Blogger: Janet Kobobel Grant
What does an agent mean when she says career planning is a big part of what she does with her clients? Isn’t that a bit like saying you paddled your boat through the Colorado River white water rapids? I mean, doesn’t the river ultimately have the real grip on your boat, and doesn’t the publishing industry ultimately determine the course of your career?
Yes…and no.One of the key ways an agent directs a writing career is helping the writer though the rough places. And there will be rough places.
One of my clients, we’ll call her Sarah, sent in her third manuscript to complete her three-book contract with a publisher. All had gone swimmingly with the first two novels, and so far the publisher-author relationship was pure honeymoon. But, to my client’s dismay, her third novel was rejected when the editor read it.
Turns out the storyline developed in ways the editor hadn’t projected, even though Sarah had consulted the editor and was directed to emphasize the novel’s setting–a prison. That pretty much meant the story would be gritty. But once the editor read the manuscript, she realized she had misdirected the author. Big oops.
So Sarah was asked to revamp the novel in major ways, making it a different story altogether. And much less true to life.
This is where career guidance comes into the picture. Sarah and I talked long and hard about how to respond to this rejection. Finally I told her I didn’t think she should do the rewrite. The novel she had created was powerful and had a compelling voice. To change it would be to compromise the creativity Sarah had poured into the manuscript.
So Sarah wrote a different novel for the publisher, one that suited its more conservative tastes.
Who but your agent will give you permission not to murder your baby manuscript? Certainly not the editor or the publisher. Together, Sarah and I determined that later in her career, when she was more established, the initial manuscript would find a new home. In the meantime, she would continue to build her reputation as a fine novelist.
Other rough spots that were career-defining moments
- You think the publisher’s cover design will kill your book’s sales.
- Your publisher has chosen not to offer marketing/publicity support of any note.
- No publisher wants to buy your latest great book idea.
- Your muse has disappeared but your deadline has not.
- You’re not sure what direction you want your writing career to go.
- Your publisher thinks your writing career should veer onto a new course, but you’re not so sure.
Smooth sailing in publishing? Nah, it’s not going to last. But hopefully you’ll have an agent on your team ready to put his paddle in the water and work like crazy to escort you through the rough waters and on your way to a productive career.
What rough waters have you encountered? How did they affect your writing career? If you have an agent, how did he or she help paddle you to safety?
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Fascinating post, Janet; I frankly would never have thought that ‘writing a different novel’ would have been a workable solution for the concluding panel of an already-accepted triptych.
* Rough waters? I’m in the midst of them. It’s physically very taxing to write (and I can’t speak well enough to use voice-recognition), but more than that, recent events have bewitched and bewildered my narrative compass. The ‘meaning’ and truths I thought I understood as a husband and churchgoing Christian who used to enjoy a leisurely latte have been stripped away to reveal the vicious and bearded berserker beneath, Heaven-bent for Valhalla. I see life, and death, and the need to protect the defenseless at all costs; not because it’s the right thing to do but because it’s who I am, and the life I loved…and love. To put it simply, ethos has come down to one sentence – “How you die validates why you’ve lived.” And how on earth do you write that?
* It’s the only part of me as a person that ever made lasting sense, and now it has to find a grim and ferocious muse.
* You can’t write CBA or ABA from that perspective. Too raw for one, too viscerally spiritual for the other. So I’m adrift in my dragon-prowed literary longboat, waiting for my God of Wrath to fill the sails that I may assault yet another fell shore. This is not where I planned to be.
* And, uh, Janet, I feel awkward saying this, but I have a sort of implicit request. The expression “…murder your baby manuscript…” is vivid; for someone like me a bit too vivid, for I had to repair to the patio and throw up when I read it. I’ve seen a slaughter of the innocents, and it does tend to stay with you. I’m kind of an outlier in experience and temperament, so my thoughts may not be generally valid, but it’s the kind of thing that in any other forum would have stopped me reading at once.
Andrew, a line I heard long ago (Gaither concert, possibly), comes to mind:
“Old saints die well, just like they lived.”
Shirlee, that’s both great and comforting. Thanks.
Pausing right now to ask the Lord to give you and your wife (Barbara, right?) strength and an overwhelming sense of God’s presence and nearness in your lives.
You are greatly loved by so many who will never meet you in this life.
Sheila, many, many thanks from both Barbara and me. The past few months have been a beasting.
*My prayers are with you and Barbara, too.
*I’m not so sure there isn’t a niche for a raw and viscerally spiritual story. Perhaps not with a traditional publisher, but I believe you have developed a readership who would be drawn into your fictive world. Your unique voice and your vulnerability are gifts.
