How I Found My Agent
I love reading people’s stories about how they finally found a literary agent. I especially love it when the writer’s search was long and difficult. If a writer queried a dozen agents and then two weeks later—BAM—found themself with multiple offers, well, good for them.
That was definitely not my experience.
The middle-grade dog novel that finally landed me an agent is one that I began in 2010 or 2011. I sent my first queries about it in 2012—10 full years before finally signing with an agent.
Looking back, I’m certain that I started querying before the novel was ready, though at the time, I thought it was good enough.
My critique group read it. I made revisions and tried different things, like changing the point of view from first to third (and back again). I had the sense that there was something not quite right, but I couldn’t figure it out. So I just kept querying in the hope that an agent would be able to help me fix whatever it was.
I tended to query in batches. According to my submissions spreadsheet, I queried about two dozen agents in October 2012. They all passed. I must have taken a break to revise again because the next query didn’t go out until July 2013.
Between May 2012 and September 2017, I queried about 60 agents. Most of them sent me a form rejection or didn’t respond. Three requested the full manuscript and then said no thanks.
Chester is the model for the main character in the dog novel that finally landed me an agent. This is him in 2020, when he was still getting around well.
In 2017, I set my dog novel aside to work on other things. I still loved it and believed in it, however.
In November 2019, I attended an alumnx mini-residency at the Vermont College of Fine Arts with my classmate Margaret Nevinski. (These events are like mini children’s writing conferences for writers who earned their MFA at VCFA.) Since I had no clue what to do about my dog novel, I submitted the first 10 pages of it to be workshopped.
Our workshop was led by Liz Garton Scanlon, a VCFA faculty member whom I didn’t know but found to be so lovely. The reactions of my fellow workshop participants were encouraging. They suggested my novel wasn’t starting in quite the right place, so I worked on that and started querying again in spring 2020.
During 2020 and 2021, I queried 50+ agents. I received a lot of form rejections and “Not right for my list.” STILL. NO. POSITIVE. RESPONSE.
Why not? Was an animal novel too hard to sell? Was my writing not good enough? Was I not targeting the right agents? Was my query letter terrible?
I just couldn’t figure it out. And then the alumnx mini-residency rolled around again in November 2021, this time in a virtual format. I registered right away and snapped up a critique appointment. I wanted a critique with either an editor or an agent.
I won the lottery with Tricia Lawrence, agent with EMLA, because she helped me finally figure it out. She told me during our Zoom critique session, “I think your novel’s starting in the wrong place. It’s too sad. What if you started it with Chester in dog heaven having a good time?”
BOOM! That was it. My story was starting too far back in time. The emotion was too high in those opening scenes. Her feedback resonated with me. I got to work.
During the next few months, I rewrote the first 30 pages of my 130-page manuscript. Then I combed through the rest carefully to make sure I was delivering the best work I could. (The tools I learned from my book coach training helped—especially the Inside Outline.)
In February 2022 I started querying again. Because I’d changed the title, rewritten the beginning, and revised my query letter, I figured I could approach some of the agents I’d queried years before. Who’d remember a novel that was queried 8 or 10 years earlier?
About the same time that I resumed querying, I renewed my long-lapsed membership in SCBWI. I attended a virtual event, led by the Washington state chapter, about animals in children’s books. It was very well done. The panelists gave thorough, interesting answers to the moderator’s questions. I thought the agent who participated would be a good fit for my novel. So I queried her and got a quick pass.
Sigh.
Then one day in March 2022 I received an SCBWI email newsletter with a piece by Sarah Aronson. I know Sarah from VCFA and encountered her at a few SCBWI and VCFA events in years past. Her piece was about author e-newsletters. Since I was just getting started on my own book coaching blog and e-newsletter, I read her piece with interest.
Then I poked around her website to see how she encouraged writers to sign up for her e-newsletter. While I was there, I noticed that she’s represented by Andrea Cascardi with Transatlantic Agency.
I hopped over to Transatlantic’s site to see if Andrea was open to queries. She wasn’t, so I considered asking Sarah for a referral. Would that be weird? Uncomfortable?
While I was still thinking about that, I noticed Fiona Kenshole’s name on Transatlantic’s list of agents for children’s writers.
Fiona had been on my list of agents to submit to for some time, but she was also closed to queries. Since the idea of a referral was on my mind, I looked at her list of clients just in case I knew anyone she represents.
And to my amazement, I recognized a name—Sarah Mirk. I followed the link to make sure she was the same Sarah Mirk I know through Grinnell College. Yes, same person. A few years ago, when I was editor of The Grinnell Magazine, I wrote a short profile about Sarah and her non-fiction comic about Guantanamo Bay. (Her book, Guantanamo Voices, has since been published.)
Our connection was slight. Was it enough to ask for a referral? It felt brazen to me, an introvert and a Midwesterner, but I did it anyway.
In my email to Sarah, I reminded her who I was, explained briefly about my book, and asked if she’d be willing to refer me to her agent. Then I crossed my fingers and tried to forget about it. I figured the worst that could happen was that she’d say no. After so many years of rejections, what was one more?
And then time seemed to speed up.
Sarah got back to me that same night to say yes. She asked me to send her info on the book, so I emailed her the next morning with my query letter.
A few hours later, I received a request for my full manuscript from Fiona. I crossed my fingers and sent it. I was delighted that my referral request had worked, even if Fiona ultimately said no.
Two days after I sent her the manuscript I received an email from Fiona. “Offer of Representation” was in the subject line.
My breathing got a little wonky. I was stunned. And then I felt the slightest prick of tears. Finally, someone else, someone really knowledgeable about this industry, believed in this book too.
I needed to show her message to my husband to see if it really said what I thought it was saying. I took my laptop to the kitchen where he was fixing himself breakfast. He read it and exclaimed in delight.
It was real.
Fiona and I talked via Zoom the next day. She’s funny, smart, and persistent. I wanted to say yes immediately but she urged me to contact the other agents I’d queried to let them know I had an offer. So out of politeness, I did that, but it made no difference to me.
We signed an agreement a few weeks later. Fiona is the experienced, market-savvy agent I’ve been looking for.