To commemorate five years in the genre fiction business, I’m writing a series of blog posts about my experiences in the hope they might help new or upcoming writers understand a bit more about the world of agents, indie publishers and the often harsh, often rewarding realities of fiction writing. This is me, Five Years In.
If you’d like to view the previous entries before continuing, please click below:
DECEMBER 5, 2019
PART THREE: “WRITERS PREFER TO EXPLODE FROM WITHIN”
So, about that agent…
Actually… Hold on. Let’s back up a bit so I can tell you how we got here:
It’s the summer of 2016 and I’m standing in the overpacked, noisy, nerd-heaven on neutral-blue carpet global media technicolor shouting match that is San Diego Comic-Con.
After multiple over-the-phone interviews spanning months, I’d finally been given the green light to meet with one of the head honchos of a Major Media Company to finalize the deal for writing a Tie-In Novel for the Major Media Company’s flagship Intellectual Property. The head honcho was kind enough to introduce me to an agent they had worked with in the past so that I would have representation for the deal.
Cut to weeks later and I’m sitting in the American Horror Story murder house (yes, it’s totally haunted) on the phone with a guy we’ll call Agent #1. We discuss my collection, my goals, and the deal on the table with the Major Media Company.
Me in the murder house after my first call with an agent.
It goes without saying that the deal fell through (because – pro-tip – most of them do), but the agent stuck around and decided to represent me anyway. Silver lining it was (as Yoda might say). My options were to lament the loss of a major publishing opportunity or to shake it off and move forward with the new agent and my career.
NEWBIE WRITER CONUNDRUM #2
TAKING ABUSE (OR, WHEN TO LEAVE YOUR LOVER)
Before I go any further, let’s take a moment to talk about abuse.
One way in which Merriam-Webster defines abuse is as follows: language that condemns or vilifies usually unjustly, intemperately, and angrily.
If someone you are working with meets the above criteria in the way they correspond with you via email, text, in person or over the phone, you qualify as a victim of abuse. Congrats!
The question then becomes: How much abuse am I willing to take in order to have a publisher or an agent? How much of my self-esteem is up for grabs in order to crack the publishing marketplace?
Is this a writing culture thing?
Is this “just the way it is?”
Is this – God help me – normal?
The short answer is you should never feel that you are being attacked, dehumanized, belittled or bullied, especially by someone who is supposedly “in your corner,” someone you are relying on to support you, help you, guide your path. If not for the general human kindness of it, then at the very least for the 15-90% they’ll be taking of your profits.
I don’t have a hotline number to leave you with, but if you’re feeling sick about the way you’re being treated by an editor, publisher or agent, I’d start by talking with an established colleague who will help you figure things out. Barring that, talk to someone at the Horror Writer’s Association. Get help. Get advice. But whatever you do, don’t sit there and take it. You don’t deserve it, and no, it’s not the norm.
Generally speaking, writers are an introverted, sensitive lot. Confrontation is not typically our strong suit. We like to explode from within.
And, hey, I’m no exception… until I am.
I spent the next year of my life working in fits and starts.
I sold a story called “Overnight” to a great little press called Unnerving (header is the cover of that book), and spent a chunk of time writing a pilot screenplay with a good friend of mine, but I badly wanted to finish a novel so my shiny new agent could try and sell it. Days after my introductory call, I sent 30,000 words and an outline to my newest bestest friend. A few weeks after that, I got back some comments that were basic editorial suggestions and I did some revising. All good, right? Normal as the name Mary.
A few weeks after that, however, I received a new batch of comments. These comments were more along the lines of major structural changes. Major plot and character modifications. Suggestions of using an alternate writing style. Yikes. Still, being a good soldier, I worked hard on revising the portion of the book I’d written and sent the pages back.
Cut and paste that last paragraph in your head a couple more times.
Months (and months and months) go by.
