It was there waiting for me when I got back.  A vast, sprawling, filthy tip of mess, piled in heaps around the pristine spare bedroom of my English home. Exploding trash bags of notes from my schooldays; dust-laden boxes of yellowed books; mouldering suitcases stuffed with ancient cards and letters. The abandoned detritus of the family loft, of my life, dumped with me for sorting and disposal.

I stood there, exhausted and weirdly emotional after the all-night flight from Washington DC.  It’s easy to get overwhelmed in those first surreal moments of readjustment, and dirt and mess always get me down.

A short sleep, a search for elbow-length rubber gloves and grubby apron, and I was back. The task: to sort the heap into three piles - one for the trash, one for the charity shop, one for keeping.  One task, but a thousand surprises, a thousand decisions, and some heart-stabbing reunions.  As I sifted and sorted I found myself making a journey back in time, to the roots of who I am and how I came to be here. These are some of the things that made it into the ‘keeping’ box.

My granny’s vintage black evening gloves that button up to the elbow.  My granny was born in 1889 and through her I saw some of the big events of history.  The sinking of the Titanic, the death of her fiance at Ypres, the Blitz as she took cover on the back steps and down in the air-raid shelter.  Her life in India with my grandfather who grew tobacco and shot big game in an age when it was fine to slay beautiful wild animals; the near-death of both my grandparents in local uprisings. And then - her solo voyage to America where she worked as a governess at a time when women didn’t really do that sort of thing. She was bold and charismatic, she was fanatically parsimonious (hanging her teabags on a little washing line so they could dry out and be reused) - but she was always immaculately dressed and never, ever scrimped on her expensive face cream, even when she was 95 and far beyond the help of L’Oreal.

The books I wrote. Yes, I was an author at the age of six!  I frequently announced that I was off to write another work.  And here they are - THE GRRL, THE MOUS AND THE HORSE. And the highly illustrated SALLY’S RIDING SCHOOL. Piles of notebooks filled with my huge writing and crayoned drawings.

A teddy bear named Benjamin Bernard Saunders. Benjamin belonged to my big sister.  His cousin, George James Robinson, was mine, and a polar bear by ethnicity.  George resides in Virginia where he still sports his natty, knitted school uniform.  Under Big Sister’s instructions we lined up the bears (and their friends) in ‘classrooms’ made from wooden bricks and gave them endless tests.  Poor George James usually had ‘could do better’ against his feeble efforts (Big Sister didn’t mess around). Oh, and here are their tiny school bags and minute work-books which we made.  And in which I see Big Sister wrote the names of all the boys she liked.  (I’ve decided she must have been an early developer.)

The vocational guidance test I was made to take when I was fourteen, when I had already understood, through frequent repetition, that I’d very likely never amount to anything.  In pages of detail I glean that I was deemed to be extrovert, should work in a team, and preferably in the field of literature.  Hah!

Aged copies of BLACK BEAUTY (horses! suffering! triumph!), HEIDI (oh those golden curls! Drinking milk out of a bowl!), TO KILL A MOCKINGBIRD and CATCHER IN THE RYE.  All awesome! MOCKINGBIRD turning me from a child reader into an adolescent one.

My degree certificate from ‘Universitas Cambrensis’. The University of Wales.  Perched a few feet from the wild Irish Sea, my hall of residence experienced the highest wind speeds ever recorded in Britain.  We would wake to find seaweed stuck to our fourth-floor window, and I would labour up the seaside promenade hefting book bags packed with Beowulf (in the original Anglo Saxon), Chaucer, Melville, Faulkner, Dickens and (my favourite) E.M. Forster.

A Teach-Yourself Welsh book. Unsurprisingly.  My husband calls it ‘the language without vowels’ (or is it more that the vowels are in quite the wrong place?).  Impenetrable and crazily Celtic, it reminds me not only of my friends for whom Welsh is their first language, but also of some of my favourite places in the world: the little towns of Dolgellau and Beddgelert; the wild craggy mountains of Cader Idris and Snowdon. They say that if you spend the night alone on Cader you’ll wake insane in the morning, and I’m not surprised.

A smelly, yellowed copy of James Joyce’s ULYSSES.  I held the English Department’s record for having read this punctuation-less book FOUR times.  If you can beat that madness, I promise to buy you a pint of Guinness, should we ever meet.

And then the motherlode.  Or perhaps I should say fatherlode.  A cassette tape recorded by my father in 1981, outlining his feelings for me.  I haven’t heard his voice for nearly twelve years (he died in 1997) and still dare not play the tape.  A difficult man, a difficult relationship, but as a child I would sit on the floor surrounded by his books which I pulled from the old mahogany bookcase.  A man who created a business from nothing and ended up advising, and taking tea, with the Royal Family. Who died with more than 4000 books crammed into his stone cottage in the far west of England.  Books in the kitchen cupboards (no food), the airing cupboard, under the bath, in the bedroom closets.  Who in the final years of his life wrote Cold-War thrillers, was taken on by a top London literary agent - and yet never got a book deal. Who delighted in the delicious irony that his daughter was a publisher, though he could never understand why on earth I wasted my time on children’s books (’So when are you going to get a job doing PROPER books?’). And I sit and wonder - what would he say if he knew I was to become a literary agent, that I would move to America, that I would start a business.  And I find myself laughing because I know he would have been thrilled and amazed, no doubt boring his friends half to death about it.

