Blogger: Janet Kobobel Grant
Location: Books & Such main office, Santa Rosa, Calif.
As I read agents’ blogs, tweets and Facebook comments, I’ve been wondering if we’re a bunch of prima donnas. You might have noticed that we’ll often utter such directions as:
Don’t call me, don’t write me, but here are the 2,500 directions to follow in contacting me.
Don’t do this _______________, or I’ll never respond.
If you think _________ will convince me to rep you, well, I’m a shark so I won’t be taking that bait.
We’re not just snippy with people we don’t know, either. We’re in the habit of regularly rolling our eyes about certain behavior from our clients. It occurred to me that it might be enlightening for you to see how sometimes our clients’ behavior drives us mad and makes us look like prima donnas. This week I’m going to create a takeoff of good cop, bad cop by describing behavior of a sampling of my clients who, this week anyway, are playing good client, bad client. They’ll probably swap roles next week.
I want to start out by saying I love working with my clients. They’re a great group of writers, who are laboring away at this creative venture, which seems to require a more dynamic set of skills with each wave of change on an already roiling sea. It takes real guts to stay a writer. I’m proud of them for keeping on course, applying their considerable talents to touching others’ lives, and remaining steadfast even when they’re hit by bad news. But sometimes, I just can’t imagine what a certain client was thinking…
First up: One of my clients has been a saint in her patience. A publisher offered a contract and sent the contract to me nine months ago. I responded with some pretty aggressive changes I wanted to negotiate. Yet, until last week, that contract hasn’t moved forward. No amount of phone calls, demanding emails, or moving up the publishing house organizational chart has budged the contract negotiations. Then, last week, I finally received a response to my suggested contract changes. (I had shopped the project elsewhere meantime since this wasn’t looking promising, but I hadn’t landed it with a new publisher yet.) I emailed my client to announce that we were actually moving forward…but she didn’t receive my email.
And her patience wore out. She rifled off an email to the editor in essence saying, “How long do you think I’ll wait? I’m beyond frustrated. Cough up the contract. Oh, and I’m attending a conference where you’ll be on the faculty. Wanna meet me and explain to me about the delay in person?”
The editor responded that the delay in moving the contract forward was mostly her fault, and yes, she would meet with my client at the conference–and she copied me on the communication, something my client hadn’t thought to do.
As I read the interchange between the two, I knew my client had committed a faus paux. She had taken business matters into her own hands and complained to the editor. What did it gain my client? She felt better for saying what she thought. What did she lose? My control of the situation. I had just gone back to the publisher and dug in harder on an issue the publisher didn’t want to change in the contract. Now I had a rogue client to deal with. My client’s job is to not even acknowledge negotiations are going on (or not going on). She gave up our higher ground just when I was pressing in on a very important aspect of the contract, in essence tossing me off the negotiating cliff. Oh, thanks. I didn’t want this to be too easy. My response to my client probably had the scent of prima donna about it; I was not happy.
Not only was I distressed at what my client had said in her email, but I also was miffed that my client didn’t copy me on her important communication with the editor. I don’t need to be involved in every little communication between the editor and my client, but I do need to be aware that my client has decided to issue a complaint.
Sometimes an agent’s client is the agent’s worst enemy, making it hard for the agent to take care of the client. If your agent can’t move the negotiations forward, you won’t be able to either.
Principle #1 to learn from this: Never fire off an emotional email to an editor (or anyone else at a publishing house). If you want to whine, complain or utter expletives, do it with your agent. I understand how frustrating publishing can be. I’ve been a writer, I’ve been an editor, and now I’ve been an agent for almost 25 years. I grasp how utterly helpless, angry, and at wit’s end an author can feel. Your agent is a safe place to let off steam. Anyone connected to the publishing house is an unsafe place–that person has a vested interest with the publisher, not with you.
Principle #2: Include your agent in conversations of consequence. In this situation, the editor might develop a strong dislike for my client before they even have a chance to form a working relationship. If my client had mentioned to me that she was going to write such an email, I would have told her not to. If she missed that first stop sign and barreled into the intersection but took me along for the ride (by cc-ing me), I could have joined the conversation and tried to control the damage.
The bottom line in this situation: I was upset not just because my client’s actions made my job harder; I was overwrought because my client made the situation worse for herself. Now, if that’s a prima donna response, just call me Queen of Donnas.
Now it’s your turn:
What other types of communications should you include an agent in? If you don’t have an agent, what conversations do you wish you had someone to undertake on your behalf?
