Agent Symposium Series -- Pitching Editors
Question:
Writers hear a lot about the query and submission process to agents,
but once writers receive literary representation, there's not much
information about how agents turn around and "pitch" their clients'
projects to the appropriate editors. Could you discuss the submission process
of a new client's novel or nonfiction proposal to editors?
How does your pitch process to editors affect your decision to take on a
prospective client and their book?
* agents' responses are listed in the order that they were received
When I read a manuscript or proposal on submission, I know I'm going to
offer representation when two things happen. (1) I'm excited because I
know it's great and unique and fresh. (2) I'm only 50 pages in, already
thinking, "So-and-so at Random House will adore this; this is totally up
So-and-so's alley at Penguin; So-and-so at HarperCollins will eat this
up with a silver spoon!" I could read a well crafted proposal about,
umm, how to invest your life savings with minimal risk -- but I'd be a
terrible agent for that author since I don't know many of the editors
buying finance books. They'd shuffle my project to their assistant and
sit on it for weeks before responding. Or months. Or make me follow up
and shed tears to pull a response out of them.
However, when I'm not just admiring the author's work, but already
matching it up with appropriate editors in my head -- the ones who know
me, who take my calls, who don't mind catching up for 10 minutes about
their vacation or the weather or their crappy ex-boyfriend before even
turning to business matters -- then I'm clearly the right champion for
it.
So those editors I know best are people I speak with on a regular basis.
Some of us are good friends outside of work, others are like
professional buddies. There are lots of cool people in publishing whose
company I enjoy. It's one of the perks of the business. So we're
chatting, and I might mention, "Oh by the way, I'm reading this fabulous
project on submission, about blah blah, blah de blah..."
They might say, "Sounds great, I'd love to see it when it's ready," or
"Sounds interesting, you should send it to my colleague here..." And
then we get back to the weather or the stupid ex who wore women's
underwear.
Sometimes it's calculated: I'm baiting them days or weeks in advance, so
when this fabulous new project is finally ready to go out, they're
hopefully eager - salivating! promising to tear through it overnight! -
to read it. This is because, clearly, I am an evil and nefarious agent.
And sometimes it's just my own enthusiasm; I fall in love with my
projects and want to talk everyone's ear off about it. This has less to
do with how evil I am, and is more related to my obnoxious charm.
So when I'm sending out a new project, the editors I know best have
already heard about it, and hopefully read it quickly. Sometimes I'll
call to let them know it's coming -- especially if I have a crackerjack
pitch or the proposal has a great title. Or I just send it and know
they'll read it because they trust my taste. If I'm approaching a new
editor I haven't met (or maybe just met for lunch, but don't know well
yet) I'll practice the pitch in my head a million ways to Tuesday, suck
up my courage, give them a call and hope to not flub it entirely. Cold
calling strangers is not my favorite thing to do, but I'm getting better
at it. Sort of. Sometimes I'll just slap an introduction into my pitch
letter and let the project speak for itself. As an agent, the best way
to introduce yourself to a new editor is by sending them something they
love. Works every time. Just like the same is true for a writer
introducing yourself to an agent without a referral; if you send a great
query letter, you'll get a response.
All in all, it's all a bit nebulous, since the editor-agent connection
is usually some sort of relationship. So how I pitch to one editor will
differ how I pitch to another. But I hope this gives your readers a
better sense of how the process works in general.
First, you identify the right houses and the right editors for the project.
You don’t want to send a literary novel to a house that’s known for its commercial fiction.
Having said that, these days most houses do a wide range of projects,
so it’s even more important to be focused when you’re identifying the editor.
The worst is to make an obvious mistake like sending a non-fiction editor a novel.
But you also want to be even more subtle than that: what has the editor bought in the past?
Does the editor tend to like your submissions and offer on them, or reject everything you send?
Has the editor mentioned to you at lunch or on the phone recently that they’re looking for
a specific sort of project? Do you know this editor’s taste and what he or she tends to
like or dislike? Does this editor actually edit, or do they tend to kind of ignore their
authors after they sign up a book (this one is particularly important).
Once you’ve done that, you develop a short pitch for the project.
You compare it to other projects that have been successful in the past—this
works particularly well if you’ve actually been the agent for said projects.
You come up with a really compelling reason or fun catch-phrase that is going to
make the editor move this project to the top of the pile when he/she gets it in.
At this point, you’ve already written your query letter, so you may very well crib
something from that when pitching to editors. You either call or e-mail the editors on your
list and give them the pitch. 9.9 times out of ten they want to see it.
So you send it. If you’re lucky, there is tremendous enthusiasm and you
can set up an auction or have an impromptu auction. This is when you go in rounds,
publisher by publisher, to get increasingly larger offers (see my website www.jennybent.com for a more
complete explanation). Or maybe just one or two publishers want to buy.
Either way, it can be a tricky situation, and I just realized that this wasn’t
part of the question anyway!
OK, how does the pitch process affect my decision to take on a client?
Well, it does and it doesn’t. I suppose you could characterize the
reluctance to take on certain projects because you don’t see how you
could successfully pitch them. But really, you turn down projects because 1.
you don’t like them, plain and simple or 2. you don’t think you could sell them.
And often the reasons for not being able to sell them and not being able to pitch
them are the same. But not always. Make sense? I thought so!
One of the first questions I ask myself when considering whether to take on
a client and their work is whether I can sell it.