So I close the box and prepare to push it under the bed, there to gather dust along with someone’s old sleeping bag, a sun lounger, my guitar amp (which is a story for another day).  But I think about my journey and how I got here - the stories of my family and their journeys that they bequeathed to me. The hard work, the struggles, the surprises, the dreams - the odd heroic failure - that have got me this far and to this place.  And I wonder - what would be in the box of your life?  What has been your journey and the story you have to tell?

I start thinking about packing to go home to the States on Tuesday.  Two homes, two countries, but a box under the bed that marks the milestones. 

Wishing you peace on your journey. 

I don’t know why, but deals always seem to come to fruition just as I’m about to go off travelling.  Take today, for example.  I’m leaving for vacation tomorrow evening (back August 26) and have done virtually nothing to get ready.  The suitcase is still in the basement, the socks are still in the dryer, and I’m trying to get my head round the idea of going somewhere cold and rainy.  You’d think I’d know all about that kind of climate, but it’s amazing how soon you forget that there are parts of the world where people don’t live in shorts all summer.

So anyway, there I am, thinking towards the Big Pack. And slowly but surely, all the weeks and months of planning and strategy come together to mark today as the day when I shall sell my fourth debut author - the very wonderful Valerie Patterson.

I first encountered Valerie several months ago when I moved to Virginia. Ellen Braaf, head of the Mid-Atlantic SCBWI (my local branch), mentioned that she knew a very talented author whom I should probably seek out.  I did so (of course) and Valerie became one of my very first Greenhouse authors.  As soon as I read her elegant, evocative writing I knew I had found someone with a very special talent, and an extraordinary ear for the nuances of character, motivation, and language. Here was someone who I felt so richly deserved to be published, and I was really excited to have the opportunity to help her get there if I could.

Gradually, over several months, Val’s novel developed and changed in small but significant ways.  The title changed - to THE OTHER SIDE OF BLUE - which we felt reflected the evocative style of the story. As I mentioned the title to publishers at Bologna and New York I could see editors respond to it, which was a great sign.  Finally, about three weeks ago I sent the manuscript out - and today have conducted a ‘best offers’ mini-auction between two great houses that have a fine track record for developing the best literary talent.  Both editors who went for it absolutely loved BLUE and it was wonderful to hear their passsion for Valerie’s writing.  But we had to find a winner - and that winner was confirmed today as Jennifer Wingertzahn of Clarion, who will publish THE OTHER SIDE OF BLUE either in Fall 09 or Spring 2010.  Even better, this was a two-book deal, which means that Valerie is really setting off on a professional writing adventure that we hope and believe will carry her forward into increasing success in the future.

THE OTHER SIDE OF BLUE is a beautifully wrought debut.  Han Nolan, winner of the National Book Award, describes Valerie as ‘a born writer.  Her language feels so fresh, clean and spare - just perfect.’ Now that is some endorsement!

The story is about 15-year-old Cyan - named after the colour blue by her artist mother.  And blue, in all its shades, is how it feels for Cyan to be back on the island of Curacao one year after the terrible loss of her father at sea. Expected to play host to a potential new stepsister - as perfectly pink as Cyan knows she can never be - the past and future are coloured by mystery.  Did her mother drive Cyan’s father away? Why were an ice bucket and two glasses found on his overturned sailing boat? And why does local boy Mayur say that he alone can tell Cyan the truth? With a gulf as wide as the Caribbean between her mother and herself, Cyan must explore the depths of the colour blue - the blue of sadness, the sea, the horizon, and ultimately herself - in this exquisitely told story of family love, betrayal, and hope. 

This is a very special story and I am so happy tonight that Valerie is going to be published.  It’s a long journey for most writers and each deserves their time in the sun at a moment like this.  So well done, Valerie, and I can’t wait to see how the future unfolds.

Raise a virtual glass, everyone, to THE OTHER SIDE OF BLUE!

So now I’m off down to the basement to find the suitcase and throw in some clothes.  And a raincoat.  And some large boots.  Take care - I’ll see you when I’m back from vacation.  And don’t forget - enjoy your writing!

What does the word ‘package’ mean to you?  A mysterious box, gift-wrapped with pretty paper and tied with an elegant ribbon?  Today I’m thinking excitedly about packages - and hoping some might appear later.  Sssh, it’s my birthday, and somehow I never get too old to be pleased about that! 

But publishers have something else in mind when they use the word ‘package’ - as they do quite a lot. Because to a publisher the package is everything you see, touch and feel as you hold a finished book.  It’s the culmination of the entire vision that the editor - and all the rest of the team - had for the work.  The package can comprise many things, including (and always most importantly) the jacket. Illustrations, format, dimensions, paper, and typeface (including spacing on the page) will also be considered.  Sometimes much more esoteric and individual specifications come into the mix:  whether to include extras like a ribbon bookmark, coloured edges to the paper, head and tail bands (the funny little coloured bits you see on quality hardbacks where the paper abuts the papercase on top and bottom).  All these bits and pieces go into the costing mix and produce a set of figures that will help to determine the profitability of the book, where it should be printed, how fast reprints can be produced - and often what its retail price should be. The decisions can be very difficult to make.  Add too many bits and pieces and you can radically diminish profitability; add too few and you can lose that ‘standout’ potential on the shelf that could help to achieve higher sales. It’s a balance, and somewhere there will be a senior person muttering, ‘If you DO add ...... [fill in the blank] are we REALLY going to sell 5000 more???’ These are the fraught conversations that happen very frequently in publishing offices around the globe as editors, production executives, sales people and art departments come at issues with different agendas and equally strong feelings!

