On being called a "gatekeeper"

A deeper understanding of the role of literary agents

Today’s tea: Earl gray “English morning”

Books I’m reading: Absalom, Absalom by William Faulkner

---

I’ve seen writers sometimes refer to literary agents as the ‘gatekeepers’ of the publishing industry.

I don’t entirely agree with this notion - though of course I’m biased in that opinion, so you are free to dismiss what I’m about to say, but I’ll add it’s also an opinion I shared before becoming an agent myself.

Defining the ‘agent’ and the ‘gatekeeper’

First, let’s hammer home a definition of gatekeeping. Gatekeeping - apparently Vogue’s “word of the year” in 2022 - is essentially the practice of controlling access to information, education, fandom, industry, etcetera.

Second, let’s define the literary agent. Literary agents are the liaisons between the author and the publisher. We are middlemen, essentially. The burden of negotiating a book contract and its subrights, negotiating royalty percentages, handling will ultimately fall on an agent in a traditional publishing model.

Essentially, we help writers understand contract language, the nature of copyright, royalty percentages, and other clauses in a given publishing contract. We handle complex legal requests by the author or fight for more favorable language - like right of first refusal, force majeure clauses, etc.

A good, reputable agency will have boilerplates in place with publishers that already have mutually agreed upon language and go from there.

Agents are responsible for the fiduciary side of publishing, ensuring royalty statements and advances are accurate, on time, taxed correctly, and distributed properly (especially in complex cases like international transfers, taxes, and tariffs).

And perhaps most importantly, more established agents will have a deep network of publishing professionals and a natural feel for the publishing market in a way that would be largely beneficial to a writer long term. Most traditional publishers won’t even consider an author’s book proposal without an agent, even if there’s a deal in hand. This is the ‘gate’ in question that agents are ‘keeping’.

Though, there are publishers that accept unagented submissions that aren’t self or hybrid models, but they are typically smaller presses with narrower distribution methods. There are exceptions of course, like the >1% of self-published authors who manage to sell an impressive enough number of copies that it caught the eye of a publisher, or authors who are celebrities or run a newsletter, social media following, or have such a level of fame that they can bypass an agent altogether.

But generally speaking, this ‘gate’ that barriers the writer from the traditional trade publisher is what has driven many rejected writers toward other models of publishing and has since led to a whole new market of published literature altogether.

Agents are wary of self-publishing’s meteoric rise in prevalence among writers because it may ultimately lead to the disintegration of agenting as a profession entirely.

This begs the question: are literary agents actually necessary?

“Isolation”. Photo by Kareem Abo El Magd on Unsplash

Agents are business partners for authors

I would say, functionally, for authors pursuing a route that doesn’t require an expense of resources, money, and DIY-ing like self-publishing does, that a literary agent is crucially important.

I’d view it like representing yourself in court. You are more than welcome to do so, but it may be in your best interest to find a representative or counselor (whether it’s a lawyer or an agent) for whatever it is you are attempting to pursue or protect.

While the stakes in that example are probably a bit different than simply going on sub in a trade literary market, you are still entrusting your writing career on a worker who wants the best for your career. Because agents (much like contingency-basis lawyers) don’t get paid until they sell your book. When a writer’s book dies on sub, the agent’s chance at getting a commission dies with it.

A literary agency agreement is kind of like a partnership. An agent’s agenda will be closely aligned with the goals of their writer because their income is directly correlated with the success of their client list. The author doesn’t work for the agent and the agent doesn’t work for the author - it’s a mutual agreement where each party gets what they want.

Not to mention, all of the agonies of querying, waiting for a reply, nudging, responding to criticisms and R&Rs that writers so frequently complain about are all things that literary agents also experience. While we may not have the same personal attachment to the work that a writer has, there is still a level of disappointment on their behalf, and with dozens of clients.

Even with an agent, an unfortunate reality is that a large percentage of agented books still die on sub, and that percentage may continue to grow so long as there are greater volumes of submissions with less cuts of the pie to distribute it. As long as volume of shelf space diminishes. As long as the industry continues to be threatened by stuff like AI, book bans, and literacy crises.

So if lit agents are necessary, why are agents considered gatekeepers?

