How I Got My Agent

“When you wish upon a star 

Makes no difference who you are

Anything your heart desires

Will come to you…”

No offense Jiminy Cricket, but that’s some grade-A baloney. It took more than simply “wishing upon a star” for my writing dreams to come true. It took years of hard work, hundreds of hours of research, tens of thousands of words, dozens of rejections, countless hours of revision, and many, many cups of tea and coffee. 

But it happened—I got my agent! Are you ready, folks? This is my “How I Got My Agent” post! 

It’s not a Cinderella story (guess I’m going with a Disney theme here). Nothing happened for me overnight. I have some friends who did have a quick journey (and they’re amazing!) but while their stories deserve celebrating, tales of quick success can leave other writers feeling discouraged. So, if you’ve been in the query trenches for years, I hope you find comfort in reading about my journey. Cause friends? It was hard. Querying is hard. Getting an agent is hard. And it took me a long time to reach success. But it’s okay! This is what I’ve learned—whether you’ve been writing for one year, ten years, or twenty years, there’s no norm when it comes to getting agented. You’re exactly on the journey you’re meant to be on, and it will look different for everyone. 

For now, we’re gonna take a stark look at how arduous it was for me to get an agent. I’m gonna get into the nitty-gritty, dirty reality of what the process was like. There will be no glamour here, no glitzy glass slippers. Nope, we’re gonna put on our galoshes and get down to earth. Like, nose in the mud close. And in the end, take heart that if you put in the time and work, your dream WILL come true, just like mine did!

Quick query stats

• Years writing full-length novels: 10

• Number of books written: 4

• Years querying (off and on): 6

• Number of books queried: 3

• Months querying my Agented-Book: ~10

• Agents queried: 75

• Partial requests: 4

• Full requests: 12

• Offers of rep: 1

It took ten years of writing and six years of querying to get an agent

I’ve been a writer my whole life. I wrote “picture books” about my family vacations on computer paper before I could even spell. Eventually, I graduated to short stories in grade school and very bad poetry in college (though I did produce some gems). 

But it wasn’t until my first year of graduate school that I decided to write a book. I was earning my MA in English Education and took a class on teaching YA literature. That class changed my life. Inspired by the incredible books in the curriculum, I started reading YA books voraciously and fell in love with the genre. One day, while driving home from class, a strange idea for a YA dystopian book popped into my head. As someone who had a bad habit of starting ambitious projects and never finishing them, I shrugged off the idea. I couldn’t finish scrapbooking my study abroad trip, so what business did I have trying to write an entire book? But I couldn’t get the idea out of my head, and so I decided to do it. I was completely naive about the process and didn’t do much research. Subsequently, that first book has moments of great writing, but as a cohesive narrative with compelling characters, proper plotting, thematic development, etc.? Ummm…yeah, it was trash. No one read it except my lovely and supportive husband, who said he loved it. It took me four years to write that first book. Four. But it was an exercise in proving I could finish something. And I proved myself right. 

Fast forward a few months. Another random idea hit me while on summer vacation with my family, this time for a YA contemporary. I wrote that book in just a couple years, taking time to dig through writing blogs and work on my craft. I decided to query the book and was determined to get published. After a few months of reading every entry on Query Shark and other querying blogs, I wrote my letter and discovered the unique torture that is the querying process. I got a few bites for that book, including a full request from a now prominent agent. I’ll never forget a line from her rejection along the lines of, “you’re a talented writer and clearly passionate about this topic.” Her kind words gave me the fuel I needed to write another book and not give up. 

As a side note, agent rejections are painful, but I’ve found some of the most encouraging feedback in personalized rejections. More on that below! Long story short, that YA contemporary did not get agented, so I wrote another book, which brings me to…

I found critique partners and joined a mentor program

When I moved to Denver, I was drafting my third book and decided I needed a critique group. I literally Googled “how to find writing critique partners,” and ended up joining the Facebook group Sub It Club where I connected with a fellow Denver writer (Hi, Jamie!) As someone with anxiety, the idea of sharing my writing with a complete stranger freaked the crap out of me. I also Googled, “do critique partners steal each other’s stories?” Yes, I know. Please don’t judge me. But Jamie was, and is, wonderful, and by her recommendation I signed up for a YA writing workshop through Lighthouse Writer’s Workshop. It was the kind of class where a group of ten or so people gather around a table and critique each other’s writing. I did two rounds of the workshop as I finished my third book. It was a vulnerable and terrifying experience, but one that toughened my skin, honed my craft, and gave me the grit I needed to develop relationships with other critique partners. I should add I tried out other critique groups through my local SCBWI chapter. While the people I met were lovely, it became too difficult coordinating schedules and driving distances. This is to say, some critique groups don’t work out, and that’s okay! Keep searching until you find one that fits.