Sometimes, and in a perfect world, the entire vision for the book will be thought through on acquisition.  That’s a very clever thing to do because then the publisher can offer a very accurate sum for rights in the book - a sum based on projected sales and incorporating all costs and overheads.  But more often the vision appears more gradually, and through many meetings and discussions between departments. Often there are false starts as one aspect doesn’t look quite right and has to be rethought - even at a very late stage.  Chief priority (and often bugbear) is the jacket, which more than anything else creates the image for the book.  There are so many possibilities: jackets with flaps, paperback covers, double covers, different ‘finishes’ (glossy and shiny; matt and smooth; sparkly foil, embossing, fuzzy textures, holographic - even ‘scratch and sniff’!), all of which are used to create different effects, but which come at a high price.

The first step on the jacket journey will be when the editor comes up with a ‘brief’ for the Art Department - usually months before publication.  The brief will give an outline of the book’s content, some thoughts on style, age group, genre.  From this a designer will come up with a range of possibilities, often very different, which will then be spread out on a table and scrutinized, pondered, and discussed (argued over?) at length. One ‘look’ may then be chosen, or the designer may even go away to produce more samples.  But at some point a course will be set and suddenly the book’s ‘personality’ will begin to take shape. More discussions will take place over typography and finishes - and sometimes, even at the last possible moment, the whole thing will be ditched and begun again.  It’s such an important thing that one seriously negative comment from a key buyer can mean a hasty rethink.  The old saying, ‘Never judge a book by its cover’ has got it all wrong.  Books are absolutely judged by their covers!

Lots of knowledge goes into the creation of the ‘package’.  What else is out there in the market.  What your competitors are doing.  Whether you want the book to aim straight at boys or girls - or both genders. Whether it’s an upscale literary work that is all about the text - or whether there’s a particularly marketable ‘hook’ that suggests a strong look. Whatever the range of factors, the decisions will always aim at making the book stand out from the pack, convey a strong sense of content - and yet still be capable of competitive pricing (because if the book is priced too high you’re doomed anyway!).

So that’s a little introduction to packages, though there is much more to be said about the process. Meanwhile, I think I hear the postman at the door.  Maybe there’ll be a package - and maybe it will be for me!  Have a happy day, everyone. 

In the course of my reading this past week, I’ve encountered a number of . . . attractive people.  To be more specific:  A whole lotta hot guys, who have a number of anatomical things in common. I’ll list a few: rippling six packs; rock-hard abs; sun-flecked blond hair; emerald-chip eyes; square jawlines; strong chins; cute grins.  These guys are invariably ‘jocks’, and invariably quarterbacks.  However, given they are clearly God’s chosen ones (being a jock and a quarterback seems to guarantee that apparently; all so hard for a British girl to grasp . . . ), these hunks of walking perfection are invariably Not Very Nice.  Or if they are, well, frankly, they’re a bit dim.  Or maybe they’re even trying to break out of their own stereotype because they’re just plain misunderstood.  And what is the point of all those muscles, of being ‘drop-dead gorgeous’, if you’re Mr Misunderstood?  Yes, it’s very hard being beautiful!

But their female counterparts also stride sassily into my life at times.  Girls with lean, tanned limbs; endless legs; sun-flecked blonde hair that is subject to much tossing; big blue eyes (huh!  Guys get the emerald chips, girls get the ‘bottomless pools’ of blue.  Call that fair?), and cute smiles (it seems that girls can smile - grinning clearly unfeminine). These visions will usually be loaded with cash.  A lot of them will be athletes who think nothing of running marathons; some of they may even be cheerleaders.  But once again, these beauties are invariably Not Very Nice - because with great beauty comes a lack of moral fibre, it seems.  Except in those who are simply too sweet, too genuine, too distracted to recognize their own beauty - which may then have to be pointed out to them by their much frumpier, fatter, less desirable/socially successful friend.

Invariably, these characters share a certain vocabulary.  There will be a touch of ‘Earth to Cassie/Sophie/Amy’, a hint of ‘OMG!’, a dollop of ‘Like, hey, oh yeah, kinda’.

And meanwhile Sarah sits at her desk, glasses perched on nose, paper stacked in front of her, sliding steadily downwards as she loses her tenuous grip on sanity and finally slumps to the floor.  It’s not always easy reading work for teens in an age where CLIQUE, A-LIST, GOSSIP GIRL, and many more sit pinkly on the shelves of Barnes & Noble. Because unless you are a real whiz at bringing fresh life to characters we feel we’ve met before, it can be very tough to make an impact.

There’s nothing at all wrong with writing for a cool teenage audience, but somehow, if possible, you’ve got to overturn the stereotypes and do something new and funky of your own with the genre.  However you hear kids speak out there on the streets, in the schools, in Starbucks, you’ve got to capture that in a way that’s going to be arresting and different and set you apart from everything else out there. And however kids actually speak, it all stands out far more on the page than it does in real life.  That is, there’s a BIG difference between the impact of the written word and the impact of conversation (hence one swear word has vast impact in a text, whereas you may not even notice it in a verbal exchange).  Try to find a new concept for your story, a fresh voice, a more distinct and fully realized set of characters (as three dimensional as possible), and don’t try to emulate successful series that are currently selling out in the shops because that is surely going to be derivative writing.

