How NOT to Get an Agent

Most publishers won’t give a novel the “time of day” without representation. That’s why, after spending years polishing, and updating my “Nickie” novel, the agent hunt has begun.

With that said, there are plenty of ways to not win over an agent. We’ll bypass the obvious: Submitting a less than stellar novel. If one must fail, let it have nothing to do with the quality of one’s work.

Here are three mistakes that can almost guarantee a rejection from a literary agent:

Mistake #1 – Talking Too Much During a Pitch

When I registered to attend a writers’ conference that took place in May, I also signed up to speak with an agent. I prepared my pitch ahead of time, and even tried to memorize it. In case I couldn’t remember (and I couldn’t) I took a typed version with me.

At one-on-one sessions like this, agents understand authors might be nervous. To take the pressure off, they’ll usually let you read from your notes.

Over the years, I’ve done quite a few pitches. I used to pretend I wasn’t nervous beforehand. This time, my nerves outdid themselves. I lost sleep and even missed a workshop, hoping the extra time would help me prepare. All it did was make me more nervous.

When the time came to meet the agent, I asked her if it would be okay if I read my pitch. She allowed it. But I didn’t stop after reading my brief, prepared summary. I deluged the poor woman under a tsunami of enthusiasm for my story, blasting out favorite scenes at a speed unmatched by rocket ships, hurtling from the atmosphere. A revised version of the old “Life Alert” advertisement came to mind. “I’m talking and I can’t shut up!”

To the agent’s credit, she invited me to email my query and include the first 15 pages of the manuscript. I took her up on the offer, including a heartfelt apology for my word blast. It’s been three months with no response. I think that counts as a no.

Mistake #2 – Disregarding an Agent’s Advice

At the end of July, I attended an online writers’ conference and signed up to virtually “meet” another agent. This time, it wasn’t so much a pitch session as a critique. The conference referred to the experience as a “roundtable” with an agent. Fourteen other authors, and I occupied squares similar to a Zoom meeting. Before we began, the agent assured us, “This is a safe space.” We took turns giving our pitch. Then the agent listed all the positives for each pitch, while gently suggesting areas of improvement.

Because I expected a typical pitch session when I registered, I “hired” a free pitch coach who helped me craft a decent proposal.

At the roundtable, I volunteered to go first. Unlike my in-person encounter from before, I stuck to my script, which allowed time for the agent’s feedback. She liked the story’s concept but thought my word count was too high. She also suggested that I change my main character’s age from 14 to 13. In the end, everyone who participated could submit a proposal to the agent via “Query Tracker,” an online, fill-in the blanks-type document. There are separate spaces for name, title, word count, and places to copy and paste longer answers, like the query letter and the first 20 pages of the manuscript. I sent my submission right away.

In my query letter, I referenced her recommended modifications. I agreed to lower my word count, even though I still listed the higher count on the form. As for the character’s age, I agreed to bump it down provided the character still attended high school. Maybe, I suggested, the character could skip a grade, or we could change the category to YA.

I received an emailed, form-letter rejection after exactly one week.

I can’t help wondering. What might have happened if I hadn’t given her my take on her suggested revisions? Fourteen people spoke after I did. She could have forgotten what she told me. 🤣

Mistake #3 – Offering an Agent Something She Doesn’t Want

Another agent spoke on a panel at that same virtual conference, and mentioned that she represents everything from picture books to YA. At one point she admitted she hated rhyming picture books, but added, “Prove me wrong.” That sounded encouraging … at least for rhyming picture book authors. She also said, “I don’t want books about dead parents.”

The virtual conference is over, but I have video access to all the workshops, keynotes and panels. After my recent agent rejection, I went back and rewatched the panel with the “no dead parents” agent. Her actual words were, “No dead parents on chapter one.” Since nobody dies until chapter 18 in my novel, I submitted my proposal to her query tracker which requested the first 50 pages. Could those pages convince her I hadn’t written a typical “dead parent” novel?

My “coach,” who seems to be morphing into a cheerleader, thinks so. Here is the response:

A rejection after only a week stings, especially when you’ve spent so much time getting the pitch exactly where you wanted it. But I don’t think this particular rejection tells you much about Nickie. A week is awfully fast for a manuscript-level judgment, and agents reject perfectly good books for all kinds of reasons that have nothing to do with whether the book works.And then you did something I love: You got back on the horse. And you queried the No Dead Parents agent. 😂 But now that you’ve rewatched the panel, your gambit makes more sense. “No dead parents on chapter one,” is a very different statement than simply, “No dead parents.” And your response—“What about chapter 18?”—is wonderfully you. 🤣 More importantly, it isn’t just a gimmick. You have the pages to back it up.

The first 50 pages that I submitted ended after chapter six. That’s so early in the novel that Nickie hasn’t even met the dying parent yet. And just maybe, if the agent is bored by this progression: Child loses parent → child is sad → child heals … she might be interested in something different. In “Nickie,” death isn’t the premise. It’s the catalyst. The story is about friendship, faith, assumptions, hope, and what love looks like when it can’t fix the problem.

But, who’s to say? The agent did specify, “No dead parents.”🤣

I’ll keep you posted. 😄