All of this led up to Jamie introducing me to the online mentor program Author Mentor Match. My manuscript got chosen by the incredible Jessica Kim, and over the next year, I revised the book and got ready for my second round of querying. Alas, my AMM book did not get agented, but I found the most amazing group of critique partners who were also in the program. It was because of their support, friendship, and incomparable feedback that I wrote and revised my fourth book, a MG contemporary, over the next year and a half.  It was, as my close writing friend Janice said, my “heart book.” This one felt different. Many of my experiences and passions are woven into this book, and the writing simply poured out of me.

I queried my “heart book” and found my agent

In the summer of 2019, I entered the query trenches for the third time. I wasn’t sure what to expect, what with the COVID pandemic. But I figured if there was ever a time to embrace escapism and spread joy through literature, it was then. I workshopped my query letter with my CP’s and a few professionals, then sent it out in batches.

In the meantime, I participated in #DVPit on Twitter and my pitch got a lot of attention. One of the agents who requested a partial from that event ended up rejecting with thorough feedback. I went out on a limb and replied that her notes resonated with me, and would she consider looking at the book again after I revised? To my surprise, she said yes, and I did an overhaul on the book. By the way, you don’t have to do this if you get feedback during the querying process, but her notes really were spot-on. Revisions took me a few months. Then I dove back in again, sending off the revised manuscript to the original agent and more. Soon after, a different agent requested the full and summarily rejected with a long personalized letter full of suggestions and things she loved. This was a hard rejection, and I let the feedback marinate for a few days. After thinking it through, I realized the book needed more work. So for the second time, I postponed querying to revise.

After that round of revision was done, I started querying again and participated in a second #DVPit event. Rejections trickled in.

Finally, at the end of February, I submitted to Alyssa Eisner Henkin of Birch Path Literary. She’d recently started her own agency after working at Trident Media for a long time. I was impressed with her sales history, and charmed by the fact that her new agency name was partially inspired by one of my favorite books of all time: Anne of Green Gables. Kindred spirits, anyone? Anyway, at this point, I was totally numb to querying and submitted with zero expectations. I mean, Alyssa’s a rockstar agent and I was nearing the end of my query list. I’d resigned myself to the idea that I’d shelve this book and had already started working on my next one. Then Alyssa emailed me back only a few days later, asking for the full. I was surprised and excited, knowing that quick responses can be a good sign. But I’d been burned so many times before, I had already mentally prepped myself for the “inevitable” rejection. Except…that didn’t happen.

About a week after sending Alyssa my full, she emailed me back asking if I wanted to get on the phone for “The Call.”

I remember opening the email on my couch. My mouth fell to the floor. My body went a bit numb. My husband was in the middle of a work call, so I called my mom—the person who has been reading my stories from day one. I paced all over my living room in excitement, wringing my hands and confusing my poor dog. “I can’t believe this is happening,” I kept shrieking to my mom, “I can’t believe it!” I called my sister next, and afterwards, I finally ran upstairs and showed my husband the email. When he hugged me, I started crying.

I then immediately jumped into my CP group chat on Twitter, shared the news, and posted, “what do I do!?” One of my friends, Finn, replied with, “uh…set up the call!”

After several hours of screaming and celebrating with my writing friends, I replied to Alyssa’s email. Obviously, our call went great, and I signed with her about three weeks later. I’m so grateful to have her as a business partner and advocate, and I can’t wait to see what we do with this book and all my future ones.

Everything I did led me to where I am. Nothing was a “waste of time” 

There are times I wonder what my writing career would look like if things had happened differently. If I’d say, gotten an MA in creative writing, or if I’d gotten an agent for my second or third book instead of my fourth.

