To Agent or Not... To!!!

Almost every author I know is in some sort of relationship with an agent. They either have one, want one, or are looking to change in the old for the new.

Why?

True story. Think back to the 1939 movie The Wizard of Oz. Not hard to picture the cast having agents. Well, guess what. Even the dog had an agent. Toto earned $125.00 per week. The Munchkins, on the other hand, earned $50.00 a week.

The difference: Toto had a better agent.

So, back to my original question. Which comes first? The sale or the agent?

I think at one time, maybe a decade ago, when I was new to the fiction writing trade, you'd get a 50/50 response. I don't think that's true anymore. I think, now, with traditional press, it's more 90/10. I can only think of one prepublished author I know who's still sending faithfully without thinking agent. Everyone else I know wants an agent.

Last month, at my RWA meeting, an agent came to speak. We had a full meeting and the whole atmosphere was very "When E.F. Hutton speaks, everybody listens," only, of course, we had the agent. (Side note, in real life E.F. should have been listening to himself because talk about a collapse of a brokerage firm). I have an agent and I was hanging on to her words. I wanted to know what was hot, what was not, how many queries, the process, what works, what doesn't. And, of course, the topic no one is really willing to talk about: money.

I was going to list my three top reasons for having an agent, but the Toto and Munchkin story says it all.Here's a picture of me and my agent Steve Laube just a few minutes after he won Agent of the Year at the American Christian Fiction Writers' conference.

I Won Book of the Year for Short Romantic Suspense!

Pamela Tracy here. Yeah, the one in the middle holding the plaque. (I'm standing between my roommates Lynn Rush and Avily) Ya know, it's hard to toot your own horn. It really is. But, if you can't say, "Hey, I did won this award for romantic suspense!" on the romantic suspense blog, where can you say it?" Here's the story. Last year, Broken Lullaby came out. It's the third in the what I call the "Broken Bones" trilogy. At the end of the year, I entered it in a few contests. The two contests I'm most excited about are the RITA, and the BOTY. This last weekend, I went to Denver to the conference hosted by the American Christian Fiction Writers. They are a fabulous group; I've belonged for quite awhile. Anyhoo, my book was a finalist. Man, was I up against some most excellent (line taken from Bill and Ted's Excellent Adventure) authors. I was up against Margaret Daley, Dana Mantink, Robin Caroll, and Debby Giusti. Sitting in the audience, looking at my plate, I knew, without a doubt, I would not win (I'd read all of the other books, you see). During the ceremony, as other winners gave their thanks, I did have enough forethought to jot names on the back of my dinner ticket (The size of a bus pass). I wrote Harlequin, Tina James, Steve Laube, God. Then, Ronie K. got behind the mic. Our pictures flashed on a big screen, and she read the first line. That's how ACFW announces the winner. They read the first line. So, here's the line. "I did not kill my wife." I'm sitting there, thinking, "Hmmm, I wrote a line exactly like that. For the book out now, but not for Broken Lullaby." Then, they read my name. OH WOW, I sent the wrong first line! OH WOW, I won!!! I tripped to the stage. Brandilyn Collins tried to give me the award. I'm pretty sure she finally pried open my hands and inserted plaque. I went behind the mic. Hmmm, my glasses are still on the table so the little piece of paper I'm holding means nothing. I can't see a word. I squeak (literally squeak... there was definitely a squeaking sound warbling through my acceptance speech - I was helpless to make it go away) out a thanks (forgot husband - don't tell) and then I went down the stairs where a woman waited to take my picture. I'm pretty sure she gave some directions, but finally she walked over and physically turned me so I was facing the camera and not the wall, and snap... the winner is photographed. Once that was done, I walked right out of the auditorium ((Okay, I'm pretty sure I looked like Forrest Gump as he headed off the football field and to the locker room.) In the atrium, Rhonda Gibson handed me her phone (she'd been calling home yelling She'd WON) so I could call my husband and squeak (I can't yell; only squeak) that I won. Then I went to the bathroom and cried. You know, besides thanking my husband, I needed to thank all the Love Inspired Suspense Writers. The only reason I was able to win such an award is because of the books all the LIS writers put out. They've built the line, built the readership. The imprints of all the LIS writers surround me. So, there's the tale of this years BOYT winner for short romanctic suspense. Oh WOW.