Draft Zero to Writing Hero Chapter VIII: The Calls

[Image: My Hermes Baby typewriter with text "Draft Zero to Writing Hero"]

Hi fronds! Welcome to the grand tale about my writing journey! I wanted to write about this in all its roller-coaster ups and downs because I had a lot of trouble finding this information when I was getting started in 2016. This is definitely going to span several posts, but I hope my story will help someone else with their own path to publishing. If you'd like to know how this all began, please start with Chapter I.

Chapter VIII: The Calls

Okay I think I've kept you hanging long enough. One of the agents I queried from a Twitter pitch, who had spent about three weeks with my full, got in touch to set up a call! 

[GIF: Excited Lottie from "The Princess and the Frog"]

I'd never gotten that far in the query process before, so my reaction was something like *happy scream* mixed with *terrified stressed scream.* I was so excited, and yet -  I had no idea what to do??? Why is writing actually only 10% writing and 90% stumbling around in the dark?

The whole "The Call" thing was totally new territory for me. After I giddily replied to the agent, telling them that HELL YES I wanted to set up a call, I realized that this was yet another stage in the writing process about which I knew exactly zero. Cue more feverish Googling and blog reading, and after a couple hours, I had scraped together a list of what to ask agents during The Call. There were so many technical things to ask about that I had to do a Google search about my Google search. I didn't want to mess up even a single word, kind of like how I'm often scared to speak in my second languages because I don't want to accidentally say "screw you" when I mean to say "thank you."

The agent and I quickly set up an appointment to talk on the phone the following week, which meant that I was in for a week of sleepless nights and micro-naps while watching baseball on TV. I spent every waking (non-fever-dream) hour researching the agent, looking up other works they'd represented, and reading way too far back into their Twitter feed. I ricocheted back and forth between excited and scared like a live-action game of Pong. (Uh. I guess that's ping pong. Or tennis. Or DX Ball. Or...anyway.)

[GIF: Cats playing ping pong]

At last, the feared coveted day arrived. I sat and stared at my phone, waiting, until at last it lit up with an unfamiliar number - and I answered on the first ring. As expected, but still surreal, the agent was on the other end. They started off by telling me what they enjoyed about my manuscript and why they wanted to represent it. I got into this weird fog where I could not remember how to breathe properly but somehow I managed to take copious notes as they talked. The agent gave me some suggested edits for my manuscript, which surprised me - I thought that was like an "agent/client privilege" thing I wouldn't be able to access until I signed a contract - but I was glad they did that because it became extremely helpful later.

I asked about so many things, from marketing to idea generation to revision style and deadlines. Some of my questions were answered while the agent was responding to other questions, and others I was too afraid to ask, worried that I was asking too many questions. I didn't want to sound nosy or suspicious, or make the agent think I just wanted to sound smart, so I left some questions unasked. (This is not a recommended procedure.)

Still, though, at the end of the call, the agent offered to represent me, at which point I basically lost the ability to speak. It’s a good thing my partner was in the room to remind me to say, “thank you!” I was given two weeks to get my ducks in a row and respond to the offer, and just like that, that narrow window of time went from Summer Leisure Hangout Time to So Many Emails Juggle Festival.

[GIF: Woman at a computer in the dark, suddenly starts typing]

As soon as I stopped jumping around the room and hugging my partner, I went right back to Google to figure out what to do next. My first instinct was actually to head over to Twitter and scream to the world that I'd gotten an offer of representation, but I knew I had other things to do. And, as it turns out, I had to start with notifying the other agents I'd queried that I had an offer. I read some templates and quickly drafted two emails with the subject line "Offer of Representation." The first was for the agents who had my full manuscript, and it went something like this: 

Dear [Agent],  

I am writing to inform you that I have received an offer of representation. I have until [date two weeks from today] to respond, so if you are also interested, could you please inform me by [date one week from today]? Thank you.

Almost every agent who had the full manuscript responded within a day or so and let me know that they would read the manuscript as soon as possible. I'd seen some mixed information about how long to give the agents to respond, but I settled on a week because I figured they'd need time to read, plus time in which to schedule a call if they wanted to. 

[GIF: Zach Galifianakis from "The Hangover" overlaid with math equations]

The other email was for the agents I'd queried but hadn't heard back from yet. Here's what I wrote to them: 

Dear [Agent],

I am writing to inform you that I have received an offer of representation. I know you might not have seen my query yet, but if you are interested in my work, I can give you until [date one week from today] with the full manuscript. Otherwise, I understand that this is a short turnaround and don’t want to rush you.

About half of the agents I emailed this to replied, mostly with "thanks, but no thanks." A couple requested the full manuscript, and a few never replied at all. At the end of the day, though, I figure it was worth it to reach out, if only for politeness's sake or to let the agents know not to waste time on my material after a certain date. 

Ultimately, I scheduled a few more phone calls and, armed with my handy-dandy list of questions, sat down for The Calls (or in one case, stepped out of a busy bar right before attending a Cleveland Indians double-header in which they CRUSHED the Rangers). All but one of the agents I spoke with gave me feedback on my manuscript during our call - the outlier agent said they'd give me notes if I signed with them, which, yeah, fair. They all had different visions for the manuscript and different reasons why they wanted to represent it. I got incrementally bolder with each call, asking more and more questions, and by the time I got to the last one, I felt like a pro. 

Once all the calls were done, I had to do the unthinkable but obvious and reasonable thing: make a decision. I'm a people-pleaser, so it's really hard for me to say "no" to anyone. Clearly, though, I couldn't sign with multiple agents at multiple agencies - I had to pick one. I looked over the questions I'd asked and the responses I received, and I knew who I was going to pick. 

[GIF: Paper fortune teller game with "yes" and "no" written on it] 

In the end, I chose to sign with Christa Heschke at McIntosh & Otis! I felt like she understood what I wanted to accomplish with this manuscript and her interests aligned with where I saw my writing career going. It just all fit :) 

Once I'd signed with Christa, I had to email the other agents who had offered representation to let them know. Here's the gist of what I said:

Dear [Agent],

Thank you for reading GIRLS BREAK THINGS and for taking the time to chat with me. While I enjoyed talking with you about GIRLS BREAK THINGS and your vision for it, I've decided to work with another agent. Thanks again, and I wish you all the best!

I felt SO GUILTY sending these emails, but it had to be done. I received some kind replies, and I haven't looked back - I have honestly been way too busy working on this manuscript. Because as I quickly learned, the work doesn't stop once you sign with an agent!

Continued in Chapter IX...