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dr_pretentiousIf you just want the big news, skip right down to Agent/Bachelorette #3.
Agent/Bachelorette #1 was very keen on the Big Book, right up until the Fatal Word Count Question. After that, she didn't want to see this book, but hoped I would query her when I finished the Little Book. Typical pitch session. That's what usually happens, and that's what I expected all four appointments to be like.
Agent/Bachelorette #2 was pretty interested in the Big Book, and when she came to the Fatal Word Count Question, she had some useful things to say about her experience working with another author who had exactly the same problem. She took the guy on before he figured out where to cut his first book in half, worked with him through the revisions, and sold it to a fine house, where it has enjoyed fine sales and glorious reviews. I'd read the reviews when it came out, and wow, they really were glorious. We should all be so lucky. Maybe I will be. Agent/Bachelorette #2 asked me to send her the first chapter.
Agent/Bachelorette #3 had the most enthusiastically favorable response to the Big Book that I've ever seen in someone who wasn't already a lifelong friend of mine. Her questions were sharp, and she liked every answer she got. She didn't even ask the Fatal Word Count Question. Back at Writer's Weekend, other agents advised me to stop admitting to the word count, so I momentarily considered not mentioning it, but then she started writing her email address in my notebook and telling me that she wanted me to send the whole manuscript right away. "Um," I said, "the whole manuscript is 300K." And I braced for the usual death blow. She didn't even look up from writing. Completely unfazed, she said, "We can fix that. It won't go to press at that length, but if your writing style lives up to your ideas, a way will be found to work around the problem."
Well. How about that?
Agent/Bachelorette #4 was tired after taking pitches for two hours, and was borderline hostile, though she seemed to be trying not to be. She opened with the Fatal Word Count Question. I fessed up immediately, and the look on her face was such that I followed it up by saying, "Perhaps I should give you back the rest of the ten minutes?" Because if the answer is obviously no, sometimes stopping right away is the best option for both parties. "You're entitled to your ten minutes," she said. I tried talking about my other projects, but she came back to, "But this one is still too long for the market." Yes, I get that. I tried general questions about the industry, talking to her as a resource rather than as a person who was in any danger of ever representing me. Every answer came back to, "You do realize 300K is too long, though." Yes, yes, I said so in the first place. And if it weren't for the fact that several agents have asked to see partials anyway, even after knowing the word count, I would long ago have stopped bothering to pitch this book and would have concentrated only on finishing the short one. "People ask to see it?" she said, shocked. "How does that go?" As if she suspected me of making it up. Really, if I were the kind of person who could lie about the reception the ms was getting, I could have just lied about the word count in the first place. Whatever. I sketched out how that's gone, and all she had to say about it was...wait for it..."But 300K is too long." And then, mercifully, my ten minutes were up. It was the most awkward pitching experience I've ever had. It was clear from thirty seconds in that there was nowhere for it to go, but there was no polite way I could make it stop.
Fortunately, after the bizarre success of the third pitch, I wasn't in any danger of taking the fourth one personally.
So, I've sent a delicate message to the agent who currently has the long partial, letting her know that there have been other requests for materials, and that one of them may play out unusually quickly. I guess I'll find out soon what the answer was to yesterday's etiquette question.
Agent/Bachelorette #1 was very keen on the Big Book, right up until the Fatal Word Count Question. After that, she didn't want to see this book, but hoped I would query her when I finished the Little Book. Typical pitch session. That's what usually happens, and that's what I expected all four appointments to be like.
Agent/Bachelorette #2 was pretty interested in the Big Book, and when she came to the Fatal Word Count Question, she had some useful things to say about her experience working with another author who had exactly the same problem. She took the guy on before he figured out where to cut his first book in half, worked with him through the revisions, and sold it to a fine house, where it has enjoyed fine sales and glorious reviews. I'd read the reviews when it came out, and wow, they really were glorious. We should all be so lucky. Maybe I will be. Agent/Bachelorette #2 asked me to send her the first chapter.
Agent/Bachelorette #3 had the most enthusiastically favorable response to the Big Book that I've ever seen in someone who wasn't already a lifelong friend of mine. Her questions were sharp, and she liked every answer she got. She didn't even ask the Fatal Word Count Question. Back at Writer's Weekend, other agents advised me to stop admitting to the word count, so I momentarily considered not mentioning it, but then she started writing her email address in my notebook and telling me that she wanted me to send the whole manuscript right away. "Um," I said, "the whole manuscript is 300K." And I braced for the usual death blow. She didn't even look up from writing. Completely unfazed, she said, "We can fix that. It won't go to press at that length, but if your writing style lives up to your ideas, a way will be found to work around the problem."
Well. How about that?
Agent/Bachelorette #4 was tired after taking pitches for two hours, and was borderline hostile, though she seemed to be trying not to be. She opened with the Fatal Word Count Question. I fessed up immediately, and the look on her face was such that I followed it up by saying, "Perhaps I should give you back the rest of the ten minutes?" Because if the answer is obviously no, sometimes stopping right away is the best option for both parties. "You're entitled to your ten minutes," she said. I tried talking about my other projects, but she came back to, "But this one is still too long for the market." Yes, I get that. I tried general questions about the industry, talking to her as a resource rather than as a person who was in any danger of ever representing me. Every answer came back to, "You do realize 300K is too long, though." Yes, yes, I said so in the first place. And if it weren't for the fact that several agents have asked to see partials anyway, even after knowing the word count, I would long ago have stopped bothering to pitch this book and would have concentrated only on finishing the short one. "People ask to see it?" she said, shocked. "How does that go?" As if she suspected me of making it up. Really, if I were the kind of person who could lie about the reception the ms was getting, I could have just lied about the word count in the first place. Whatever. I sketched out how that's gone, and all she had to say about it was...wait for it..."But 300K is too long." And then, mercifully, my ten minutes were up. It was the most awkward pitching experience I've ever had. It was clear from thirty seconds in that there was nowhere for it to go, but there was no polite way I could make it stop.
