15 Years is a Long Time

What I've Learned After Almost a Third of my Life in Publishing

Hey Friends,

It’s memory lane time! This week marks the 15th anniversary of working at the Howard Morhaim Literary Agency. FIFTEEN YEARS! I am having a hard time wrapping my head around the passage of time. But I wanted to share some things with you I’ve come to know, things that guide the way I do business as an agent, my creative work as a writer, and yeah, in life, too.

(This sounds like I’m going somewhere. I’m not going anywhere! I am just feeling nostalgic.)

Don’t sell yourself a bill of goods.

The first time Howard said this to me I had no idea what he meant. It was not an idiom I’d heard much, but I probably think it several times a week at this point. It means you can’t make something into what it’s not. It means you can’t say that a book is A, B, and C and make the pitch all pretty, if the book itself doesn’t back it up. You can’t sell a book on what you think or hope it will maybe be, but only what it actually is. It means don’t bullshit yourself or anyone else. They’ll figure it out.

Say the hard things.

The first time I turned down a pre-empt, I was nervous as hell. What if I was wrong!? What if that was the highest offer we were going to get and I just blew it for my clients?! What if that editor hated me forever!!?? Turned out, in that case, I was right. But hooo wheee that was a hard thing to say. There have been many other hard things I’ve had to say, that I wasn’t able to sell someone’s book, that I couldn’t be someone’s agent anymore, that a book was being cancelled, the hundreds of thousands of rejections I’ve sent. But you have to say the hard things. There’s no way to make them less hard. Be kind, but say them.

The first rule of negotiations is STFU.

Semi-related to saying hard things, when negotiating, state what you want, and then shut the fuck up. Don’t justify. Don’t explain. Don’t say maybe, sorta, something like, if possible. Say please and thank you, but the less you say, the less grist you give the other party to say no. Even if there’s silence on the phone. Just stop talking.

You will be remembered for your reputation, not your deals.

Somewhere about 7-ish years ago, I was having a pretty standard crisis of faith about my career, my prospects, my abilities as an agent. Maybe I went through a streak of losing out on big clients to other agents. Maybe something I thought would be a best seller was not—I can’t remember exactly. But I was talking to Howard about it and he said something to the effect of every editor I go to lunch with remarks on how successful you are. My reputation proceeded me, even if I didn’t land the big fish or have a hundred hit books. While you can’t sell anyone else a bill of goods about your career either, the point was everyone else is looking at the big picture, not this single deal or book or review.

Nothing is make it or break it.

That bad review. That failed submission. That flop. Those things don’t tank a whole career. I mean, I’m sure there are things one can do that would tank a whole career, but they aren’t the things writers—and agents—think they are. Your career is not over if your much-hyped book doesn’t make the list. Your career is not over if that one book doesn’t sell. Kirkus give you a lukewarm—or even bad!—review? People will forget and you’re not alone in that. Most writer’s careers are more resilient than that. And most reader’s memories are short.

Nothing will guarantee success.

As a corollary to the above—there’s no one thing that will seal your fate in a good way either. Your life won’t necessarily change the second you hit the list. That six-figure deal? You still have to make your own coffee the next morning. Absolutely celebrate your successes, each and every one, but don’t make one specific thing The Goal that will solve all your problems, because it probably won’t.

Remember there’s a person on the other end of this.

I can’t think of a single person this doesn’t apply to. As an agent, I have to remember there’s a writer, an editor, a contracts manager, a living, breathing, human on the other end of all these emails. It’s easy to forget. Writers, too—don’t forget there’s a human on the other end of those queries and submissions. It reminds me to be grateful, to grant grace, to be a little warmer when I’m in a hurry. And to use gifs. Everyone likes gifs.

No one is being successful AT you.

Don’t think for a second that agents are immune from professional jealousy. We know who did the thing we wanted to do, who got the kind of deal we dream of, who landed the big client we were chasing. But those agents are just taking care of their own business, their own clients. They aren’t going to movie premiers AT me. They aren’t posting “significant deals” AT me. They are doing their job and I am doing mine and you know what? What I’ve got is pretty great.

Don’t lie.

My grandmother used to say you don’t have to tell everything you know. And that’s true. But also, don’t lie. To me, as an agent, almost everything rests on that. If you sell yourself, or anyone else, a bill of goods, if you oversell a project—people will figure it out. If you say did something you didn’t do, people will figure it out. If you say you have an offer you don’t have, editors will figure it out. It can be hard to tell the truth. It can be hard to accurately represent what you have, instead of telling a pretty story about what you wish you had. But do that enough times and people will figure out you can’t be trusted. And it’s hard to come back from that.

I would not have learned any of this without Howard Morhaim’s help, not only because he gave me an actual job and desk and email address. Without his advice, mentorship, and care, I would not be where I am today. Thank you, Howard. For so much.

Thanks for coming on this newsletter journey with me, too, friends. I really enjoy writing to you here and honestly, it’s helped me figure out a bunch of different things about my own writing and work. Thanks for reading, for being a paid subscriber if you are, and for telling your friends about it.

OXOXOXOXO,

Kate