Hey, There's A Dead Guy in the Living Room

Hail, and Farewell

Janet Reid

When Jeff Cohen asked me to be Miss Tuesday I was flattered. I said yes instantly. And it's been a lot of fun. 

I've enjoyed writing the longer format posts here (my other blog is more quick bursts of ranting and cursing!) and doing these posts has been good practice for trying to write cogently (ok, some of them are more cogent than others!)

But, it's been a year, and I'm running out of things to say.  Say, rather than complain.  Complaints I got. Profound thoughts, not so much.

I realized I couldn't just call Jeff up and say "I've run out of things to say, so long, see you at Yankee Stadium"  I had to say "I'm toast, but here's a new slice of pumpernickel for all your Tuesday morning breakfast needs."

And then, in a bolt of brilliance, a name came to me.

Barbara Poelle.  Barbara is more than a slice of pumpernickel. She's a saucy baguette and a raspberry croissant all served up into one delicious meal.  I adore her.  I envy her.  I admire her taste in husbands. I'm pleased as punch to call her my friend, my colleague and my replacement here at Dead Guy.

Barbara is responsible for many new phrases in my lexicon. "Monkey knife fight" is one of my favorites. I'm sure I'll be learning others as she writes here.  I'm looking forward to it. I hope you will come to love her as much as I do.

So, hail and farewell. Thank you for the opportunity to be part of this blog, and for reading my posts this year.  The best though, the best is yet to come!

Welcome Barbara!

May You Live in Interesting Times

Janet Reid

I've always heard the phrase "may you live in interesting times" described as an old Chinese curse. Wikipedia scoffs, and the source of the phrase really doesn't matter now. It's firmly lodged in our lexicon as a curse, and it's the exact description of the last couple months here in publishing: interesting!

As I look back, I think the interesting times started in 2007 with the AMS bankruptcy, which rolled over PGW and caused a massive fallout that took Avalon down, among others.

Then came the Borders decision to cut back on stock. They called it turning books face out on the shelves.  Publishing friends of mine called it 30% returns in a month.

The layoffs at MacAdam/Cage this summer turned out to be just a preview of the layoffs and restructurings that rolled through New York last month: Doubleday, Broadway, Touchstone/Fireside, FSG.  

I felt a little bit like Madam Defarge knitting names, but I was just keeping a list of the people who were losing their jobs (but not their heads, thank god!)  

And yet.

I had my best year ever in 2008. I sold more, I sold for higher figures, and my clients sold more books than we did the year before.

Several of my colleagues said the same thing to me about their year.  Much of it was said sotto voce, as though, if we said it out loud, we'd be tempting the fates.  

There's a lot of reason to be worried about what may come, that's true.  This economy isn't going to recover overnight, and when it does recover, there's no guarantee we won't be seeing some radical changes in how books are produced and sold.

And yet.

My job isn't to sell work to hardcover publishers.  My job is to represent authors for the sale of their work.  Format changes, production changes won't put me out of a job.  Someone needs to be there to make sure the contracts don't give the licensee the rights to your kidney, your kid or your next five novels. Someone needs to be there to make sure the royalty statements are right.

Authors won't be out of a job.  Story tellers have been with us since we started communicating with each other, and that's been 50,000 years or so.

Booksellers won't be out of a job.  What that job looks like and how/where it happens may change, but someone has to take the money, make the recommendation, keep track of the inventory, hand me my new copy of something wonderful.

Publishers and editors won't be out of a job.  No matter how much easier it gets to "publish" there will always be a demand for the book which has value added by the art department (cover and book design), an editor, a marketer and a publicist. How all that looks, and how they operate may change, but those people aren't going away any time soon.

What is going to happen is there are going to be fewer of us.  Fewer books published perhaps, but certainly fewer people doing the publishing side of things.

The kinds of books that get published will change too.  There's going to be a lot more emphasis on "content" that can be "chunked" ie content that can be sold in different formats, different pieces and at different times.  Novels aren't good candidates for chunking; non-fiction is much better and prescriptive non-fiction and educational non-fiction is better.  

None of this is going to happen by remote control or by robots. Whatever happens, people who know and love books and embrace the excitement of living in interesting times will be needed.

I intend to be one of them.  I hope you will be too.

It's certainly going to be interesting!

Feeling Slightly Crazy? Ok, How about Now? Now?