Fortunately, after the bizarre success of the third pitch, I wasn't in any danger of taking the fourth one personally.
So, I've sent a delicate message to the agent who currently has the long partial, letting her know that there have been other requests for materials, and that one of them may play out unusually quickly. I guess I'll find out soon what the answer was to yesterday's etiquette question.
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no subject
Date: 2007-05-12 04:19 am (UTC)Is the problem that 300k words is too much for a first book or is it that 300k is just too long period?
Congrats on the warm reception!
no subject
Date: 2007-05-12 01:21 pm (UTC)Congrats Dr P!!
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Date: 2007-05-12 02:05 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-05-12 03:28 pm (UTC)"Never mind about that!"
Heh.
The way I figure it, even having an ogre for an agent ought to be fine for you, as long as she's enthusiastically on your side... ;-)
no subject
Date: 2007-05-12 04:15 pm (UTC)Congrats on the successful date with #3; I wish you well.
no subject
Date: 2007-05-13 01:17 am (UTC)Maybe Agent 4 was suddenly wondering if she was missing out on the latest trend. "What?? Are we taking big books now? I missed the memo!!" :) ha!
2 out of 4 interested is a pretty cool success rate for a book that supposedly is too long for anyone to want...
no subject
Date: 2007-05-13 01:19 am (UTC)Congrats!
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Date: 2007-05-14 12:48 pm (UTC)I know that even in its early drafts, the Big Book reached out and grabbed me and wouldn't let go. I can only imagine how much more wonderful and grabby it is now. Keep it up!
no subject
Date: 2007-05-14 04:05 pm (UTC)Note that both of those books are debut novels. George R.R. Martin and Robert Jordan routinely exceed that length, but then, they've got decades-long track records.
It's not an impossible length. It's a risky length, and the people who shell out the bucks to get the books printed and bound want to be very, very certain that they'll sell enough copies to recoup their investments. Booksellers, who only have so many inches of shelf space in their stores, want to be very, very certain that those inches would not be better spent by stocking two or three shorter books in the same space.
Readers of fantasy like long books, it's true, but they only like to pay for a long book if they're very confident that they'll like it. A track record helps. Word of mouth helps. A stunning concept (like Clarke's) helps, or some really marketable quality like graphic sex in a time when erotica is selling well (as in Carey's case) helps. Readers are, in their own way, even more ruthlessly selective than editors and agents are. I know I've picked up intriguing long books, thought about how much weight they'd add to my handbag, and then put the books right back on the shelves, figuring that if it's really any good, I'll hear about it again from friends. It's not just a problem with the mindset of the industry.
Agents and editors often say things like, "If the book is brilliant enough, the rules can be bent," but they rarely allow for the possibility that the individual standing in front of them might actually have written a brilliant enough book. And sometimes I think they're scared to find out. What if it's brilliant enough? Then they'd have to take flack from their colleagues and bosses, fighting like hell and spending their personal credibility for a book that, however brilliant, might tank when it came to sales. You can only push for your press to take that kind of risk once in a very great while.
But then, I only need one agent for this book, and I only need on publishing house. It's like needing a parking space--you're less stressed out if the parking lot is empty, but ultimately your car only takes up so much room.
no subject
Date: 2007-05-14 04:06 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-05-14 04:08 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-05-14 04:12 pm (UTC)I can sympathize with an agent who thinks about what a long shot a 300K novel would be, how hard she'd have to push to get it looked at, how hard she'd have to haggle in contract negotiations even if it sold just to recoup the cost of her time. What I had difficulty sympathizing with was the insistence that I had to sit there and take my lesson in discouragement long after it was clear that Agent #4 wouldn't want to see my work.
Here's hoping Agent #3 finds the book as grabby as you did. Thanks for the encouragement!
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Date: 2007-05-14 04:13 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-05-23 02:48 pm (UTC)And congrats again, I say!!!!! Hope it works out - I'm really getting hooked on these snippets and it would be a dreadful thing to have to leave the story before it's finished....
-Katrina
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Date: 2007-05-23 03:44 pm (UTC)Anyhow, they're set in the same world, but the Little Book takes place 200 years earlier than the Big one. Stisele's still a lively historical presence in the Big Book, and in later volumes of that series she's a fairly active ghost.
I figure, since book titles often change in production, sometimes at the last minute, it's better not to get too fixated on any specific title. The Traitor of Imlen and Spires of Beltresa sound like pretty good titles, but if an editor is determined to change them to something else, that would be a great problem to have.
no subject
Date: 2007-05-23 06:16 pm (UTC)Got'cha! Well, I AM hooked and I wish you most well in the finishing and selling of same....
"Little Book (divided loyalties, hauntings, blood sacrifice), as opposed to the series that starts with the Big Book (guillotines, repentance, democracy). "
*hehehhehehe* I love your three-word descriptions! They serve so well to not only keep the two books separate from each other, but also to sum them up admirably. I will have to remember that for our Worlds - the Beauty & the Beast-esque one, especially, is growing like crazy before we've even finished the first one!
It would be an interesting exercise, I think, to sum up one's own work or another's in three words only. I may have to post that as a Writer's Challenge on my sister-in-spirit's and my EZBoard. (http://pub138.ezboard.com/bmenagerie75284)
"...but if an editor is determined to change them to something else, that would be a great problem to have."
Wouldn't it just! May you have said problem soonest! :-)
-Katrina