Is it possible to do something new with the ‘high school novel’?  Well yes, it is.  I read one manuscript this week that hit a really fresh note for me.  I can’t tell you too much about it, and it was far from perfect, but there was something structurally, linguistically, and stylistically different that made me stop in my tracks.  I don’t know yet if it will be something I’ll represent, but I do know it gave me hope that there really ARE new ways to evoke that contemporary teenage world and make me see it in a different light. 

So give it a shot and see what happens.  And meanwhile, hey, OMG!, I’ve like gotta go, guys, yeah?.  I’m off to the pool with a hottie jock!*

*Aka, the Greenhouse Husband.

Yes, that’s what the Greenhouse Husband regularly announces:  I’M BUSIER THAN A ONE-ARMED PAPER-HANGER!

I know what he means.  I have so far exceeded the poor, limb-less paper-hanging guy this week that I’ve not even had time to tell you my exciting news - that last Friday I sold UK and Commonwealth rights in Lindsey Leavitt’s PRINCESS FOR HIRE.  In fact, not just rights for one book but, as in her US Hyperion deal, for three.  I seem to remember telling Lindsey in highly confident tones when I first met her that I would achieve this, so it’s been really, really satisfying to deliver on my promise.

It was pleasing once again to have competition for the rights, with two houses both bidding from London. In the end we went with Egmont UK and my old colleague (old as in former, rather than in years!) and friend, Rachel Boden. Rachel had loved our Princess Desi from the start and had nailed her colours to the mast some time ago.  Most regular American agents would sell US rights initially and then wait for proofs of that edition before pitching it (via sub-agents) to the UK. I took the view that PRINCESS really had the legs to succeed in Britain and that I wanted a UK house to feel a stronger sense of ownership and involvement in the text.  Plus I felt it could only be good for Lindsey to have the additional profile of a UK deal concluded early on. I therefore submitted it to British houses at the same time as the Americans, knowing there would need to be some level of collaboration between edits done by both houses.  In fact, the strategy has worked perfectly and Rachel’s conversation with Emily, our Hyperion editor, soon revealed that they had very similar editorial sensibilities, which would enable Egmont basically to use Hyperion’s edit. A great result, which means both houses will publish the first book in Winter 2010, which makes for great transatlantic synergy. Egmont are the British publishers of Lemony Snicket, among many other great authors, so they have an excellent, and growing, reputation as series publishers as well as of successful standalone fiction. It’s also been great to get to know Elizabeth Law and Doug Pocock, pioneers of Egmont US, which launched here a few months back.

Hands up - how many of you are baffled by the rights issues I’ve just been talking about?  Maybe you are wondering what I mean by UK and Commonwealth - or even how the globe is carved up in terms of potential deals.  Well, I sell US houses exclusive English-language rights to the USA and Canada (which will also include the Philippines and other US dependencies). British houses get exclusive English-language rights to the UK and British Commonwealth - which includes the major territories of Australia and New Zealand (Aus is a very important market in terms of potential sales). Many other countries are included in this grant of rights:  parts of Africa (eg, Nigeria, South Africa, Kenya); Middle East (eg, Egypt, Kuwait, Sudan); Asia (India, Malaysia, Singapore); Australasia (as well as Aus/NZ this includes Fiji, Tonga, Western Samoa); South America (eg, Belize, British Antarctic, Falklands); West Indies (eg, Bahamas, Jamaica, Trinidad-Tobago).  Europe is always a bit tricksy - both US and UK houses want to lay claim to it, so the best way of dealing with it is to make it what we call Open Market, which means both houses can sell into it.  However, Europe can also be a deal-breaker for UK houses who insist on having it exclusively, so it can help enormously in clinching the deal to be able to retain it for them as I was able to do in this case.

Now bear in mind that all I’ve mentioned so far is EXCLUSIVE ENGLISH LANGUAGE RIGHTS.  So we still have a huge piece of rights cake left - basically, the rights to publish in all other languages.  And these rights I retain - to be exploited and sold by my sister company Rights People (Alexandra, Caroline, and Alex; visit them on www.rightspeople.com).  US and UK publishers would love me to sell these rights to them (under the banner of granting World rights), but I don’t!  Sorry, pubishers, but those rights are almost always going to be more valuable to my author if retained and sold for them separately by Greenhouse/Rights People.  We don’t really start selling these rights until we have an absolutely final, fully revised manuscript in our hands, so that’s why you won’t see that many countries sold yet on the author-listing part of the website.  Return in a year’s time and take another look, and I suspect you’ll see a great deal more.  Which is very exciting for authors because they may have moved on to writing subsequent books, but sales around the world of their first can be ongoing in a way that’s great for profile and income.

Whoa, I’m starting to sound like a school teacher lecturing a class.  Sorry about that, but hope you’ve found this little rights seminar interesting.  The message I’d want to leave you with is this:  It is a big, big world out there.  Your writing, if you get published, is not just about either the USA or Britain. It doesn’t matter in the least to me where you live - I look for the potential of your work in a much bigger way than that. I want to see your book out there in Tuvalu, Turkey, and Tanzania; being read on an alpine mountaintop in German, in a bijou bistro in French, or even in Mandarin over in Beijing. 

Now isn’t that exciting? Looks like I’ll be busier than a one-armed paper-hanger for a long time to come! 

I’ve a riddle for you.  Where in the world have I just been? 
Clues:  My feet blew up with scabrous mosquito bites. My hair turned into steel wool, fuzzed into an unappealing mass by alternating drizzle and humidity. And I saw more important people wearing nothing but towels than is in any way recommended.

