being associated with Poe in any way feels good. The second story, “St. Spiders’ Day,” had been brewing in my mind for years—yes, this is a long game! A friend pointed me to The Creepy podcast. Since the story hadn’t been written, I followed their guidelines of what they wanted. It worked. I recently heard a successful wri...

K. Marvin Bruce

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