But I’m glad things happened the way they did. I didn’t need an MA in creative writing, and I wasn’t ready for an agent for my second or third book. I needed to develop my craft by doing the work. I needed to find Jamie, and Lighthouse, and eventually the AMM community.

If I hadn’t done that Lighthouse workshop, I wouldn’t have learned that my “YA” book was actually a MG book, and that my voice is geared towards younger readers. Yeah, that was a hard critique! The instructor, Victoria, looked at me at one point and said, “you’re a MG writer.” I was like, “are you sure, though?” I remember driving home that night feeling confused and anxious, but I eventually embraced the idea. And I’m so glad I did. If I hadn’t joined AMM, my writing skills wouldn’t be where they are now. And without my CP’s cheerleading and support, I might not have written the book that got me my agent.

I don’t remember where I read or heard it, but there’s a quote that has stuck with me all these years.

“Never, ever, ever, give up.”

That’s it. Simple and lacking in figurative language, but powerful all the same. No matter what stage you’re in with your publishing journey, never give up, friends. And happy writing!

Representation and Being "Jewish enough"

In 2015, YA writer Corinne Duyvis started the #ownvoices movement on Twitter, saying we should celebrate and publish “diverse characters written by authors from that same diverse group.”

That includes authors who are BIPOC and/or are members of a marginalized community. It has always been true, in my opinion, that marginalized authors represent their communities, experiences, and perspectives better than those who don’t share their marginalization. When a white author, for example, writes Black characters, they often misrepresent the Black community and reinforce negative stereotypes. Furthermore, they rob Black authors of the opportunity to write and share their own stories.

The publishing industry is still waking up to this truth. There’s growing awareness that when authors co-opt stories from marginalized groups, or write characters from diverse backgrounds not their own, they commit egregious harm to those communities. We’ve made strides with movements like Beth Phelan’s #DVPit event on Twitter where diverse writers pitch their stories to literary agents. But we still have a long way to go.

In that vein, it infuriates me when writers decide to write Jewish characters without a second thought. Don’t even get me started on Nazi romance books. Can those go away forever, please? Meanwhile, I’m over here sweating about whether or not I’m accurately representing my own community. 

I’m Jewish. I had a bat mitzvah. I lit menorahs instead of Christmas trees. I freaked out the first time I heard Adam Sandler’s Hanukkah Song on the radio, practically screaming, “I didn’t know all those people were Jewish like me!” Even as an adult, I celebrate seeing Jewish characters in pop culture (i.e. The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel) But...I’m not really religiously observant, not anymore. Sure, I celebrate the major holidays (I have noodle kugel in the fridge for Rosh Hashanah as I type this!) But I haven’t stepped foot inside a synagogue in a long time. And even growing up, my family didn’t partake in certain traditions. We didn’t keep kosher. We didn’t conduct full seders. We had a mezuzah but never touched it upon entering our house. 

The book I’m currently querying is about a young girl who’s about to become a bat mitzvah. I had my bat mitzvah when I was thirteen. Guess what? I still had to do tons of research to write my book. Cause here’s the thing—I know a lot about my own religion, but I don’t know everything. There was a lot I’d forgotten, like the names of certain prayers, and a lot I had never learned, like the rules of keeping kosher. 

I had so many questions when I stated writing: Was my bat mitzvah experience the same as other Jewish girls’? How do other synagogues handle mitzvah projects? What is the significance of becoming a bat mitzvah in different sects?  What’s the name of the table people read the Torah from? (It’s called a bimah, PS). Does every Jewish child go to Hebrew school? For how long? How are Torah portions chosen? The list goes on. 

I could’ve written my book without doing any research and called it #ownvoices. But that choice would’ve potentially caused a lot of harm. Because it doesn’t matter how I grew up. If I misrepresent or present falsities of what it means to be Jewish, I’m harming my community. With that said, my experience won’t resonant with or be familiar to all Jewish readers. There are many differences between Reform, Conservative, Orthodox, and Hasidic Jews. And that’s okay! But if I’m going to write about any of it, whatever I choose to write better be done well. And that’s where the anxiety comes in.

What if I get it wrong?