Can you guess where I’ve been?  YES - I was at the alumni conference of Vermont College’s MFA in children’s writing.  And despite an increasingly terrifying view of myself in my dorm room’s mirror (small children look away now), and all the furtive lurking to achieve privacy in the shared bathrooms, I had a great time. Who would not, in the company of many and diverse children’s authors, a goodly number of whom have already been plucked from the fertile flowerbeds of Vermont and hauled off to the likes of HarperCollins, Roaring Brook, Front Street, Candlewick, and many more.  Here are flocks of authors who look quite normal but talk about unreliable narrators, authorial perspective, Aristotelian plot structure (yes, really), in the same way that we normal mortals discuss popping down to Giant for our groceries.  Whoa, this is some course, people!

But that wasn’t the most exciting thing.  The most exciting thing was . . . roll on the drums . . . I got to hang out in the vicinity of M.T. Anderson (FEED, OCTAVIAN NOTHING) and Tim Wynne Jones (BOY IN THE BURNING HOUSE, THIEF IN THE HOUSE OF MEMORY), who are both involved in the program.  Now, it isn’t easy appearing completely calm in this situation, but I felt I did quite creditably and avoided looking like the groupie I secretly am. They were also the funniest, most charming double act you can imagine, wearing their considerable intellects as lightly on their shoulders as butterflies. 

So what, I hear you ask, was Sarah doing in this elevated company?  Well, I was asked by the alumni to take part in a couple of panels - and had also offered to co-sponsor the first-ever Vermont cocktail party (which, as can imagine, went down rather well as a little alcohol usually does).  The first panel was on Intellectual Property and Rights, along with Michael Stearns of Firebrand (my old mate from publishing days - we used to do a lot of business together, shared a lot of books, across the Pond).  Fortunately, the discussion moved away from ghastly things like trademark law and on to more interesting topics like the international scene and the importance of various contractual clauses (believe it or not, I get quite excited by the minutiae of contracts, which is just as well since an agent spends half their life pouring over these pedantic documents).  Panel 2 was with another old friend, Deborah Brodie, who after a long career in publishing is now a freelance editor, teacher and book doctor (www.deborahbrodie.com). If you just can’t sort your novel out and are about to jump over a cliff, Deborah is the lady to turn to.  She’s a genius editor and quite incredibly kind, so I was being all sassy commercial agent and Deborah was the calming, soothing, mellifluous one.  Kind of like good cop, bad cop (in reverse, of course).  We basically talked about writing, how to be commercial, tricks of the trade, submitting, and much more.  All very enjoyable, and I hope we were able to add something helpful to the considerable knowledge and experience of our audience.

There were many other highspots in this Vermont sojourn.  Driving through the forests and seeing the beautiful scenery for the first time (so big, so big, compared with Britain!). Exploring the town (kind of alpine, kind of Celtic, kind of neither). Chilling with a coffee at Capitol Grounds - and chatting with a swarm of Vermonters who pitched up also in search of a break from campus.  Chatting with esteemed editor/publisher Melanie Kroupa of Farrar Straus and Giroux under a tree.  Eating breakfast in the cafeteria with young students who have made real sacrifices, both financial and in career terms, to study for their MFA. The dedication, the eagerness to learn, the talent in that place were remarkable. I can’t think of anything quite like it in the UK, other than the children’s writing course at Bath Spa University in the west of England (which produced the wonderful Ally Kennen of BEAST fame and others).

So I pitched up home again Monday afternoon - pretty tired, to be honest, but feeling it had all been very worthwhile.  Even if it meant I’d be working for 12 straight days on the trot.  It’s very hard to stop.  Ever.  In the time I’d been away, submissions had poured in - some sent special delivery, all with hopes attached like flags. And then, of course, there’s the authors I’m already representing, whose business is my top concern and priority.  It’s fantastic, it’s fun, but just occasionally it would be nice to sit on a sun lounger and snooze. 

Know what I mean, jelly bean?

This is not a business for those seeking instant gratification.  Much of it is about waiting. And waiting. And waiting ... 

Waiting for the voice that makes me read one paragraph and sit up, punch the air, and hiss YESSSSSS! (Because it’s the greatest temptation as an agent to sign too many authors, or the wrong authors, and then not be able to give them time and attention - or sell their work.)

Waiting for the words to form in my mind that will best enable me to explain to an author how their story might be refined and shaped. (Because it’s the easiest thing in the world to rip out an editorial letter that isn’t nuanced quite right.)

Waiting for revisions # 1, 2, or even 3. (Because my first mantra is that I owe it to my authors to submit only the very best work of which they are capable. And because my second mantra is that if I’m going to get them a deal it must be the very best deal possible.)

Waiting for publishers to respond to my careful submission, which means everything in the world to me (and my author), but is one of so many for the editor.  (Because you don’t get anywhere by hassling them - until just the right moment.)

Waiting for the absolutely final decision. (Because the Marketing Director hasn’t yet read it, the acquisitions meeting was cancelled, the MD was on vacation, the dog ate it, the building burned down).

Waiting for the Contracts Director’s responses to my responses to their responses on Clauses 2, 3c and 15b.  (Because every word in this document could be vital if something goes horribly wrong at any stage in the future.)

Waiting for yet more revisions. (Because don’t think for one moment that the poor author is off the hook once the manuscript is acquired.  Hah, far from it! The revising fun has only just begun. Let’s dig it up and make it over!)