Janet Reid

 

Behavioral scientists found a way to make even the sanest of their lab rats go nuts pretty quickly: random shocks.  Rats could deal with regular shocks. We can too: every day at noon the fire siren goes off, and even if you live next door, you get used to it.  Go to elementary school, and bells ring all the time, but they ring at scheduled times. 

 

If you randomize the noise, the fire alarm at dawn one day, midnight the next; or you start changing when the school bell rings, stress levels go up, and the subjects go nuts.  Nuts being the clinical term for slightly/totally crazy.

 

I mention this because publishing is now undergoing a period of random shocks.  Today came news of layoffs at the venerable FSG.  Sure we knew more layoffs were in the works somewhere but not knowing where or when makes getting the news a random shock.

 

So, don't be surprised if we all go slightly crazy for a while.

 

As I started to think about this topic I realized that people writing query letters are subjected to random shocks and unreliable information pretty much constantly.  It's a wonder none of them have gone postal. 

 

Rejection letters come intermittently. They all say different things.  Agents and editors blogs and conference panels provide contradictory information.  The only way to stop the stress is to quit querying, and for most writers that means an end to their dream of being published. They'd rather endure the shock, and be a little crazy than give up.

 

I admire that tenacity.  I wish I could alleviate some if it, but so far I've been unable to convince everyone in publishing to do things my way, to have my submission guidelines etched in stone.  It's a terrible disservice to writers, so clearly it's my public duty to persevere in my evil plan for world domination. (Hang on for a second, I need to put up a lightning rod, I see a bolt or two headed straight at my head...) 

 

Ok, I'm back.

 

In the articles I read about the crazy rats, it was clear that the usual stress relievers worked for rats too.  They included 1. companionship, particularly with a rat who wasn't getting shocked; 2. exercise; 3. eating; 4. drinking; and  the most important 5. getting a way to feel in control. Rats who could push a lever to reduce the shock got used to the shocks pretty quickly.

 

What this means for writers is first recognizing that querying is stressful.  Eat, drink, exercise and make time to be with friends is as important now as ever.  And set up a way to feel some control over the process.  I'm not sure what that would be but my guess is the writers who read this blog will have some ideas.

 

And perhaps remembering too, that no matter what craziness goes on in publishing, the one person who will always have a job, ALWAYS, is the story teller.  All the rest of us depend on your work.  We add value to it, we help you, sure.  But you're the one, the point upon which the entire \/ of publishing rests.

 

Since we're all going to be a little crazy for awhile, during this Chinese Year of the Rat, maybe we can all help each other out a little bit too.

I'm not exactly sure how but maybe you all have some ideas about things agents could do to make you slightly less crazy.

 

 

Wolfe Whistle!

Shameful confession of the year: I've never read a Nero Wolfe novel. Nero Wolfe's creator, Rex Stout, is one of the great icons of the crime fiction community and my canonical oversight really should be the subject of a 2009 New Year's Resolution.

 

Despite my dereliction, The Wolfe Pack, comprised of devoted Nero Wolfe fans, was kind enough to welcome me to their annual Black Orchid Banquet.  I went because a pal of mine was receiving an award and I wanted to be there to cheer for him.

 

Imagine my delight to find several other friends in attendance and a warm welcome from everyone else.  Needless to say, I'm joining immediately and planning to attend next year, even if there is some dreadful oversight and a friend of mine does not get the Black Orchid Novella Award (called, so far, the BONA, not to be pronounced aloud above 14th Street!)

 

One of the evening's highlights was being present to see Jane Cleland (current  president of the NYC chapter of Mystery Writers of America, and author of the Josie Prescott mystery series) as part of the "must be seen to be believed" dance troupe.  You didn't know Jane was a dancer? Me either.  It seems that one of the traditions of the Black Orchid Banquet is that each of the tables write and perform a song; something in keeping with the theme of the evening. Jane's table wrote words to the Goldfinger theme song.  The gentlemen sang; the ladies...undulated.  Undulate as in the opening montage of the James Bond movies.  You really had to be there. I was and it is a memory I will cherish for life.

 

I'm told Bouchercon2009 will have a Nero Wolfe/Rex Stout banquet that is the same kind of event as the Black Orchid Banquet I attended on Saturday.  I'm so there! I'm praying Jane and her troupe will be as well!

