What I Hope Never Changes In Me, the Writer
Whenever I begin the agent search anew, I have to take a hard look at myself, the writer. I ask the questions that I may have avoided asking while I had the mantle of “agented writer” to protect me from making a public fool of myself. The “Does this premise make me look lame?” type of questions that we are seldom able to answer honestly for ourselves. Just like we rely on our best friends to keep us from wearing something truly hideous, writers often rely on an agent to prevent us from sending out a manuscript with a giant maw of a black hole in the middle.
Without an agent, and with so many years in the business, I am conscious that there’s no safety net when I send out a query. I am also conscious that some “mistakes” I make may save me from a mismatch down the road. If, in my anxiety and haste, I overlook a typo and an agent deems me unprofessional? That’s likely to save me some anxiety in the future, because I’m not a perfect proofreader. I’m pretty good, but not perfect, and I would like an agent that doesn’t mind an occasional typo. [NOTE: If you are reading this, and are horrified at the idea of a typo being acceptable, relax. I don't quibble with anyone else's standards being set at perfection. I envy you. I just know myself pretty well after all these years. I had to give up on perfection about three years ago, to keep my blood pressure at a healthy rate.] I have learned what works for me, after five agents and umptydumpty years of writing. I strive to trust myself, while still keeping an ear out for useful advice.
When I first began to query, I had some pretty good mentors to give me advice. Some of that advice is just now (decades later) beginning to sink in. I always took the advice seriously, don’t get me wrong. But there is a huge difference between understanding advice and believing it (as I demonstrated in the paragraph above this one, I still don’t believe in the “must be perfect before submitting” advice). [NOTE: None of my mentors ever gave me that particular piece of advice, though I have heart it from many other sources. Instead, my mentors opted for the "the best you can do" and "let it sit before you do your final edit" advice. And some of my mentors are bestsellers.]
One thing I always hope to do is to have an open mind — in writing and in life. At the times when my mind springs shut like a steel trap on a certain prejudice or suspicion, I pay attention (I can practically hear the sproing inside my head). I pry open the steel trap and check to see if it caught on anything worth catching, or if the prejudice or suspicion can be set free. I’m doing that now, as I look back over the advice I’ve read and heard over the past decades. Some of the advice I’ve taken in through the years only applies to new writers. Some of it only applies to published writers. Some of it only applies to bestsellers. But all of it has to come out, have the cobwebs cleaned off, and be reexamined. If nothing else, taking a new look at old advice is a great way to while away the waiting time. It may even lead me to new insight.
Next Up — Evaluating The Top Ten “Truths” About the Agent Search