*”In quietness and trust is your strength”–a paraphrase of Isaiah 30:15 which comforts me in times that aren’t nearly as dire as your own. I pray it comforts you, too.
*Though I rarely comment, I’m always blessed by your wisdom and your perspective.
Johnnie, thank you so much; your words are both honouring and humbling, and they are an inspiration to keep making the best effort of which I am capable. And thank you for the Isaiah Scripture – it is comforting, yes.
* I hope you’re right, that there is indeed a place for the perspective to which both past experience and present circumstance have bent my heart.
* And it is an odd perspective; they say that charity begins at home; indeed, it begins in one’s own soul, directed toward one’s own wayward heart…thus, ‘caritas’. The other side of the same coin is that this goes for ruthlessness, as well, and that sometimes the only true charity is a hard and sharpened edge. True for me, to be sure, since the only way to get anything done and maintain some level of self-respect is to be unsympathetic to both pain and the longing for rest. You can’t idle the day away on a backside you’re busy kicking to engender at least some results.
God’s got the plan. I’m just along for the ride–rapids and all. But I admit to trying to paddle against his current from time to time.
Would I like an agent shouting from shore, “Put down that paddle and go with God’s flow”? Absolutely!
Rapids are an interesting metaphor, Shirlee. If you ever have the opportunity to pass through them sans boat or life-vest (a thrill which I cannot recommend), you’ll learn a few things –
1) Roll onto your back, align yourself with your feet downstream, and cross your hands on your chest. Take every opportunity to fill you lungs, because…
2) …the direct hydraulic line through most rapids includes some time spent below the surface, and that’s where you’ll be. Don’t fight it; that’s how rocks and heads meet. Rocks are generally gracious and, left un-irritated by struggle, will set up a standing wave that will push you away. Well, usually.
3) You will eventually debouch into a place of peace and calm so fundamentally overwhelming in comparison to just a moment before that you will think, even through feeling like a half-drowned rat, that you have reached the Gates of Heaven.
Having ridden a few rapids (with life vest but no helmet), I can attest to some of what you say. But your experience was much more “exhilarating” than mine.
Isn’t it a great analogy to some of the soul-drenching moments in both life and writing?
It is a wonderful and very apt analogy, Janet; and if we trust the Father of the Waters, He has already picked out the best (though perhaps not the safest) line for us to take, riding upon His broad, strong back.
I don’t really have a writing career yet. But, on this writing journey, I’m learning how to work through disappointment and to be teachable. God has taken me a number of places this year I didn’t anticipate. When I’m in the middle of His plan, the road may not be smooth, but I know I’m not walking it alone. I cling to His hand and seek to do the work He sets before me.
Jeanne, uh, WHAT???
* No writing career? Do you have any idea of how many people you inspire with your blog? Do you know how many people – including me – have taken YOUR hand to walk back from the brink of despair, in the light of your shining faith?
* You are a giant, my friend.
Andrew, thanks for the perspective shift. When I read Janet’s post, my mind went right to “agented on the way to published” writing career. 🙂
*You are right, friend. I (and perhaps all of us) need to watch how we view our careers and seek to view them through God’s eyes rather than our own. 🙂
I don’t have an agent but that doesn’t mean that agents haven’t steered my writing. I have gotten some very informative rejection letters and insightful conversations from agents that have changed the way I write. For the better? I think so??? We shall see in the long run. But yes, I could see how agented authors would definitely benefit from the career planning they receive from their agents.
So many times the posts on this blog are timely for me. I’m in the middle of a rough spot now. (If I’ve already shared this here, I do apologize. It seems to be my one and only point of conversation nowadays.) Anyway, my last release has done worse than any of my other three full-length books (not that they’ve done that well, but way better than one has started out). That’s bad enough. But I’ve put so much more into this one–and I thought I put a lot in the others. I’m talking time, effort, money, and…me. I think it’s my best work yet. I know the overall message is very close to my heart. And I’ve had good comments from people who should know what they’re talking about. So back to that rough spot. In the last few weeks, I’ve said several times: “No more. I’m done. I have other things I want to do and need to do. This is not worth it.” And I meant it. So what did I do this morning? I formatted the document for another story (one that has been simmering for a while now). I think I’m crazy. I don’t want to go through this again, and I can’t stop writing. At least, if one has an agent, one has someone to say in honesty, “This is great” or “This stinks.” I don’t know how this is going to affect my long-term efforts. I do know one thing. I’m not going to immerse myself in my next book. I’m going to work on those other things in between sessions. So, I’m done blubbering now. Kudos to “Sarah” for having the gumption to take your advice and write another story altogether! Kudos to you, Janet, for seeing the promise in the original story.
