When It's Time to Break Up
The agony/ relief of dropping your agent
Hello new friends! You’re reading a monthly newsletter called The Curious Kat, in which I seek to inspire and create community by sharing ideas about creativity. I write about books, movies, art (sometimes music, too) and my own publishing experiences. Welcome!
I’ve wanted to write about breaking up with my agent, but I haven’t known how.
I’m compelled to share because this particular business relationship is kind of fascinating. Most professional creatives rely on agents of various types to help us get our work out into the world. Painters need galleries and representatives, writers need agents and editors, musicians need managers… most of us can’t do it alone.
We develop close relationships with these creative partners and confidantes. They comfort us when we suffer rejections, work with us to make sure our final products are as good as they can possibly be, step out into the world as our representatives, manage and disburse our earnings, open doors for us.
They take care of business—while we dream, and sweat how to turn that dream into something others might find compelling. When agents work well with their clients, it’s a killer partnership.
There’s an odd power balance in this partnership… not that it’s unequal, exactly, but let’s say, it’s complicated. Writers need agents to pitch commercial publishers. We need them to be enthusiastic and pushy and convinced of our potential. Agents also need us; without viable authors they don’t earn any money.
Our careers depend on them. Their careers depend on us. We trust them: they talk us out of and into things, encourage us to be bold or to dial it back. That kind of trust creates a certain intimacy that makes leaving really hard.
As the creative person in the partnership, we need to work hard and be reliable, gracious, reasonable, and appreciative. When we behave this way, we have a right to expect the same in return.
I knew I had to break it off, but…
It’s not unlike being in a terrible romantic relationship with someone you still think is pretty cool. You know you have to leave but, man, you really don’t want to.
You don’t want to end up alone! You convince yourself they’ll change. You stay patient because you’d rather have company than not. You give them chance after chance after chance, because what you used to have was so GOOD and maybe, just maybe, you can get that back…
The past few years have been hard in the industry generally, and for me specifically (professionally, that is). In the face of a string of broken promises, I decided to be patient; I’m good at that. I have empathy and I know how to keep myself busy. As I waited, I edited. I wrote a screenplay. I began a new book. I did a lot of research.
But I also worried. I wasted time. I got bored. And then, finally, I got so frustrated that I stopped being able to write.
That was when I knew I had to leave. For days I labored over a sad email, pressed send—and that was it: We severed ties so quickly I had whiplash.
To torment myself, I went though our thousands of emails, especially the early ones which were so eager and full of energy. Why had this happened to ME? Why did I have such BAD LUCK? That all turned into anger and the desire for some sort of karmic reckoning. I wasted so much TIME! I’m not getting any YOUNGER!
What happened then??
But it was astonishing how quickly those feelings turned into acceptance, which then translated into action. I started querying new agents. Within an hour I had my first request for a full manuscript. Within two months I had an offer of representation and within another month I had three offers… and now here I am, with a brand spanking new agent and renewed hope.
Why am I telling you this? Because fear and insecurity are anathema to creativity, and yet I’d argue they are both ever present AND necessary. I’m suspicious of artists who don’t feel some fear.
Fear keeps us on our toes. It makes us pay attention and try harder.
So now I’m back in the swing of things. No more boiling resentment, no more endless waiting. Instead of feeling cowed and unloved, I feel valuable and bullish. This doesn’t mean everything is going to turn out great, but it does mean I can get back to writing.
And that’s what this is all about, really. Creating an environment for ourselves in which we are able to keep working.
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Coming next: what’s inspired me recently!
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I really enjoyed reading how you turned the disappointment around to energize your writing.
Great article! Spot on! You nailed the complex relationship between writer and agent.
AND - well done on finding a new agent - I can tell you are soaring now!! :)