 

Another highlight was discovering the office of FinePrint Literary Management is on the same street as Nero Wolfe's famous brownstone. There is some question about the specific house number (it said to be 918, 506, 922, 902 and 914 in various books) but clearly it's on 35th Street.  Needless to say, I'm now on a mission to go see the house (the City of New York placed a plaque at 454 West 35th to mark the spot) and take advantage of the proximity.  After all, a literary agent who lives on the same street as Nero Wolfe should be pretty good at selling crime fiction, and solving the mystery that is royalty statements right?

 

As I now know, Nero Wolfe would say "Most satisfactory!"

 

Why Publishing is Like a Trip to Paris

Janet Reid

 

Bonjour! Ca va? Avez-vous eu un bon week-end? Avez-vous manger trop? Ce que la vache sauter par-dessus la lune?

 

If, like me, you've squandered away some hours in French classes you can probably piece your way through the first four sentences above.  Hello! How are you? Did you have a nice weekend? Did you eat too much?

 

It's that fifth sentence. You recognize the words, but suddenly, you're not on firm ground about what they mean: The something sauteed the moon?  What the hell does that mean?

 

I was recently reminded of what it's like to parse out meaning in an unfamiliar language when I found myself explaining "publication date" does not mean the date the books come off the printing press.  "Pub date" is used among us Book Language speakers to mean the day the book is available for sale in stores. In other words, off the press, out of the warehouse, out of receiving and on the shelves.  You can intuit there might be a gap of four to six weeks between "published" off the press and "published and available for sale."

 

Mais, sacre bleu, how would anyone know that? Until you learn Book Language publishing is a foreign country. Like France. And like planning a trip to Paris, becoming acquainted with the publishing industry has stages. 

 

The first stage is you fall in love and want to go there. You love to read. You love to write, you want to be a writer.  Everything about writing and reading sounds great. Then you find out that people might actually pay you to do this, and sacre bleu, the vache saute sur la lune! (the cow jumps over the moon!)

 

Then you save up money for a ticket.  If you're a writer this means you spend some time learning how to write. High school, college, critique groups.  Some people are born knowing how to do this; some people have trust funds to pay for a ticket. Not many, not most. Probably not you. 

 

 

Then you decide where to go. You get a map.  This is when you write a novel.  You decide what you're going to write, and get it all down. An itinerary.

 

Then you book the plane tickets.  You query an agent. It helps if you know the difference between "business class" and "economy red eye" and "multiple stops" and "non stop" when you talk to the travel agent, but a good agent helps you sort out all that stuff, and helps you figure out what you can afford. And helps you get there.

 

 

And then you arrive, and you're published.  And you're standing there at Charles DeGaulle airport, valise in hand, and Sacre Bleu, what the HELL just happened here!  They're all speaking French! They're speaking French very FAST! And they are annoyed as hell that you are blocking the sidewalk, taking up space, speaking English, and looking clueless.

 

Even the French who work in tourist dependent industries are known to loathe the people who make their industry possible. Particularly if they don't speak the language. And more so if they don't even try.  As you might imagine, there are days I feel their pain. Why don't these people know what pub date means? How can you possibly think we will be doing just one more revision on a book that's been sent to the printer?

 

So, how do you learn about France before you go?  How do you learn Book Language before you're there?  Immersion. And one of the best ways to immerse yourself these days is simply read the blogs of people in the industry. There is an extraordinary wealth of information on the web about how publishing works. What pub date means. What SASE means. What "returns" mean.  What "literary agent from hell" means. 

 

I'm re-learning to sew right now.  I haven't had a class in sewing since 8th grade Home Ec, and that was more years ago than I care to reveal thank you.  Fabrics, machines, styles have ALL changed.  Yes I can sew a straight seam, and I know what a pattern is but after that, I count myself a novice.

 

It's been a bountiful education to discover sewing blogs. People who sew and write about what they made, what worked, what didn't, what patterns had instructions that made no sense, and what they did instead.  Those blogs are an extraordinary resource as I start out not knowing much other than "I want to sew a dress."

 

The only thing that makes it possible to read these blogs rather then keep thinking "I should be reading these blogs but I don't ever remember to" is GoogleReader.  I mentioned GoogleReader last week, and I'm back on the soapbox about it again.  

GoogleReader keeps track of all the blogs I've subscribed to. It tells me when the blogs have new posts. It lets me mark ones I want to re-read, ones I'm done reading, and best of all it has a suggestion feature. Based on what I've subscribed to already, it suggests other blogs.  If you're  starting out and just learning the lay of the land, this is invaluable. It's how I found at least six of my favorite sewing blogs (and I've found some amazing book blogs and reconnected with some old favorites as well.)

