I’m interrupting the Top Ten again to talk about a most interesting truth about looking for an agent (and a publisher…and a boyfriend/girlfriend/job/sale/mentor etc.).

Let me back up a week. I was pulling pork for dinner, and listening to NPR as is my wont during my kitchen duty. “This American Life” came on, one of my favorites. The episode was called the Kindness of Strangers and it discussed how a man waiting for a train was randomly tapping people and saying either “you’re in,” or “you’re out.” Even though nothing happened to those tapped in vs those tapped out, the narrator noted that he was relieved to be “in” when he was tapped, and he felt bad for those tapped “out.” It is an interesting episode, worth listening to if you have the time (I love the internet and the way it makes wonderful things easy to share).

Because I am searching for a new agent, I was struck by the truth of this phenomenon. We always want to be tapped “in.” Even when we logically don’t see a benefit to being “in.” There is a huge advantage to being tapped in by the right agent, so the up and down of querying and being rejected is wearing on the ego, even if the rejecting agent has — by the rejection itself — proven he or she is not the right agent for the book or the writer. Which led me to the insight of why I like all of the competition reality shows like “Project Runway” and “Top Chef” — except the part where someone has to get cut. I change the channel or leave the room at that point. I just don’t want to see it happen. I know the contestants signed up for this, that they are getting something from the show, even if they aren’t the ultimate winner. But it breaks my heart every time. So I just don’t watch.

I don’t have that luxury in the agent search. Like the up and down of strength building pushups, each query sent and rejected means one more query sent and hanging for the inevitable in or out decision. There is no quitting until the agent offer is extended and — our own moment to tap in or out — accepted. I found the thought comforting, strangely enough, so I thought I’d share.

Although, you know, I don’t know how I’m going to handle the moment when I get an offer and need to tap someone talented and willing to represent me in or out. Do you suppose Heidi or Padma would help? I could leave the room, and Heidi could give her cute smile and say, “You’re ….” No. Suppose not.

Edited to add — I’ve found my method of avoiding the whole in, and out thing, thanks to Literary Type. Works for me!