This is exactly why authors have agents, in my opinion, Janet. I believe in being proactive, but I’ll leave it up to my agent to chart the best course when navigating the publishing waters. I’ll freely admit–she’s the expert, I’m not.
(Oh…how should we address you at ACFW? “Her Majesty” or just “Donna?”) *KIDDING* of course!
Blessings!
Cynthia, a mere bow should suffice. 🙂
A wonderful reminder that, as clients, we owe it to our agent to communicate our feelings and frustrations in regards to the parts of the business that agent is involved in. AND also a nudge to agents to be sure to let you clients know that you WANT to hear this stuff. I’ve known writers who were afraid to “bother” their agent. That’s not a healthy relationship IMHO. But it took me a while to realize I didn’t have to be afraid of my agent being annoyed if I asked her a question now and then. It’s a learning curve.
Ouch. I’ve sent regretable e-mails maybe twice in my life, but man, I still blush to think of them. This example goes for most businesses, I think. I’ve been in situations where I thought, “If I were in charge, I’d ___________,” only to find out later that would have been a terrible idea due to circumstances I wasn’t aware of. Thanks for the reminder–and thank your client for the use of the painful example!
Queen of Donnas. That was cute! This is a great reminder. Not only is patience a virtue but communication is very important. And what I mean by that is between agent and author.
Thank u for this post!
How can you be a prima donna when you’re not trying to be famous? Most readers don’t even know agents exist. And you’re certainly not showing off to expect people to let you do your job.
In my humble opinion, a tantrum would have been justified, but it sounds like you handled the situation like a grown-up. As a Christian I believe God can use anything for good and that incident may help lots of writers and agents in the future because you’ve shared it here.
Stephanie, thank *you* for the reminder that we agents need to constantly encourage this kind of communication. Since we see the fallout of the lack of communicating, it’s easy for us to forget that our clients are aware we carry nonstop, heavy workloads. And that awareness sometimes translates to hesitating to contact us.
I don’t have an agent, but I don’t see the point of having one work for you if you’re going to insert yourself into communication that is within their area of expertise. I’m fine with letting the agent take control. Not because I’m not involved, but because anyone I work with is going to have been representating authors a lot longer than I’ve been one.
I would appreciate an agent’s insight into my contract. I had an attorney review the one for my first book, but he wasn’t specifically a lawyer for authors. I’m not sure I would know what aspects of a contract would need to be negotiated or how to go about it, without the help of an agent.
Thanks for this article, Janet. I look forward to more this week.
Queen Donna,
Having not yet experienced the writer-agent-editor scenario, it would seem to me that any communication between writer and editor before the contract was signed would be ill-advised.
Also, despite venting to one’s agent being deemed as “safe,” I suspect that too much would stress that relationship to the point of breaking.
Someday I will have an agent and will know such things from experience. Until then, I can only speculate.
Thank you for sharing an enlightening experience.
Thanks for laying out the principles for agent/author working relationships. I’ve heard that the agent should always be the go-between the author and editor if there is a problem. Great advice.
Peter, as in all relationships–friends, spouse, family, colleagues–venting works to a degree. But everyone in our lives eventually wearies of unending “drama.” Agents are no exception. Although we agents do vent with each other at times. That’s one of the nicest parts of having other agents in one agency. We can complain to each other and tend to receive empathy in response.
As a writer seeking an agent, I can only applaud your actions and sigh with regret at your client’s faux pas.
I signed my first contract without benefit of agent. I will NOT do it again.
In all fairness, I believe I was treated quite well, but I was on tenterhooks most of the time. Having an agent would have given me much more confidence.
Since contracts have come up a couple of times in this conversation, let me say that agents are a special benefit in this regard. We often sell project after project to a publisher and therefore have a template contract that’s just for our agency that the publisher will pull out when we make a sale to them. Our template reflects all the changes we’ve negotiated thus far on the publisher’s contract. And we don’t give up on certain points that we think the publisher should adjust. We gather additional arguments to change certain language, and especially if other agents are balking over it, the publisher may eventually relent. So we keep improving that contract for all of our clients. That’s not something an individual author can do unless he or she is extremely prolific and book sales are clipping along well.
If you find yourself agentless but with a contract in hand, hiring an attorney who regularly works with publishing contracts is the next best route to go. Although I do have to say, attorneys have a different agenda when they look at a contract. They have to find many items to change since they charge based on time, and sometimes they don’t grasp the long-term affects of what they’re asking for because they step into your career at one point in time and then step away. They don’t have the chance to see the affects of the wording they incorporated into the document. Nor are they likely to negotiate your advance and royalties.