Part of answering this question requires thinking of actual editors who would buy
this work. As a result, preparing a submission list for a client’s project really begins
quite early. Also, when I read a query I want to be able to envision what the flash
points/hot topics would be in my pitch to editors. If there aren’t any, or if they
aren’t convincing, I’ll likely pass on the project. Of course, I also have to be
head-over-heels in love with the project. It’s getting harder each day to sell books,
so an agent really does have to be as passionate about the project as the author.
Once I do begin representing an author, before submitting anything I usually ask for at least a few rounds of edits.
During that time I will continue to work on the submission list,
begin talking/hyping the project to various editors, etc. I almost never
submit anything exclusively, and I think this has become the norm on the adult
side of the business. Of course, there are exceptions to this, depending on the
author and circumstances.
How many and which editors to submit to is an art, and so I’d rather not reveal my
opinions on this. However, as a general matter you should know that your agent does
put a tremendous amount of thought into this.
Once the project is ready I’ll usually call or write editors to ascertain or verify their interest.
Usually I send a hard copy of the project out, but lately editors have become more willing
to accept electronic submissions. I’ll follow up with editors as needed,
depending on reactions to the work. The submission will conclude with a sale
(hopefully at auction), or occasionally I’ll ask the author to consider a rewrite.
I really do believe that a submission is never dead,
but the only way I am able to have that conviction is to be
extremely selective in regard to who I represent. I have to have good answers
to the questions I mentioned above or else I will pass on a project.
I’m actually thinking about the pitch process from the
moment I read a query letter,
it’s an integral part of my evaluation of a proposal
or partial manuscript, even a query letter.
As I read a query letter I am intrigued by, I am thinking:
can I envision myself calling an editor and pitching
this book to her? Do I know what I would say?
Is there anything I can anticipate that the editor
would have questions or reservations about, and how
would I handle those? I try to have the toughest, most
discerning editor in mind when I do this.
If a query, even one I am drawn to, doesn’t pass this “pitch test,” I will pass.
Much of the work I do with the authors I
represent on their proposals and manuscripts before submitting
them is related directly to the pitch. I make sure they have
included all the information and done all the work that is needed
in order to back up my pitch. I hope that my clients do learn a
lot from this process about how I’ll pitch their work and what my
pitch will be.
I always try to call the editors I want to submit something to and have a brief
conversation about it first, in order to pitch the project, to highlight the
submission so that the editors will be anticipating its arrival, and to “take
the temperature,” to gauge the editors’ very first responses. I like to find
out in these conversations whether editors will have any reservations I might
not otherwise know about (ie, they just bought a similar project the day before)
and whether they indicate any key considerations they’ll have in mind when they
evaluate the submission. For example, sometimes they ask about the author’s background
or how the project compares to another similar book. I also want the editors to
know that they are an important part of my pitch: I want them each to know that
there is a specific reason I have selected them for the submission – another
author they’ve published, something I know they are looking for,
a specific interest I know they have.
I do discuss the submission plan, the pitch and the list of editors with my clients – often they have editors or publishers they’d like to include because of other books the publishers have done.
The pitch is an integral part of the process for me, from the very first query onwards.
This is a difficult one to answer.
Unless I’m missing the super secret agent club meetings
and was skipped over for the handbook mailing list,
there isn’t one standard submission process for agents of which I’m aware.
(And in fact, this information may even be a bit proprietary.)
There isn’t one way I submit to publishers.
My strategy is different for every project, just as each one is unique.
Every pitch letter I write is completely different, in structure, form, length and tone;
every package I send out is different (though, branded with my agency’s standard box, folder,
letterhead, etc.), even the specific components of a proposal for nonfiction;
my editor submission lists vary in size. It all depends on the project at hand.
One of my favorite parts of the job is the matchmaking. I adore putting the perfect project and the perfect editor together.
Editor submission lists are a lot of fun for me to compile.
I'm thinking about the right matches all the time; it's the type of thing that
I wake up in the middle of the night thinking about. When I'm taking editorial notes
on a project I'm reading, I'm also scrawling the names of potential
editors to send it to as the names come to me. Even when I read for pleasure,
I can't get it out of my head. I read books thinking "Oh, so-and-so would love
this and would totally want to buy it." And then I have to remind myself,
"The book's already been published. It has an editor, dummy."
(That's when I email my editor friends reading suggestions.)
It's important to consider all sorts of things when matching
editors and projects: Is there a category they want to acquire
but haven't? Is there a category they have acquired but never
want to work on again? What are their interests? What are their backgrounds?
What are their hobbies? Where are they from? What do they read for pleasure?
What do they wish they acquired? There are a million things to consider and my submission lists
go through many drafts.
Before I send a writer’s work to an editor, I
always make contact first to confirm it’s something they want to see
(and so that they’re expecting it when it lands on the paper
refectory that is their/their assistant’s desk) via a phone call,
email, lunch, breakfast, dinner, drinks… you get the picture.
And then I personalize the cover letter.
My first round sizes range from 1 to 8 to 10 to 12 to 16… I recently
sent out a book to 19 editors for the first round. Wow, it was a lot
of work (and our messenger service scolded us for neglecting to tell them that
one bike messenger couldn’t handle the load), but it was right for the project.
Once in while I’ll send a book out for a week exclusive or head start for various reasons,
but only if the match is just too perfect.
It’s different each time. I share the strategies and material
I propose using with my clients and am always happy to answer questions
about the process. In the end, authors’ manuscripts are their art form;
the submission process is mine. (And it’s a lot of fun too.)
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