 

To get to google reader, go to google and type "google reader" in the search box. If you don't have a google account it will prompt you to create one. Once you're at the google reader site, there's a button that says "add subscription".  You can start by adding this blog. And my blog at jetreidliterary.blogspot.com

 

I subscribe to 117 blogs right now.  I don't read 117 every day. I don't have to remember to click on 117 every day. But when one of my favorite new friends The Abbeville Manual of Style has a rousing new battle with their formidably orange opponent The Chicago Manual of Style, I'm there! 

 

Or as they say in France: Aux armes, citoyens Formez vos bataillons, Marchons, marchons!

Thanksgiving

Janet Reid

There will be a lot of blog posts about what to give thanks for this week.

I'm thankful for the election of the new president.  Not just who won (but yes, I am thankful for that as well), but that once again, we transferred power peacefully.  Even in the shadow of war and a crashing economy, there were no tanks or riot police in the streets.  Neither Barack Obama, nor John McCain, had to seize power. We lent it. Willingly.

Despite the intense differences and harsh rhetoric on both sides, when the votes were counted, we all agreed that was how it was going to be. There's a lot to be thankful for in that.

I'm thankful for the blog posts by Dick Cavett that run on the New York Times webpage.  I'd love to be even half as smart, half as witty, half as influential as Dick Cavett.  

I'm thankful for Sarah McLachhlan, whose performance at the American Music Awards was televised last night. I watched in the local laundromat my usual  Sunday night location.  Her lovely voice reminded me that art elevates us all.  It was interesting everyone else in the laundromat turned to watch and listen to her too.  

I am thankful for Tara Dononvan whose exhibit at the Institute for Contemporary Art in Boston reminded me artists can find beauty and innovation in the most common everyday objects.  Their art then transforms how we see things.  

I am thankful for the wisdom of Father Santo, my parish priest, whose homily on Sunday was drawn from the Gospel of Mathew: what you did to the least of these my brethren, you did to Me. Just when we are all worried about the economy and what will happen to our jobs, and our finances, Father Santo reminded us that what we give when it is hardest is the measure of our humanity. Facing the worst economic crisis in eighty years is frightening. Father Santo reminded us all that fear is the opposite of love.

I'm thankful for Jeff Cohen who invited me to be a part of this blog and gave me the opportunity to talk about things that mean a lot to me, and the book publishing industry which I love beyond reason.  

And I'm thankful for those of you who read it and comment in return.

Happy Thanksgiving indeed.

Whew! That's done!

Today is the first of a year of Tuesdays  I'm not going anywhere. I can't tell you how much I'm looking forward to it.  I've been gone 20 of the last 60 days with travel and attendance at writing conferences and Bouchercon.

It's been fun for sure, but whew! 

As I look back on more than twenty conferences in two years I've learned a couple things about what I will and won't do anymore.

1.  I won't go to a conference that isn't located in the same city as the airport. No more three hour drives to the conference center.

2. I'm not keen on going to a conference if I have to change planes to get there. Schedule changes and delays on a direct flight are hell. It's hell to the second degree when you've got another city involved.

3.  I'm not going to a conference that doesn't vet the attending agents. I've been mortified to find myself on panels with self described agents who mostly swan around to conferences talking about writing techniques and demonstrate a puzzling lack of knowledge about how selling books actually works.

I certainly don't expect conferences to ask me whom to invite.  Some conference coordinators, like writers, can't tell if an agent falls into the swan category.  My only defense is just not to go.  I'm planning to be much more proactive about asking for the roster before I say yes.

4. I'm not going to attend conferences that focus on pitch sessions.  Pitch sessions are the least effective way to get my attention. It works sometimes, but I need  writing.  I'm going to say yes to conferences that make an effort to organize it so pages can be sent ahead of time. I'm also going to focus on those that let me meet with people for ten minutes and who are allowed to bring pages to the conference.

5. And I'm going to continue to say yes to CrimeBake in Deadham Dedham (thanks Abby!) MA sponsored by New England MWA and Sisters in Crime.  It's one of the very best conferences I've ever attended.  And I can get there on the train.

CrimeBake is organized by a troupe of writers and other volunteers who've made it their mission to produce an event that people like so much they come year after year. It's not uncommon to see "4th" "5th" and "6th" Crimebake on nametags.  