I went to Hebrew school and learned to read Hebrew (I still remember practicing writing letters in thick workbooks with my mom’s help). I attended Friday night services, celebrated holidays in my home, sang songs and chanted prayers in temple, enjoyed my mom’s brisket and my dad’s famous potato latkes (I’m sorry, but they’re the best. It’s just a fact). Obviously, I know a lot about Judaism because it’s how I grew up. But…is that enough? Sometimes I watch TV shows or movies with Jewish characters and go, “Oh, I don’t do that,” or, “Hmm…I didn’t realize that was a thing.” I didn’t even learn about Golems until I was in my twenties and visited the oldest synagogue in Prague. I watch Jewish people on Twitter post in Yiddish and go, “I have zero idea what that means.”

So I ask myself: Am I “Jewish enough?”

As I type that question, I know, rationally, it’s a silly thing to ask. No one can ever tell me I’m not Jewish. But look at the above paragraph! Look at me trying to justify my own Jewishness to myself! I know it’s ridiculous, but I’m still posting it because I know I’m not alone. I know other people from marginalized communities who stress about claiming that marginalization as their own, too.

But the fact that we’re stressing proves we care. It proves we love our communities so much we want to make absolutely sure we don’t let them down.

And I say this to myself and anyone who’s in the same boat as me: We are enough. We are who we are. And we need to keep writing.

L’Shanah Tovah, friends.

Writing in the Time of Covid-19

Imagine: Late March, 2020. Nighttime. After grading work, designing lesson plans for remote learning, and answering a slew of messages from my concerned and understandably overwhelmed high school students, I’m trying to write a Twitter pitch. This particular pitch will be used for a Twitter event (one of many out there) where I’ll pitch my book to literary agents and editors in the hopes it leads to an offer of representation. This pitch event comes after spending more than a year writing my middle-grade novel, sending it off to critique partners, revising it, and perfecting the dreaded query letter. It’s all part of my years-long attempt to become a traditionally published author. 

Flash forward: I pitched my book, and it got a lot of attention. I’m still early in my querying journey with lots of positive feedback to show for it. 

But along the way, I’ve wrestled with a small yet not inconsequential question: who cares?

After all that effort, all that work, all those days hoping and dreaming…I can’t help but sit back from my computer and ask, “who the [insert expletive] cares?”

Seriously. Here I am, trying to publish a cute, heartwarming story for 8-12 year-olds amidst a deadly and scary virus, racial injustice, a fumbling government, and a fracturing economy. Who, on this vast green earth, cares? Why should my book matter? Why have I chosen to divert my time, energy, and heart into writing a book in the face of all the life-altering turmoil around me?

There happens to be a very good reason. Several, actually. 

I’m going to challenge a quote from a cliché  movie DEAD POETS SOCIETY (and while I admit it’s totally cliché  I still love it…you can judge me a bit). At one point in the film, Mr. Keating gathers his students in a huddle and says, “…medicine, law, business, engineering, these are noble pursuits and necessary to sustain life. But poetry, beauty, romance, love, these are what we stay alive for.”

I’m gonna disagree with him, just a bit. Because I believe, like medicine and law, art also sustains. Art makes life possible. Back in March when my state, along with much of the world, went into Lockdown, I made an inventory of how to stay physically, mentally, and emotionally healthy. I decided to start exercising at home in addition to walking my massive Labrador retriever. I’m lucky enough to live in a home in a residential area where both are possible. I brainstormed novel ways to maintain my friendships and be social (Zoom brunch! FaceTime family chats!) Books, movies, music, and TV shows also became an integral part of how I restructured my life and decided to spend my time. Without these entertainment outlets, my time being stuck at home would be unbelievably miserable. I’m sure many others feel the same way. Whenever I’m feeling low, I’ve always turned to a favorite book, movie, or TV show to lift me up, give me a laugh, and help me forget about my troubles. That has never been more true than it is today.

And all of these stories, whether told on the page or on the screen, exist because someone took the time to write them. Someone put their ideas to the page and produced a story to share with others.

Am I not doing the same thing?

People have always needed stories as a way to escape. They will need stories after Covid-19, too. No one might care about my book now, but it’s my deepest hope they will care, one day, when it’s published and out in the world. I hope my book will offer people an escape and provide them with joy, the same way so many other stories have done for me.

My writing has sustained me more than it ever has before. Writing gives me hope, for myself and for my fellow writers, as we push forward with our dreams in defiance of the hurricane swirling around us. Because we know that no matter what happens, for better or worse…the world will always needs another story.