Since I announced signing with the amazing Jessica Sinsheimer from Sarah Jane Freymann Literary Agency a few months ago (you can read about that HERE), I have had many folks ask me questions about what it’s like to work with an agent and the various aspects of publishing. So instead of me answering, I thought I would go right to the source – Jessica herself.
So I put a post up on Facebook asking you to send me your questions for Jessica, and lo and behold, I received a ton of them.
I picked the questions that I felt would be most helpful to budding writers, as well as questions that would make you (and hopefully her!) smile. And then I made her participate in a video question and answer session about ridiculous things so everyone can realize that literary agents are actual human beings and not mythical creatures who only read all day long. Though, man, I would seriously choose that mythical creature over a unicorn any day of the week.
Okay Jessica, after a rough day at work, you walk into a bar and order a ___________ ?
Actually, I’m not really that hardcore. I probably wouldn’t walk into a bar to have a drink alone. (To solve that problem, years ago, I started a Google Group of supportive agents/editors that everyone could reach with one email if they’d had a bad day—I called it Emergency Drinks Group, and we even threw a launch party–complete with red martinis Photoshopped onto emergency vehicles, printed on card stock–and decorated the table with them.)
However, if I was in a bar or restaurant or lounge and ordering something to drink, it’d be the gin and tonic, for several reasons: 1) You can’t really mess it up, 2) There aren’t really any terrible gins out there—that I know of, 3) Low calorie, and 4) If you drop it on yourself, it won’t stain. (I’ve actually never dropped one—or anything—on myself for years, but I do like to think about these things, just in case. Plus, far too many people decorate with expensive white couches, and I don’t want to take any chances or flip any cushions.)
If I’m feeling extra fancy, I do like gin, elderflower liqueur, and lemonade.
How does someone become a literary agent?
Most agents start out as interns at agencies, publishing houses, or magazines. They slowly build their knowledge and skills to a point where they can assist an agent or editor—and then start to take on a list of their own. While, theoretically, anyone could decide, “I am going to call myself an agent today!”—well, most agents start by working with experienced agencies, learning through years of osmosis.
How do we know an agent is legit?
A large part of it has to do with their agency and that agency’s reputation. There’s a site called Preditors & Editors that will list those who are, you know, scam artists—and I know we hear about those, and “schmagents,” so much—but that really isn’t the norm.
Look on Publishers Marketplace for deals in your genre. Ask if that agency follows the Association of Authors’ Representatives (AAR) guidelines. Ensure that they don’t charge reading fees. Ideally—and this is changing somewhat, but still, ideally—they won’t accept any payment from you except 15 percent of what your book makes.
If you could go back at any point in your career and change something, what would it be?
It’s funny, because I thought about this for a long time. I actually don’t have any regrets. There are certainly things I could have known sooner that would have made my life easier—but I had to learn those lessons; everyone does. And you learn better if you’re there and experience it, versus having someone tell you.
If I could go back and tell Baby Agent Jessica one thing, it’d be that it’s okay to be different, open, exuberant, friendly. Every agent develops his or her own style—and that’s not only okay—it’s great! Agents vary a lot. And I love that about us.
What makes or breaks a pitch for you?
Voice. It’s always voice. Of course there are a lot of things that could break it, but it’s never the stuff writers seem to worry about most. I wouldn’t auto-reject for a typo, for example. Or even (much as it annoys me) someone who says “Dear Agent” at the beginning of a pitch. Perhaps the concept won’t work for me (and there are many reasons this could be the case). But, 95 percent of the time, it really just comes down to voice, and whether I want to read more.
How can I make my book proposal stand out to a publisher? How many chapters do you include and should the book be complete?
I say between 30 and 50 sample pages. In terms of standing out—that’s going to have to do with all of the aspects of your proposal, including the concept and overview, what’s on the market now (and how your book compares and adds something new), your platform, and—of course—execution.
The book does not have to be complete if it’s nonfiction—though, in some cases (especially with memoirs), it may make sense for you to write more, so that you gain a fuller understanding of the book’s narrative arc.
There’s a book I love called The Art of the Book Proposal by Eric Maisel. He talks about how book proposals are not just this thing you have to do—they’re also a tool to help you focus your ideas.
Speaking of proposals, if a man was going to propose to you over a homemade meal, what would it be?
Homemade pasta, preferably from an old-fashioned pasta crank. If you’ve never made it, you’re missing out. You can blend just about any steamed vegetable in the blender and add it to the dough, which is great fun.
What happens after you say “yes” to a manuscript? Walk us through the process. Are you very editorial? Do you share everything a publisher says to your authors?
I’m incredibly editorial, as you know, Danielle (though you were very patient when I kept going “Wait! Let me read it just one more time! We should move that comma!”). I love that step of the process—I get to feel like I’m helping to shape something, to bring it into focus. It feels very creative.
Then—this will surprise no one—I like to obsess over which editors get what when. If I had a massive, wall-sized whiteboard for all of the projects I had out, with arrows, it’d be like The Six Degrees of Manuscripts (as awesome as Kevin Bacon). I have charts for each author, organized into editor, imprint, house, status, rounds—and all of the important dates go on my calendar. It gets really intense.
In terms of what I share with authors, that depends on the author. Most prefer to see everything, but some just want a summary.
What happens if you’ve been working with a writer for a year but you can’t find a publisher willing to work with him/her?
Most likely I’d ask, “So, what are you working on next? Great! Let’s get started.”
This is the thing: I sign people because I think they have potential. Not because of that one book, but because of that person’s creative capacity. If the first or second or even third book doesn’t work, we’ll just keep trying.
I’m really lucky in that I’ve had some delightful surprises on this front—authors I signed for one project who emailed me one day with “Hey! So I’ve been working on this new thing…” and it turns out to be incredible.
My clients are amazing. I have no idea where they get so much creative energy, but it could definitely illuminate a small city, Monsters Inc. style.
Plus, they’re lovely people—which always helps. I think everyone works best when they feel happy, safe, appreciated, and understood. And I’m lucky enough to feel that with all of my clients.
Awhh shucks. I’m blushing. Though, she could be talking about a different client. Actually, she probably is. Who am I kidding?
Now on to the very important questions. Check out this hilarious little video interview I made Jessica suffer through, I mean, participate in…
And if you are a querying writer, check out Jessica’s submission guidelines here. She’s also the co-creator of Manuscript Wish List, an awesome resource that shares what editors and writers are currently looking for in submissions. Check it out here.
And thanks to Jessica for taking time out of her insane schedule to answer these questions. I’m sending a virtual gin & tonic your way girl…