It's also got the very best conference bar. It's not dark, there's no live music, and only one television. There are several comfy benches, and lots of tables. The service is so slow it keeps us all there way too long and that's half the fun.

CrimeBake totally rocks.

If you want to hit a great conference in 2009, that's the one to hit.

They may actually pry me out of conference retirement...maybe!

I've Gone Over to the Dark Side

Janet Reid

I walked by the book rack at Duane Reade on 34th Street a couple days ago, clutching a vat of face spackle and a bag of cotton balls.  I'm in Duane Reade almost every day buying one sort of something or another. Among the few things I haven't bought there are books. (Duane Reade is the NYC drugstore chain for those who live outside the area.)

I used to buy books at places like Duane Reade.  In fact much of my early book buying was at the grocery store: that was the store I was in most often.  I'd pore over the book rack and find an author I liked or a book that sounded good. I discovered Dick Francis at the grocery store, also Catherine Aird, Emma Lathen and Sue Grafton.

 

I chose books there the same way I chose them at the library: I'd look at the selection and pick several, then winnow them down to one or two; choices based most likely on cover price at the store or how many I could stuff in my bag at the library.

 

When I was buying books at the grocery store, or checking them out from the library I had to look at what was on the shelf to get an idea of what to select. Reviews didn't suggest choices or books to look for: mysteries didn't get review space in any paper or magazine I read. No one I knew read mysteries or if they did, we didn't talk about them.

But I've never bought a book at Duane Reade because how I select books has changed. It's changed from the years I actually set foot in grocery stores, to now, when I don't.

It's changed because twenty six blogs and three dozen websites cough up info about new or great or overlooked mysteries to my GoogleReader every single day. (If you don't know about GoogleReader go here.  It's great.)

I don't need to look at the selection on the shelves to get an idea of what's available or to know what I want to buy. More often now I'm buying online from Amazon because when I see something that looks good (from that myriad of sources) it's a whole lot easier to click once at Amazon and presto, magic have it delivered.

This does not bode well for my friends and boon companions who are running retail book operations.  

When Amazon first reared its head up in Seattle and started gnawing at the corners of the retail book market I was pretty sure it would get a belly ache and die of indigestion within a couple years.

Boy was I wrong.

I've never had much love for Amazon. Certainly not anywhere close to the warm feeling I have for my treasured bookstore friends: Twenty Third Avenue Books in Portland, Annie Blooms in Portland, Murder by the Book in Portland, and my general preference for pretty much any indie store in all the world instead of the faceless hulk that is T-Rex Amazonicus.

So, why do I buy from Amazon? Because when I know what I want, it's the easiest, fastest way to get it.  I'd buy from the indies if it was fast and easy too but it's not.

Then today, I went over to the Dark Side and actually became part of Amazon.  They snagged me the way all pushers do. They gave me something I needed, and they gave it to me for free.

If you look at my website, at the bottom of each page, you'll see what it is.

 

At the bottom of each page is a scrolling gallery of book covers.

We have a much more elegant version of this on our FinePrint website.

We also paid a website designer to create it and one of the godsends is tasked with updating it frequently. 

I wasn't willing to spend much time or any money to have a gallery like that.

But, I needed book covers on my website. I'd been trying to figure out how to post them as individual pictures for a while.  I had limited success largely because I'm witless about even the simplest template-based websites (such as mine), and because the book covers pictures I had all came in different sizes and some of them looked weird.

It was a half baked and unsatisfactory solution.

 

Today I was over at Bill Cameron's blog.

I noticed his scroll.  I was poised to email "Bill, how did you do that" cause I know he's very very smart about these things. Then I noticed "get widget." And I clicked.

 

Amazon has made it as simple as click and paste for me to have something I want. I want book covers on my site. I'm ok with linking to a retailer cause I want people buying my client's books.

I'd prefer they linked to indie stores but they don't.

I'll take what I can get. 

Indie book retailers have a big challenge facing them.  Indie bookstores have long touted themselves as the thinking person's place to buy books; that hand selling, offering information and suggestions was their strength.  When I look at my own book buying pattern and my own interactions with retailers, I think handselling is a smaller and smaller niche because there are so many other places to hear about great books (my website for example!). And now, even though I love indie bookstores, everyone who clicks on my website gets directed to Amazon.

Indie bookstores are right to not like this. I don't much like it either.  But we all need to recognize that what I want ISN"T to send people to Amazon. What I want is the cool widget that shows my client's books on my website.

If I could get it another way I would.