Janet, I look forward to this series and hope I don’t see too many examples of stupid things I’ve done myself.
I probably err in the other direction about communication with my agent. I even copy her on information about reviews, blog interviews, signings, etc. Why? I never know when this information might be helpful to her in future negotiations or maintaining a current relationship with a publisher.
Thanks for sharing this experience.
Janet, I just saw this post… looks like we’re in synchronicity since my post today is very similar! (But I wrote it several days ago, I promise!)
Great examples and advice here.
I read your post with great interest. I was a professional contract negotiator, and until it became my profession, I hadn’t a clue how long a contract can take to finalize.
I’m not sure how big the publishing house is you’re negotiating with, but the bigger it is, the more layers there are. In addition to the many layers, you have to account for budget cuts, job cuts and projects that get put on hold.
Unless one is emerged in this world, a person may not understand the meaning ‘a long time’ means 12+ months longer than one can possibly imagine.
Unfortunately for you, when frustrated will go around you, leaving you to clean up the mess.
There is nothing you can do to correct the past, but maybe you should have a section on your website about contract negotiation delays. Point out exactly what you did, but emphasize the damage this could cause them.
I hope all your clients don’t act this way. Personally, I’d be thrilled if you told me you wanted to represent me and put my trust that you’d have the experience to represent me better than I could.
Reading this makes me that much more grateful I trust my agent really is a safe place.
Great eye-opening post.
~ Wendy
Richard, most agents do want to know about reviews, books signings, etc. Often we use that sort of info in helping to present you to a publishing house, and we know what info is valuable to include in your next proposal.
Rachelle, I’m off to read your blog; since ours seem to be related, I’d say it indicates we’re speaking on behalf of many agents about a common problem.
Obviously your client made a mistake contacting the editor with your knowledge. She should have asked you to send the e-mail on her behalf like:
“My client is very frustrated for waiting over nine months for your response and she’ll like to know how long she has to wait. She really wants you to respond to calm her down.”
That was the proper way to appraoch it. In some fairness to your client, nine months is a very long time to wait without knowing what is going on. Obviously, you did the best for her by being aggressive in the negotiation. One might wonder if you could ask your client, after maybe six months, if it’s better to accept a contract with not so good terms, just the Editor will accept and publish the book. Best wishes to you and your client in happy ending.
Giori, while it’s painful to wait 9 months for a contract, once that document is in place, you have to live with it for the life of the book. And certain elements in this contract were pretty unlivable. Plus it was tied up, not only because I was asking for changes but also because the publisher was preoccupied with major changes in-house–not to mention the editor not realizing it had been put in her email in box by the “higher-ups” without her noticing it for several months. All in all, the situation was a mess. And it’s not like anyone at the publishing house was communicating with me about the contract’s status. Neither emails nor phone calls were responded to. It was a mess.
Thanks for the clarification, Janet. There was no communication, even when you were pressing to have one. No communication is very frustrating, because it doesn’t even allow you to negotiate. Hoping for a happy ending.
P.S. I guess that if some clients think that agents are prima donnas (I don’t by the way), surely some agents think that editors and publishers are prima donnas as well.
It’s always interesting to gain insight through such peeks behind the scenes of someone else’s job in the publishing industry. Authors can easily assume that agents possess all the clout necessary to move negotiations at a fast clip once a publisher expresses interest. This post is a good reminder that publishing houses also suffer from the same ailment as every other industry–the employees are human. Human interaction sometimes creates heat and friction. So nice that agents are available to take some of that heat and to eliminate as much of the friction as possible–when authors let them!
I’m taking copious notes as a newly agented writer, Janet. I’ll admit that it’s a whole paradigm shift to have someone advocating for me now. But what a privilege and blessing!
(I’m practicing my bow along with Cynthia for when I meet you at conference.) 🙂
Are agents prima donnas? I can’t answer that, but I applaud you for even raising the question. Both in blogs and at conferences I’ve noticed that some agents exhibit attitudes that seems a bit loftier than necessary. Perhaps the upcoming writers who visit their blogs encourage such attitudes by leaving comments that can come across as fawning, patronizing. (At least, the comments sometimes sound that way to me.) In an industry where there will always be a mix of newbies and professionals, those agents who can maintain professionalism without looking down too much on amateurs (those who are still on the level where their top-selling authors used to be) will be especially appreciated.