Waiting for the book to come out.  (Because normally it takes a year - or that’s what the Production Director’s ‘critical path’ will tell you. And pub dates move, production nightmares ensue, illustrations get lost, files get corrupted, factories shut for Christmas.)

Yes, this game is all about waiting. 
And precision. And absolute focus.  And doing things just right.

Because there is also a moment to pounce, where the silence, the holding the line, the breezy patience, the grey days turn into rapid, intense action. The phone rings, the email arrives, the pressure is applied, the answer comes - and suddenly your destiny as a writer has turned on a dime, for good or ill, and the world is transformed.

This is not a job where achievement necessarily matches the hours spent working. 

So what does this waiting mean for you aspiring authors?  It means waiting (and working) to learn your craft, to discover your voice, to turn that sentence - and every sentence - into one so nuanced and skillful it breaks my heart. It means understanding that this is a slow-moving business that lumbers like an old tortoise until The Moment of sudden action. This is the way of books.  This is not America’s Got Talent; this is the ancient craft of story-telling, handed down through generations.  Despite our modern publicity flim-flam, writing is still about spinning magic painstakingly and cleverly from words, and there are rarely quick fixes.  Sadly, The Hoff will not come leaping at you from the Greenhouse telling you you’re going to Vegas. There will only be me, doing my best for you - whether that’s telling you that I can’t make it work with you, or whether you’re one of the very few whose journey and risk I can share.

No, this is not a business for those seeking instant gratification.

It’s good to be back in Virginia, though my head is spinning in orbit somewhere over the Atlantic.  I’m sure it will land safely back on my shoulders tomorrow once the old body clock has reconnected. It’s also good to be safely manacled and shackled to the Greenhouse desk again.  Or rather the virtual desk, since (very predictably) both phone and broadband crashed in my absence, necessitating a hasty cobbling together and camping out at a temporary desk elsewhere before The Man comes to fix things.

There’s a ton to do: a mound of paper manuscripts, a landslide of emailed ones, several deals to be done (hurrah!), and plans to be finalized for my trip to Vermont next Friday for the alumni conference of the MFA program.  I’m really looking forward to it - taking part in several panels, hosting a Greenhouse cocktail party to welcome attendees, and no doubt meeting many aspiring writers.

It’s been a good, if pretty exhausting, trip to the UK. Lots of work done, family and friend reunions enjoyed, and publishing contacts and colleagues reinvigorated. Not exactly a vacation, but at least a change of pace and scene. Greenhouse Son #1 says he feels he is a ‘citizen of the world’ and I agree.  I belong in both the USA and Britain and feel at home in several other places too. Hmm, I find that interesting - the realization puts a different spin on every issue, as well as having such a bearing on how I see the literary scene and what I hope to achieve for my authors.

It’s good to be back, fellow Citizens of the World!

Hello to you all from a warm and sunny London where I’ve been tearing around like a bit of a maniac, trying to do too many things in too short a time.  What do you mean, what’s new? OK, OK, I agree this is a somewhat habitual state of affairs, but I subscribe to my granny’s motto: ‘Don’t waste time looking at a hill - climb it!’ And actually, that’s one of the things I’ve been doing a lot of - ie, climbing - since I’m just back from two days up in unbelievably hilly Durham (very far north, quite near Newcastle) where Greenhouse Son #1’s graduation took place.  A quick geography/history lesson - Durham is one of the most beautiful cities in England and a World Heritage Site, due to its fabulous and vast cathedral which is said to the be finest example of Norman architecture in Europe.  Undisputed, in my opinion, not least due to its extraordinary position, looming over the city from the top of its lofty hill. Picture the scene:  hundreds of graduates, clad in black robes trimmed with white fur and lilac or pink silk, stream in procession across the cathedral close (the area around the cathedral and its neighbouring castle), accompanied by senior faculty staff and chancellor Bill Bryson (yes, really! GHS #1 shook his hand!)) in their brilliantly coloured scarlet, blue, gold robes and tasselled hats, against a vast, monolithic backdrop of the most ancient, dark stone. Up here it is exposed, windy and grey, and centuries and centuries of history imbue this scene with an extra shot of significance and emotion.

But the committed literary agent never quite escapes her calling, and the trip has also held more bookish excitements: meeting up with my UK-based authors Harriet Goodwin and Sarwat Chadda and their prospective publishers. It was especially lovely to be able to join Sarwat for the annual Puffin party, held at the Tate Modern gallery - a really enjoyable gathering of Puffin’s authors, illustrators and staff in this incomparable venue looking out of vast windows on to the dazzling lights of the Thames and over to the dome of St Paul’s Cathedral.  It was really good to be able to meet up with so many agent and editor friends, as well as many other movers and shakers in the British publishing industry.

Then it was up early again and into the Greenhouse’s London office base to meet up with colleagues and more prospective authors - and to do a telephone interview with Caroline Horn of The Bookseller magazine (the most influential UK trade journal; you might call it the UK equivalent of Publishers Weekly).  It’s really exciting to see the interest there is here in the Greenhouse - and the awareness of what has been acheived in the business in such a short time.

It’s amazing how easily one can keep in touch transatlantically these days - seeing emails as soon as they arrive, via the Blackberry; accessing voicemail.  Although I am trying to take at least a few days’ vacation, I’m never out of touch should anything important come up.  I’ve read a few submissions on my Kindle while away, but if you have just sent something in, please do give me a little longer to respond.  I’m sure you all have families and home lives too - and sometimes, just occasionally, I have to give those people and parts of my life a little time. 