Let me say that again: If I could get it another way, as easily and for free, I would.

And if I could buy books as easily from indies as I can from Amazon, I would. I want to support indies, I do. But no retailer gets rich for political reasons. Retailers thrive when they give customers what they want. 

 

I'm not sure what the answer is. I just wish I was part of the solution instead of part of the problem.

 

Why I Love Danielle Steel

Janet Reid

It's very fashionable in some literary circles to disdain Danielle Steel. I've been guilty of it myself a time or ten.  I've used her work as examples of commercial drek every time I've needed an example of commercial drek.  In my defense I can only say "yes I am my own idiot."

 

What brought me to full realization of my idiocy started with the news this week that Danielle Steel now has a blog.  Cue the brass band of Sardonica: they chimed right in with "Danielle Steel is the last person who needs a blog."  Well, that very well may be true but I was interested enough to click on the link in the news story.

 

And I was utterly charmed.

 

Her blog is all about her kids, her life, why she loves fashion and the foundations she set up to honor the memory of her son who died by his own hand in the throes of mental illness.

 

She doesn't waste a single minute defending herself against people jeering at her or her books.

 

I kind of like that.  It's very in-your-face only in a zen-like way. 

 

As I surfed around the site I came on the list of her published books.  And it's a lot. Not a lot like most of us think of a lot (20+) but more like a lot like Ripley's Believe It of Not thinks of a lot (100+)

 

And then I realized I really really love Danielle Steel.  Maybe not her writing, but certainly the entire library of her work.  It dawned on me that her enormous success is probably funding a couple smaller, less profitable writers.  She's keeping the heat and lights on over at Delacorte; probably a lot more than that as well.  My guys probably keep the office supply cabinet stocked up on binder clips.  In other words Danielle Steel and her 100+ books are carrying much more than her share of the fixed costs of the publisher, and that helps my guys who aren't selling at her  stratospheric level and, let's be honest here,  probably never will.

 

It's very very hard not to love that when you're an agent, even if the author isn't your own.

 

So, forgive me Danielle Steel.  I'll never badmouth you again. And I've learned my lesson, I promise.  What you write may not float my boat, but the result of your rainmaking raises the water level for us all.

 

 

 

Back in the Real World

Janet Reid

It's 12:51am on Tuesday morning and I've been back from the Surrey Writing Conference for about 12 hours. I've been conscious for about six of them.

Going to a conference is the closest I will ever get to being a rock star or a sex goddess.  When I'm at a conference, because I'm an agent, almost everyone wants to talk to me, sit with me at lunch or dinner, and they certainly all laugh at my jokes.  It's damn fun let me tell you. 

(It's also got nothing to do with me and everything to do with my job, and I forget that at my peril.)

At Surrey this weekend, a very dear woman named Sue Goddard stayed up till 3am to pick me up at the airport and whisk me off to the hotel.

The next morning two other volunteers were assigned to help me teach my class on query letters and they busied themselves doing everything they could to make my life easier including rearranging all the furniture in the classroom twice. Another long time volunteer Dan made it his business to make sure the overhead projector worked.

Everywhere I turned someone was glad to bring me coffee, buy me a drink, make sure I had everything I wanted, needed, or thought I might need.  

It's damn addictive let me tell you.

I have to remind myself that it's not the real world either.  Not even close.

There's a real transition period after conferences, particularly ones like Surrey when I've been away for five days.

Back here in the real world no one is at my beck and call, and no one is hanging on every word. No one is trying to make my life easier; they all want to know what I'm doing to sell more instead.  (Given that's my actual job, it's hard to argue!)

Being a rock star for a day is the upside to conferences, as is the chance to hang out with friends and colleagues, and sometimes (like at Surrey) with clients.  It's a lot of fun.   The down side is that conference prep, travel, attendance, and the uptick in queries afterward takes a lot of time.  I've been to six or seven conferences this year not counting BEA and Bouchercon and I'm as behind on my work as I've ever been, and I can't stand it. 

I also think I'm getting a little too fond of being treated like a rock star. It's really really easy to forget that "being" an agent isn't quite the same thing as doing the actual work.  I think it's time to hang out in the real world for a while and earn back my rock star status.

I've decided to take a year off from attending conferences.  I'm going to use the time to get caught up (I hope!) but also because  this really is the part I love: the actual work. 

Still, it's going to be damn hard giving up that rock star stuff let me tell you! Feel free to lavish me with adulation any time!