What does a great author-agent relationship look like in practice?

On boundaries and the inconsequential nature of the "email person" vs "phone person" dichotomy. (Also: hello.)

::Swivels around in Bond villain chair::

Welcome to the estate. My red velvet housecoat and I are pleased to introduce you to “How to Glow in the Dark,” Neon Literary’s weekly publishing newsletter. We’re writing this for authors at all stages in the publishing process, from hopeful to querying to post-publication and beyond. And we’re glad to see you!

If you’ve never heard of Neon Literary: my cofounder Kent Wolf and I focus on securing excellent mainstream publishing deals for adult nonfiction and literary and commercial fiction. We started Neon to smuggle power, glory, and big advances into the hands of authors who weren’t born feeling entitled to them.

Anything we write in this newsletter comes from that experience and perspective. If you’re truffling specifically for niche tips on children’s books, genre fiction, or self-publishing, move along. Please also note the disclaimers we’ve posted everywhere about not using this newsletter to try and Joanne the Scammer us for representation.

And now:

ON WITH THE #PUBTIPS

Here is a question that none of you has asked, because none of you are aware this newsletter even exists yet:

What does a great publishing relationship look like in practice?

My tip here is not so much the answer to this question as a suggestion that authors ask this question, not just of their literary agent but of any prospective publishing collaborator (editor, ghostwriter, publicist, whatever). A person’s answer to this question will give you a good sense of their process and whether it’s compatible with yours.

There is no right answer. A great relationship looks wildly different depending on the personalities and priorities of the two people involved. Broadly, though, I believe it involves consensus on two matters: 1. communication and 2. boundaries. And the value of each of these things is contingent on the other.

It’s not about whether someone is “a phone person”

Every “how to get book deal” book or blog out there will tell you that it’s important to find an agent who is Good at Communicating. You’ll find plenty of advice along the lines of “if you like text messaging, find you an agent who does too!” Which, sure, that’s nice. But IMO, if you’re trying to find a really good collaborative relationship, communicative medium per se is a red herring.

What you actually want to look for is someone who makes you feel calm when you interact. This is as true in publishing as it is in healthy friendships and romantic relationships. You want someone who makes you feel calm rather than giddy, enraged, tense, terrified, inferior, contemptuous, or confused. I can’t tell you what exactly does that for you. You might not be able to tell me, either, but your gut will know. Do not override your gut.

The calm feeling is particularly important because of what publishing work entails. Authors and these professionals collaborate intensely on material that involves a great deal of emotional and energetic investment and vulnerability on the author’s part, even when the topic isn’t something that screams “for lo, I have bled my trauma unto the page.”

It’s almost inevitable that at some point in the process, your inner child will ride the trauma train all the way to the surface of your being and start screaming and screaming with raw need. (Choo choo!) The last thing you want at that point is a collaborative partner who makes all that worse by reenacting the part of some horrible caregiver from your past: cold and distant, smotheringly co-dependent, or a special, erratic combination of the two.

In other words, you’re going to want an actual adult who has healthy boundaries and respects yours. Whether or not we’re able to consciously recognize people like that, we can usually recognize them by the way they make us feel: CALM.

I’m pretty sure they’ll make you feel calm no matter what medium they’re communicating with—phone, text, whatever—unless you have neurological/ability considerations that really do limit communications channels for you.

Nota super bene: giddy feelings are not calm

It’s great to find collaborators who make you feel confident and excited. That said, if the latter is so intense that being in the presence of a collaborator makes you feel an effervescence of “God I’m so excited this person is paying attention to me and flattering me”-type thoughts, proceed carefully.

If an agent or editor is giving you the special sparklies, ask to talk to existing clients. Make sure they’re not a scammer. Make sure, in other words, that you are truly evaluating them as a potential collaborator vs. a kind of drug dealer—the supplier of a validation fix, a temporary hit for a bottomless need you have.

PS: If you have a consistent problem with validation-jonesing, PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE seek therapy for this, ideally before beginning a books career. No judgment. Anyone who looks at my social media for more than 2 seconds will be aware I also have this problem. It’s just that none of us are therapists here, and we are not going to solve your problem. You know this.