The ‘market’ is the ‘gate’

Agents typically have to bend to the whim of the market and what’s selling or predicted to sell. Many agents will have established relationships with editors who can be just as particular (if not more) about their wishlists and many times even agents will edit or amend their wishlists to somewhat reflect what editors are looking for.

Resources like Publishers Marketplace, Publishers Weekly, BookScan, IngramSpark, NYT and countless other (usually paid) subscription services will give most industry folks an insider perspective of which books are selling and which aren’t, and publishing teams will have departments dedicated to analyzing sales and profit-and-loss sheets (P&Ls) that are likely deciding factors on whether they acquire a similar title.

Because despite their being so many incredible, amazing artists in this industry - so many wonderful people I’ve met who do care about literature and understand it at a deeper level, it is still a business and publishing executives have to make business decisions.

With all of this in mind, agents have to be extremely selective with their lists, rejecting author queries at a rate of (if I had to guess) probably 99%. When an agent reads a query, they are already looking for reasons to say no before reasons they yes.

To say yes to any higher percentage means taking on a lot of dead weight clients, queries that end in quagmires, writers we feel we’ve let down. Just because we opened up to more clients doesn’t mean publishers are open to acquiring more books. In fact, it is much more common for publishers to cut down on their list sizes, making it even harder for the agent.

So, agents are essentially the coffee filter of the publishing industry, taking on the broader bandwidth of writers submitting pitches for their books so the publishers can focus on fewer submissions but with more care, consideration, and logistical merit.

This creates a filtration system where only the most edited, most vetted, most proofread, most carefully considered books are the ones that make it to the finish line.

This is the reason for a ‘gate’.

Photo by CHUTTERSNAP on Unsplash

The integrity of literature

But even if gatekeepers are what we are - I don’t entirely think that’s a bad thing. The usual negative connotation with the idea of gatekeeping is that it is a power trip for the gatekeeper, but that isn’t always the case, and certainly not in the case of an agent.

Gatekeeping, in certain circumstances, can be to protect something. And in this regard, I believe passing manuscripts through the filters of proofreaders, agents, acquisitions editors, publishing directors and producers will ultimately yield more meaningful books. It’s also the reason I believe the role of literary agents holds a lot of merit in protecting the integrity of literature, at least to a certain extent.

Since embarking on a career in traditional publishing, the very first thing that will astonish you is how many hands touch a book. And to me, it does make the book more special, because it takes a village. It makes one book feel like a team - a community - that put a lot of effort from the moment the agent offers rep to the moment it’s being signed at a bookstore.

With the advent of self-publishing routes, there are so many books. And while I love that; I love that more people are writing; I love that more authors are asking questions; I love that artists are taking matters into their own hands; and I love that writers are prioritizing making their rights theirs, my fear is that with this massive influx of books that much of it has become too overly saturated.

Not every self-published title goes through the community of hands it takes to make a great book, and while of course there are exceptions to this - and also a bevy of writers who tried things the traditional way and it didn’t work out - there’s a lot of books out there that are simply sludge pile, poorly-written, banter-filled, not carefully vetted, or simply out-of-touch that sadly by its presence alone takes away from a more skillfully written and professionally edited work.

With each shelf a new book takes up, another backlist title gets taken down. A win for the individual but a blow to the community.

There are more and more ways for us to speak up, yet fewer and fewer ways to be heard.

I take no pleasure in rejecting manuscripts, it’s the part of the job I loathe the most. The joys of being an agent comes from working with so many wonderful, creative writers with dreams of their own, and being just one of the tools in their toolbox to make that dream happen, and being part of a trade that is so much bigger than yourself, as literature throughout all of history is so integral to having a critical, functioning democracy.

I would love to hear other perspectives on this, as I was (still am) a writer too and have been on the other end of receiving agent rejections or getting ghosted by publishing professionals.

I am also very aware traditional publishing is not perfect and has a plethora of flaws that I’ve even addressed on this newsletter and my website blog, and none of this is to discourage writers from other routes that are still viable, but I am more committed to finding actionable ways of addressing the flaws of traditional rather than seeking new routes altogether.

Because ultimately, I feel the resources, networking, and personal relationship an agent brings to an author are more meaningful to the author in the long run.