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.