OK, so what does a good working relationship look like with you? And by “you” I mean me

I look for clients who prioritize honest and substantive communication over fast communication, because this is what I try to prioritize, too. Nothing frustrates me more than people who send emails on emails asking to “check in” and “hop on the phone to discuss” but never actually internalize feedback or do the hard solo pushing required to move projects forward. I’m here to sell books, not manage anxiety. And I look for clients who are interested in the same.

My authors and I are busy people whose response times vary. That’s okay. But when we do communicate about projects, we try to focus on the reality of them, not on reality-adjacent productivity kabuki that allows both parties to avoid discomfort. The ideal is that we’re unafraid to say things like “I don’t know” or “no, I haven’t had a chance to read this” or “this is taking me much longer than I thought, and I’m not sure why.” 

Do we hit this ideal 100% of the time? Ahahahahaha no. When one is REALLY REALLY stressed for time, it can feel untenable to stop long enough to even think about what one is doing before one speed-mimes through some of that productivity kabuki (most commonly by promising some wanton, ridiculous deadline) and then gets off the phone. The real challenge comes later. An honest and substantive communicator will own up to the lapse, which, if you’re a people-pleaser by nature, is probably going to happen a lot. And that’s okay.

TL DR: this process works best not so much when both parties are “into text messaging” as when they are both self-actualized and hitting at least a solid B+ in their psychological health.

How to actually use the advice above

Now that we’ve been over what makes for a good working relationship in publishing, here is a practical tip about how to find and maintain a good one yourself:

Articulate your boundaries up front when you’re entering a new working relationship. This doesn’t have to be an emotional share-sesh—I’m just talking about making sure both parties are clear on what their roles are. Then go home and write those boundaries down for yourself. Regard them as not just your marching orders, but your limits. Check yourself whenever you’re tempted to cross them in the name of “helping” or being helped.

Here’s how I articulate the boundaries in my own working relationships:

-The agent is responsible for a deep understanding of industry norms, contract boilerplate, editorial best practices, industry news, work-related conflict resolution, market trends, editorial contacts, and acquiring editors’ taste. It’s the agent’s job to advise the author on how they might place their books as advantageously as possible within broader spheres of the industry, the market, and the author’s long-term career.  

-The author is responsible for the subject matter of their book and the content and quality of their writing. They are the one who has to deliver the “there there” of a book concept, *including the core audience who will buy it.* The author is also responsible for maintaining their mental health, especially their belief in their own authority and self-worth.

-Neither party is responsible for what human beings cannot control: other people’s feelings; other people’s behavior; the fact that any serious and worthwhile undertaking involves sustained periods of uncertainty; the fact that even a perfectly-executed plan sometimes doesn’t produce “perfect” results; the fact the happiness associated with achieving major life accomplishments is surprisingly fleeting.

I know from experience—and one day you will too, if you don’t already—that paying attention to boundaries isn’t just a good thing for all of our psyches; it RESULTS IN A MUCH BETTER BOOK DEAL. An agent who lets the client take the wheel on when and where to submit a project or takes a Kruger Industrial Smoothing “sure, whatever” attitude about market positioning is not going to get you as much money or interest as a competent one would. An author who relies on someone else to tell them what and how to write is going to write an anemic, underbaked, or bad book—that or lose their bearings mid-slog and find themselves enduring the Life of the Mind equivalent of the Dyatlov Pass Incident. Do you want to get crushed under a metaphorical Ural Mountain avalanche? DO YOU?

Having good boundaries is going to be particularly important during the proposal-writing process, because it’s not an assembly line; it generally involves stuckness and ambiguity. Also: discomfort. And TIME. Tons and tons of time.

But that’s for a future week! Subscribers, get excited for our next two installments (order TBD): “Y IS THIS TAKING SO LONG: A Guide to the Proposal Process” and “The one book you should REALLY really read before embarking on a publishing career,” which, because I am a clickbait jackass, is a surprising one.

In the meantime, tell your friends!