Finally, I get my last batch of revisions. These are massive. The book has become a book I don’t recognize. A book I don’t, frankly, want to write. It’s not the book I’d envisioned. At all. On top of that, Agent #1 had written entire paragraphs of copy into my story. Like… prose. Dismay and confusion were setting in. The project had gone from being a fluffy, cuddly bear cub to a slavering, 1,000 pound, Leonardo DiCaprio-mauling hairy beast riding on my back while gnawing away my insides. Regardless, one last time, I revised and revised, the whole time knowing it was wrong. Knowing that I was writing against all my instincts, damaging the very thing I was trying so hard to create before it ever saw the light of day. Doubting myself, my idea of what the book was, my ability to write.
[Before I get hate mail, I’m not suggesting edits aren’t important. Hopefully the differentiation in what I’m describing verses editor revisions is blatantly apparent. If not, this disclaimer is for you hot-shot.]
More months go by, my white beard is twenty-feet long and birds have nested on my head, but finally, after a year of revising, I get a response. It was not the response I was prepared for.
To say, it’s less a response… and more of a red-faced tirade.
It’s aggressive. It’s cuss-laden. It’s anger.
It’s abuse.
This becomes the new norm with Agent #1. Expletive-laced emails. ALL CAPS insults. Text-based venom. If you think I’m exaggerating, I’m not. Frankly, it was far worse than you’re probably imagining right now. Trust me on this.
*
Now, understand something else. Something very important:
During this same period of time (we’re talking about 2017 / 2018) my relationship with my publisher is also growing equally strained, equally abusive. Much like my agent, the relationship began well – positive and encouraging – then slowly deteriorated into, at first, snide comments and accusatory emails. Then it evolved into anger and insults. Personal attacks about my worth as a writer, about my sales equaling my importance, about my “neediness” when asking to see copies of contracts being signed (sometimes without my approval) for audio rights and foreign publishing deals.
Finally, with both the publisher and my agent, it got to the point where I was literally afraid to talk to them. I’d see their names pop up in my email and I’d get a rush of anxiety so severe it would sicken me. I discussed quitting writing altogether with my wife and friends. Figured it wasn’t worth the heartache and headache and – yes – abuse I was dealing with.
Part of me hesitates to write about these things because it sounds, I’d imagine, both impossible and embellishing. I can also see how it could sound like thin-skinned whining, especially when coupled with my previous blog posts. But understand this: I am not a thin-skinned guy. I’ve spent decades in film/tv production. I was a music executive. I owned my own business. I’ve dealt with actors, musicians, record label executives, red-faced, screaming producers… in other words, I’m not an easy guy to intimidate – but intimidated, and hurt, I was. Because when you want something, and you are new at that something, you always assume it’s YOU who is wrong, who’s not tough enough, not “getting it.” So you take it, and take it, and take it…
To that end, I’m writing about it anyway. Because the point is to try and help new writers understand some of the things that can happen. Some of the things you may (and hopefully will not, not ever) have to deal with. Hard decisions you may have to make based on interactions with others.
The bottom line is this: You should never feel that abuse is a necessary part of being a writer. If you feel you are being abused by your publisher or agent, fire them, split up with them, get rid of them. There are better alternatives, trust me.
And that’s what I did.
I left my agent and – after making an agonizingly hard decision – got the rights back to my work from the publisher (not an easy task). After just a year of being in the fiction writing game, after getting my first collection published, after getting reviews in The New York Times and LOCUS magazine, after selling thousands of copies, after landing an agent and thinking things were on a roll… there I was: Right back where I started, with nothing.
No publisher. No agent. No books in the marketplace.
I was done. Finished. Worn out, and totally lost.
Three years into my journey, the wax wings had melted and I had plummeted to the hard, merciless ground. My debut book was ashes. My novellas were taken out of print. Everything I’d worked for had been erased.
And yet…
I had options. I had the rights to my work, and that was huge (just ask Taylor Swift). I had some good friends who were willing to give me good advice and, just perhaps, help me get me back on my feet. Inventory-wise, I still had translated editions of my book being sold in foreign markets, I’d just sold a story to Best Horror of the Year, I had the first third of a mutilated novel, and I had a fairly decent sheaf of positive reviews in my back pocket.
The big question was: Did I have the energy and drive to start over again from scratch?
As it turns out, I did.
Okay fine. So now the only concern was that, if I tried again, would the new wings hold up? Or would I be destined to be dumb old Icarus all over again…