I haven’t done one of these in quite a while. See the column on the right for the extant entries in the series. To wit:
The ‘When Good Advice Goes Bad’ series seeks to report upon various bits of great writerly advice that has been trampled, maimed, perverted and otherwise turned to dastardly means. Everything from the simple “try not to use passive voice,” a banner that has been waved in every wholesale genocide of the word “had”; to the more complicated career questions, such as “start with category because it’s easier.” We’re looking fat advice that is well meant but leads to errors, or even good advice that we can explore and see how we might be, even now, interpreting it in a damaging manner. I hope to learn a lot.
Today:
The good advice: “Remember that agents are hoping to find writers who are aiming for a long-term career, not just a One-Book Wonder.”
How it goes bad: “I’m afraid they’ll think I’m a one-book wonder.” “How do I avoid coming across as a one-book wonder?” “I’m going to tell this agent about every time I’ve ever placed pen to paper because I don’t want them to think I’m a one-book wonder.”
Where it’s found: Prolific usage by inexperienced writers who want an excuse to throw everything they’ve got at an unsuspecting agent or editor.
Here’s the thing to keep in mind, folks. I don’t know any agent or editor who automatically assumes a query from a genre fiction writer is from a so-called one-book wonder. From a celebrity or memoirist? Sure. But if you just say the more formal equivalent of, “Hi, I have this 90k book in this genre, here’s what it’s about ::insert awesome blurb:: can’t wait to hear from you,” then that’s all right, too.
But but but, I hear you say, the agents say they want to know in advance! Isn’t it better to show how much experience I have by telling them about all seventeen books I have on the back burner?
NO. Here’s what you do. Insert this line at the end of my query: “This is my second completed manuscript.” You could also insert this line: “This is my third completed manuscript.” If the number increases beyond three, say, “I have completed several manuscripts.” (Like any woman of a certain age will tell you, there’s nothing wrong with being a bit vague on that number.) That’s all you need to say.
If you talk about 17 books, they’re going to start backing away slowly, wondering how bad you are that you didn’t manage to land anyone before now. (This may be completely untrue, by the way, because there are a variety of reasons that someone hasn’t sold other than that they suck, but that’s the impression it will give. It’s similar to the way many editors look at slush piles. They auto-reject older submissions, figuring if they’d been any good, the writer would have already secured an agent and sold the puppy.)
If, saints preserve us, you proceed to describe all seventeen books and their various genres, then the industry pro will also freak out becuase they’ll decide that though you may not be a one-book wonder, you haven’t settled into your niche yet. Keep in mind the other part of the good advice: long term career. Not a flighty genre-hopper.
But but but, I hear you say, that’s not true! They *are* afraid of getting a one-book wonder on their hands! That was Rachel Vater up there giving that good advice. Rachel Vater! She’s totally a top-drawer agent, plus she edited the Guide to Literary Agents. She knows what she’s talking about!
Okay, fine. If you insist. They’re afraid of getting a one-book wonder. But let me tell you about the other things they are much more afraid of:
1. Getting a no-book wonder: has this writer sent me a query for a manuscript that doesn’t exist?
2. Getting a one (or more!) book blunder: Does this manuscript suck?
3. Signing a writer and getting a book deal that becomes a one-book flop because the sales are so low.
Whether or not the writer has other books in her is way down on an agent’s priority list, because most of the time, it’s assumed. It’s something they want to discuss with the writer AFTER they’ve read the book the writer has sent. That way, if they think the writer shows promise, but not with this book, they can ask for something else, or if they think the writer is someone they want to sign, they can see if they are interested in the same long-term career goals that Vater mentions.
This isn’t something that beginning writers need to be worried about, and yet, over and over, I hear the term bandied about writing lists as if every agent opens a query letter and says, “This story looks great, but how can I request the material if I’m not absolutely positive, through a detailed account of all this writer’s other works and the submission process she has undertaken with each one, whether or not she’s in it for the long haul?” Come on, now. If you are afraid of being taken for a newb, say it’s your whateverith completed manuscript.
Let me tell you when you can start worrying about being a one (or, gulp, two) book wonder. When you have sold your book, and it comes out, and your editor stops taking your calls. Then you worry. Me, I haven’t sold another book yet, but as soon as I finish the second book in my contract (in August) I will definitely be thinking about how best to get back in the game.
(However, I did get paid yesterday for my anthology. Yay!)
One more word on this point. When an industry pro says, that they are interested in authors, not just books, it does not mean that their design is to pick any old writer who can string some sentences together and mold them into something publishable. It means they want to represent an author with a product, and will stand by that author. But first the author has to produce something that is worthy of the agent’s investment.
So endeth the lesson. Thoughts? Arguments?
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