This is a guide to writing a novel up to the point of delivery. We are pretty much at that point now. There’s a lot more to the book business than delivering a manuscript but most of it is outside the remit of this work. The annual Writers’ and Artists’ Yearbook (Bloomsbury) is an invaluable source of information, including names and addresses of publishers and agents you may wish to approach. For a thoroughly informative insight into how to get published I recommend The Writers’ and Artists’ Yearbook Guide to Getting Published by Harry Bingham (Bloomsbury, 2010, ISBN 978 1 408 12895 4).
I should, however, add a brief word of advice about how to deal with the people who may come to hold your writing career in their hands. You doubtless feel unique once you have that finished manuscript in your hand. The truth is … you’re not. The book business is besieged by would-be authors who think that agents and publishers have nothing better to do with their time but peruse long manuscripts, offer endless free advice, and act as good Samaritans for the many complete strangers who cross their paths each day.
This isn’t the case. Act professional and follow the rules. All reputable literary agencies – and a few less impressive ones – will have websites these days. Before you send off a letter of inquiry do make sure to visit this and check their submission guidelines. Some will accept emailed Word documents. Others will ask for printed-out manuscripts (which will not be returned). It’s vital you follow these guidelines to the letter. Nothing infuriates a potential agent more than having their own working practices ignored.
All will be swamped with constant inquiries. It’s very easy for them to reject first off those that come from people who can’t be bothered to check how best to reach them or simply ignore advice on how to deliver. Don’t expect instant answers – agents will have a huge reading list to deal with already, and their existing clients will always come before potential new ones. Don’t nag by email or expect special treatment if you happen to be a Facebook friend or Twitter follower. If you’re going to be considered for representation it’s important you come across as someone serious about the business of writing.
Budding writers are understandably fixated on the idea of being published. But ideally you are embarking on the first step of a career here, not simply placing a single book. It’s worth taking your time to find the right agent, one who understands what you’re seeking from writing and is in tune with your ambitions. Mistakes – in choice of agent or publisher – may take years to correct and can damage or even kill the most promising of careers.
There are sharks in these waters. Among the many genuine and honest agents and editorial consultants out there lurk people with little experience and an avid desire to part you from your money while giving little or nothing in return. No worthwhile agent will demand a fee from you for reading a manuscript. Do not even consider hiring an editorial consultant to improve your manuscript without gaining a good idea of what he or she has in the way of professional experience relevant to your needs. Anyone can call themselves an agent or editor. It’s up to you to avoid the dodgy ones – follow the excellent advice in sources such as the Writers’ and Artists’Yearbook when you set out to seek representation.
Unless you have decided to enter the rather tricky world of self-publishing – a subject outside the remit of this book – you should not have to pay either to see your work appear or evaluated. Finally, if you decide to sign a publishing contract without using an agent – which I would not advise – do consider paying to join the Society of Authors so that their contract experts can vet the deal you’re being offered to make sure it’s fair. I’ve heard of some small publishers gulling writers into signing contracts that would give half of any theatrical rights – from TV or film – from a book to the publisher. No agent would countenance such a deal, and nor should you. But any publishing contract is likely to be couched in language the average human being will find hard to understand, so make sure someone knowledgeable checks the details.
Throughout the submission process remember you are one would-be author among thousands. Show civility and a little humility, especially when you meet rejection. Learn from what people tell you when they turn you down. Don’t waste your time on so-called ‘promotion’. The only thing you have to push is an unsold manuscript. There’s no point in putting up a website boasting of your authorial prowess if no one has yet bought your book.
I’d also be wary of putting up too much free material as ebooks. Yes, some writers have had some spectacular successes as self-published authors through Kindle and a handful have found publishing contracts that way. But those success stories are rare. Professional publishers do not spend their time scouring the thousands of new ebooks going up on the web each day, and nor do many readers.
It’s highly unlikely your manuscript will be accepted by the first agent you approach. Rejection is inevitable for most of us. My first book, Semana Santa, went unread by every literary agency I contacted when I wrote it – none of them was interested in seeing the manuscript, largely because it was set in Spain. Through good fortune and coincidence an agent did finally look at a few pages. She then asked to see the rest – and within a few months I had a three-book contract and a movie deal not long after.
Yet my first agent came from an agency that had already rejected even reading the book when I first wrote to them (not that I told her this when she called). This is, you see, a very haphazard business at times. Learn to live with it and keep your frustrations to yourself.
How many rejections should you take before giving up on your book? Practicalities will probably dictate that. If you’ve been read and turned down by all the people you think might be interested, it’s time to think of something else. And don’t, please, simply change a few things, tack on a new title then start hawking the same manuscript around hoping against hope that this time round those same people will suddenly say yes. It’s unlikely to happen and you won’t do yourself any favours in the meantime.
Once you’ve finished a book do what professional writers do. Start another. As I said at the outset, career writing demands perseverance as much as talent. Oh, and a touch of good luck. I wish you all three.