Hope you’re enjoying summer, wherever you are, and managing to get a little time in (or possibly out of, depending on where you live) the sun.  Up in Durham it is still light at 9.30pm and the sun is coming up around 4am.  Now ain’t that somethin’!

Cheers, folks. I’ll toast your good health with a nice English cuppa!

Back at 1.30am this morning from Hollins University down in Roanoke, where I gave a talk last night to the grad students (and some faculty members) on the MFA children’s writing course.  My topic:  From Both Sides of the Pond:  The Greenhouse - a Transatlantic Literary Agency.  45 minutes (plus questions later) of me holding forth about my publishing and agenting life, the birth and development of Greenhouse, and my thoughts on writing, submitting, the market - and a lot more that my befuddled brain has already forgotten.  Somehow the late-night 3.5 hours of driving home (thanks to the Greenhouse Husband for his endless, patient taxi service) and then not much sleep has put it right out of my head. Just let me sle-e-e-e-e-e-p.

What a beautiful and impressive college Hollins is - absolutely immaculate, surrounded by quiet hills, and surely a wonderful place to write and ponder. It was lovely to meet students and staff and have a chance to chat later - big thanks to Amanda Cockrell, the course adminstrator, who took a chance on inviting me over some months back, when the Greenhouse was in its absolute infancy. Also wonderful to meet Han Nolan (I mention her name with awe), winner of the National Book Award for DANCING ON THE EDGE, and also a course tutor.  If any of you Hollins students have dropped in to my blog, ‘Hi, guys’ and wishing you great success in your studies and writing careers. Just remember, avoid the vampires - and Show Don’t Tell!

So now it’s back to finish off my final bits and pieces of packing this morning and then to the airport this afternoon for my night flight back to London.  I can practically do it in my sleep now (oh, I SHALL do it in my sleep!), though the arrival in the usually cold, grey light of a Heathrow morning is always a bit disorienting.  An hour to unpack and rest and then it’s straight back into the family and all the events we have planned this visit - not least my son’s university graduation (I’m still thrilled - yes, he got a First!).  But some work too - meeting all my British authors, talking about manuscripts, lunching with Cornerstones literary consultancy, attending the Puffin party at the Tate Modern gallery - and of course seeing my colleagues again.  It’s all good and really, I’m very fortunate to be able to live this fulfilling and always interesting transatlantic literary life.

Time to get going, time to close the suitcase.  See you back in London!  Have a good weekend, everyone.

I’m sorry it’s been a little silent lately and that my customary weekend post didn’t materialize.  It’s been a crazy couple of weeks here in the hotseat - plus, I was keeping my powder dry, all ready to burst out and surprise you with an exciting edition today! Tally ho!

Last week was a textbook case of everything my agenting life can comprise.  Negotiating the endless fine print of contracts (where the devil lies in the detail, all ready to ensnare you later if you don’t get it sorted), dealing with tax issues, heavy-duty editing (trying to explain to an author, over many pages of notes, how a manuscript might be transformed from something GOOD and PROMISING into something GREAT AND YES I WANT TO BUY IT), reading submissions that don’t quite cut the mustard (yawn, show and don’t tell), talking to the Hollywood film agent representing one of my manuscripts over in LA, preparing my speech (urgh, 45 minutes of me expounding!) for Hollins University this Friday, preparing for copious events over in London where I’m flying very soon . . . Oh, and did I mention the auction?  Oh, I didn’t, silly me!

Yes, the biggest event of last week - if days and days of mounting tension can be called an ‘event’ - was the very thrilling auction that happened for my lovely Lindsey Leavitt’s PRINCESS FOR HIRE.  Now I ‘met’ Lindsey (who is from Alabama) several months ago when she popped up in my inbox.  I remember the day very well.  I was feeling totally overwhelmed by the number of submissions flying at me through the ether and wondered how I would ever keep my mental faculties - or actually discern whether something was any good (if you don’t understand this, try to read 100 submissions, each with 3 chapters attached - ON SCREEN; your eyes go square and you soon develop a pounding headache over one eye; there is a price to be paid, by guess who, for the convenience of authors being able to email!). I was sitting back in my chair, boots on the desk, and clicking slowly through the emails.  I opened Lindsey’s attachment, read a few pages (about 3 was all it took) and slowly sat up, lowering the aforementioned boots to the floor. Here before me was an authorial voice to be taken seriously - it had character, wit, and panache.  A long phone call later, plus a lot of fingernail chewing (as Lindsey chose between me and another *somewhat* larger agency in New York), and the deal was done.  Lindsey was a Greenhouse seedling!

In common with virtually all authors I represent, Lindsey and I retired into a period of editorial purdah where she revised, expanded and generally developed her story and characters.  About three weeks ago we knew we had it as good as it could be and the moment had come to send our sparkly princess out into the world.  It’s a scary moment because there are so many imponderables, seasoned with a large twist of luck - and that’s true even with a really good manuscript.  It took ages for anything exciting to happen, but we (just about) kept our nerve and finally four publishers offered, with a very thrilling second round of ‘best offers’ involving two houses with a deadline of last Friday at 3pm.  By this time our fingernails were a mere memory, and Lindsey and I were in contact constantly by phone as the situation changed from hour to hour.  But we had a clear winner.  Emily Schultz at Hyperion had loved and championed PRINCESS from the start, and her house backed her right royally. Thank you, Hyperion! You guys don’t hang about when you want something. We salute you!