Sylvia, I don’t think you’re crazy. I think you’re dead-cold sane. You have a calling.
* Success can be hard to measure. After my time in the killing fields, I went back to school to begin my late and unlamented academic career. I was a really bad fit with the university world; a Missouri mule in Downton Abbey.
* Except for one thing – one rainy Thursday afternoon, I spent three hours in my office chatting with an older student who was failing, and was thereby holding a pistol which he would occasionally put to his temple. Eventually he turned over the weapon, and allowed me to walk him out to waiting help. Last heard of, he had eventually earned his degree and was doing well.
* My whole career turned on that moment, and was validated by it. Others could have taught the classes, and taught them better; other could have done the research with greater depth and vision. But on that day, on that spot, I saved a life, and that made it all worthwhile.
Andrew, that turning-point moment validated everything you had invested in your responsibilities up to that moment. And the event just goes to show, it can take awhile sometimes for us to figure out where God put us in a certain spot “for such a time as this.”
Well-said, Janet, and exactly right.
* I sometimes think a lot of us are beguiled by what a career ‘should’ look like, whether it be writing or academic or business. But then I try to remind myself…a lot of people had an idea of what the Messiah should look like as well. But His packaging and temporal arc were quite different.
Thanks, Andrew. I used to think I had a calling. Then I decided it was a drive (or an obsession). I try to keep telling myself there has to be a reason. There has to be someone who needs to hear something I have to say. I just don’t know who or what or when. Your experience is an example of that possibility for each of us.
Sylvia, it’s hard to face, but a writer will likely never know where their message has taken hold and changed a life. I’ve been lucky, and have gotten feedback. But for the most part, it’s trusting in God, and sending the message blind.
* And then trusting God some more that it was received, understood, and needed.
Ah, there’s that trust thing again. So easy. So hard. Still working on it.
Sylvia, many readers of this blog could chime in with, “Been there, done that.” Writing manuscripts is akin to a disease–or maybe it’s a gift. Once you start, you don’t seem to be able to stop. Blessings on your persevering ways.
Thanks, Janet. The one thing about connecting with other writers is that they can understand what you’re saying, even when you can’t put it into the right words, precisely because they have been there. I think “disease” is wildly appropriate for me at the moment. The question is whether or not to live with the disease or search for a cure! 🙂
I’ve been traveling this past week, so I’m coming to this conversation late. I hope you check back here, Sylvia.
*Please don’t let one disappointing launch discourage you so much that you quit. I spent years in research, and it’s call re-search for a good reason. Sometimes it looks like everything is going great and then you find you’re on the wrong path. Or maybe you’re on a good path but not quite asking the right question. And sometimes all you need is a few more experiments to get the answer. Success can be just around the corner if you persevere.
*Maybe your latest really is your best yet and for some reason it’s just getting traction a little slower than the others. If you feel driven to write, then you’re supposed to be writing. Please don’t let what might be a temporary dip turn you away from that call.
*I’d hate to see you disappear from this blog, so hang in there! And thanks for trusting us enough to do a little blubbering here among friends.
Thank you for the kind words, Carol. I told someone once I could see the light at the end of the tunnel (just before I took early retirement). He said it was the headlights of a train racing toward me, and he didn’t mean it in a good way! I like your way of thinking much better! And I do trust the folks on this blog–the blogging agents and the blog followers. I don’t always comment, but I read most posts and comments. I learn a lot–about writing and all that goes along with it as well as about how everyone has his or her own mountains to climb–and how each one manages to keep climbing! I need that! So I’ll hang around a little longer and maybe that will help me hang in as long as I’m supposed to!
Hang around a lot longer. We like having you here.
Sylvia,
I’ve done some writing, though not any books. But I’ve been through some times where I wondered if the effort I put into something was really worth it. Those times are disheartening, for sure.
*I think if you hang in there and don’t allow yourself to quit, things will smooth out. You are needed and your books are needed.
Thanks, Carol and Peggy. This is a good place to hang out.
I can only imagine the ride an author takes–highs and lows. The lows must be reminders never to take the highs for granted. Savor the good times. Writers are blessed to have a loyal agent standing beside them, willing to dig down deep, to work with them and help pull them through the tough times. Brilliant, wise guidance. My aunt always reminds me, “This too shall pass.” I needed this. Thank you, Janet.
Reminds me of something the wife of a Navajo friend once said to me – “The biligaana always say the trouble came to pass, but don’t they know that trouble didn’t come to stay?”
Please don’t let trouble come to stay. 🙂 I do not have the porch light on for trouble. Lol.
My father joked that his favorite Bible verse was “It came to pass.” That it didn’t come to stay.