Information Flows to the Writer

Look what you people have done to me! I am obsessed. Obsessed, I tell you!

The book-to-film conversation that arose a few weeks ago has been buzzing in my brain quite a bit these days. In my last installment, I promised another article in that vein soon. But then I realized that there are a few other rants I have been meaning to get out of my system first. To my mind, they all speak to the same topic—author empowerment.

So here we go.

Almost any writer who’s been doing it long enough will accept as gospel the maxim “Money flows to the writer.” I hereby nominate a sub-clause to be enshrined in our holy tabernacle: “Information does, too.”

But what is the first thing a writer does when they land a literary agent? The writer puts the agent’s contact information on the contact page of their, the writer’s, website. And as the writer accrues more representatives in their careers, they add still more.

Want to hire me for a speaking gig? Talk to my speaker’s agent! Want to inquire about book-to-film rights? Write to my book-to-film agent! And so on…

I understand and sympathize with such writers. They have worked hard to acquire these people. Finally, they are validated! Someone cares enough about their work to help them make as much money as possible from the rightful exploitation of their growing creative empire. If they’re being honest, they will admit that slapping these names on the website gives them a rush. Their contact page looks busy, alive, and ripe with juicy links. They are broadcasting to their family, friends, and other writers: Look! I’ve arrived! 

But what have they really done? They have given strangers license to talk about them and their careers without their knowledge. Now, anyone can write to one of these agents and the writer will never know that the possibility of an offer is in the air.

Believe it or not, our agents have lives that do not revolve around us. Personal lives too. And those demands take precedence over inquiries about your work.

A writer friend told us recently that his agent had taken a step back because of her pregnancy. He didn’t know about it until his gentle email badgering progressed to an Actual Phone Call. In the business world, bullshit is often cloaked in euphemisms. Fred doesn’t have fire in the belly—so we fired him. We’re looking for someone who can hit the ground running, so we cannot offer you the job. Specifics would be nice.

If an agent is taking a step back, presumably they will spell out to their clients what that actually means before they vanish into a pinprick of light. Suppose, during the time your agent was, um, regressing, a publisher in Varna wrote asking about the foreign rights to your book? How would you know? The Bulgarian editor went to your website, clicked the link which you so helpfully provided, and sent your agent a note without you ever knowing.

“Oh, but my agent wants to make money,” I hear you splutter. “They would hop on an inquiry like that because a sale for me is a sale for them, too—wiseass!”

Uh, no. Go back and read Freakonomics. Every human responds to incentives. Every human quickly figures out how little work they have to do to keep their gravy train running. And when humans deem the incentive too low, they don’t hop on a damn thing, especially if they have more lucrative things to do.

I had two nonfiction articles chosen two years in a row for the Best American Science and Nature Writing anthologies. And for some reason, textbook editors later came out of the woodwork asking to reprint portions of those old Discover magazine articles. Each time, I referred the editors to the guy who was my very first agent. By then, the agent and I had become “friends.” This means that we were stupidly young and occasionally hung out together in Village bars talking about famous writers and their exorbitant book deals.

“Are you sure you want me to handle these for you?” he said, referring to my minor contracts. “I’m gonna make like 50 bucks on the whole thing.”

That’s how they think. I now know better.

Your agent will get right on that foreign rights offer to your book. Really.

In that famous 2005 book by Levitt & Dubner, the authors argued that real estate agents really have no desire for protracted negotiations on the sale of your home. If the price goes higher, you make thousands more, but their commission bumps up by a few hundred. Why work? Better to close the deal and move on.

Similarly, in publishing an agent’s cut of (most) foreign sales makes them a pittance compared to you, so they will be tempted to a) pressure you to take the deal as offered, or b) drag their feet on responding to an outside inquiry in the first place.

At the bigger literary agencies, newbie agents are assigned to work the foreign sales desk. Smart. Frees up the senior agents to make the real money. But what do you think every one of those junior agents learns to say when they send you an email with your hot new foreign offer? “It’s a solid deal. I think we should take it.” Translation: Please don’t make me work harder.

Speaker’s bureau agents have set dollar amounts that trigger their handling of your booking. When you sign with them, they’re usually quite transparent about those amounts. At a decent agency, if they’re only interested in handling inquiries involving, say, a $2,500 or higher booking, they’re supposed to refer the low-figure offers back to the speaker. (That’s you.) But in practice, they might let such an offer slip through the cracks. Many nonprofits and library foundations are empowered to offer speakers honoraria in amounts such as $500 to $1,000. Would you accept such payments, even if you had to handle the travel arrangements on your own, without an agent’s assistance? Yeah—I would too, only neither of us found out about them because the org wrote to our speaker’s agent directly and no one bothered to tell us.

Book-to-film agents are trained to ignore rights requests from small production companies they’ve never heard of, without looking further to see if there are mitigating factors that might mean something to you, the author. (In addition to the dramatic rights option, the interested party wants an option to produce an offshoot documentary about a serious social topic or cause you champion in your novel.)

In the real world, talking about someone behind their back is considered rude. Yet that’s exactly what happens when you route business inquiries to others who are supposed to look after your interests. So don’t. The only email address or link on your contact page should be the one leading to your inbox and yours alone.

Every inquiry must come through you first.

Information flows to the writer.

Yes, I understand you are a writer who just wants to write. Wake up. It’s not that hard to take charge. I am not advocating that you negotiate these things. I simply propose a scenario that works like this:

An email containing a rights inquiry or speaking engagement offer hits the writer’s inbox. Fresh intel in hand, the dutiful writer logs the fresh inquiry in a notebook, then forwards the note to the proper agent: “Hey—just got this note about a Japanese translation. Please check into it. We can talk about it next time we Zoom.” Then, said writer shoots a note to the Japanese inquirer, saying, “Thanks for writing. I forwarded your note to my literary agent. If you haven’t heard from NAME at AGENCY in a timely manner, feel free to write me again.” Not hard at all.

What have you just done? The friendly stranger offering a bagful of cash now knows how to reach you directly, and is less likely to walk away if he doesn’t hear from your agent. And your agent knows that you know about this inquiry and that you are likely to follow up with them down the road. They can’t very well drop the ball. If, after all you have done, they do drop said spheroid, then is that not its own form of information?

Every writer must figure out for themselves how many indignities they are willing to take from all these agents before the writer takes their business elsewhere. What’s your price? Two brush-offs or dropped balls? Three? If you let strangers speak about your work without knowing what’s going on, you may be staying in a relationship that has long ago left you in the dust.

And yes, I know that there are exceptions to this rule. An interested party may go direct to an agent because you thanked the agent in the acknowledgments of your last book. Or the correspondent saw you and your agent speaking on a panel together at a conference. Your point is well taken. But in the real estate you control—your website—the funnel should always be pointed back at you.

* * * 

As always, this is my opinion after years of doing it the conventional way and having it blow up in my face. I'm sure lots of you have had lovely relationships with agents that did not fall along these lines. If so, certainly let me know!

See you in three weeks!

Joe

josephdagnese.com