So Lindsey is all set to join the ranks of the professional writers.  Not just with one book - but with a three-book deal, the first of which publishes in Winter 2010.  A whole new world is opening up before her and I am so thrilled that this great dream of Lindsey’s is becoming a reality even better than I had dared to hope.

PRINCESS FOR HIRE is a wonderful, funny, high-concept story for tween girls.  After a humiliating encounter with her long-term crush, ex-best friend and a groundhog costume, Desi Bascomb knows she needs a little magic in her life.  So when sharply suited Meredith Poofinski pops out of a bubble saying she’s an agent scouting for princess substitutes, Desi leaps at the challenge.  Now Desi is about to learn first hand what it feels like to be royalty as she steps into the slippers of princesses who are desperate to go AWOL.  Soon Desi is dancing in an Amazon tribal festival and dodging a prince with just a little too much ‘Eastern promise’.  But nothing can prepare her for the magic of falling for a real prince - a prince who has no idea that back in Hicktown, Idaho, Desi is just a girl in a groundhog costume.

The deal went up on Publishers Marketplace today, and while Lindsey enjoys the magic of her very own life (who needs bubbles?), my thoughts have already turned to the UK/Commonwealth rights - and the rest of the world.  Because it’s not over when I’ve sold US and Canada; that’s hopefully just the start.  But again, it’s impossible to predict how the story will go down in other territories and we just wait and see and do our best.

And now I must run along - I have a poorly Hound downstairs who needs me.  And I hear him calling. 

So it’s a hot and steamy day over here in Virginia.  Early this morning the condensation was jungly, and I could practically see pythons draped over the tree branches out in the yard.  Well really that’s a total lie - because anything resembling a python within 100 miles of me and I’d have been in the next state by now - but you know what I mean.

The rock in the pond for me this week was a hectic two-day trip to New York visiting publishers.  I go every month or two according to what’s happening, what needs to be done, and who I’m getting excited about meeting, and there is nothing more useful than actually sitting down and talking one to one about imprints, upcoming lists, authors, and trends, with editors who are chiselling away at the coal face on a daily basis. This is how I hone my submission lists, targeting exactly the people who I feel will be most receptive to a manuscript. It also to some extent helps me determine which authors I should represent - because there’s no point in me taking on someone whose work I simply don’t stand a chance of selling.

One of the problems you face as an agent is the number of imprints that proliferate in many major houses - and the situation seems to get more complex all the time. We’ve recently seen lovely Christy Ottaviano’s new imprint spring up at Holt, and first Brenda Bowen’s Bowen Press and now Balzer & Bray launch at Harper. And then of course there’s the myriad imprints at Penguin Putnam, Simon & Schuster and Random . . .  Working out who should see what, and whether a novel has the voice for Dial, the stronger edge for Razorbill or the softer edge for Puffin, is a matter of some nuance.  Fortunately, most editors are generous of spirit and reasonably collaborative, so the golden rule is really to let them know who else you’ve sent to inhouse (if you’ve sent to more than one ilist), and then to trust the manuscript will passed to another imprint if that particular editor doesn’t consider it to be quite right for them.

I met a number of old friends on this trip, but also some editors I know less well.  It was great to see Brenda Bowen and Donna Bray again, but also to meet Katherine Tegen, Anne Hoppe and Kristin Daly at Harper for the first time in person on Wednesday.  Then on to Simon & Schuster to have a great session with the very excellent Bethany Buck and David Gale.  A really enjoyable evening out on Broadway with Elizabeth Law from Egmont (oh, guess who was standing four feet away from us as we left the theatre - Kevin Bacon!), a bit of sleep and then next day over to Penguin (via Lauren McKenna at Pocket) to meet up with a whole tribe of people, including Bonnie Bader of Grosset, Liz Waniewski of Dial, and Jennifer Bonnell of Puffin.

Sadly lunch with Lyron Bennett of Sourcebooks never happened due to a whole raft of telecom confusions, so the day finished with a brilliant time over at Hyperion with Jonathan Yaged and Ari Lewin, who have such a great list (and who will be launching THE DEVIL’S KISS - a Greenhouse title in Fall 2009).

So what are they all looking for? I hear you ask. I’d say there’s particularly strong demand for middle grade at the moment - strong concepts, tight plotting, good action; and boy protagonists.  YA paranormal also still strong, but the concept MUST be fresh (so please no vampires).  Several publishers particularly mentioned comedy - it’s rare to find an author who can really make you laugh.  Probably what I heard most was the search for stories with a great voice, great heart, and a strong concept.  Everyone wants BIG books - the books that will really justify their place on the list in terms of sales. Well, that’s obvious, of course, but really most houses can afford to wait until that ‘must have’ manuscript comes along that has them reaching gladly, and deeply, into their acquisitions budget. It’s tough out there (’out there’ being the slightly militaristic nuance we tend to use about the marketplace - like we’re all fighting our very own insurgency!) - tough for publishers to sell new authors in volume; tough for agents to sell publishers their new authors.  If you are a would-be author you may feel that agents are hard to please - but we are only filters to the even more rigorous publishing world. If you think agents are mean and horrid about your voice or your plotting, you need to realize that the publishing editors who wade knee deep in cream-of-the-crop submissions (which have already found representation), profit margins and cost-of-sale increases, are going to be even more ruthless as they assess your work and, if they do acquire it, knock it into shape.

So now I’m home and back at my desk (delayed flights and a major 24+ hour power failure following the storms notwithstanding; much wandering around with candles). Lots to do, lots to read, lots of good things happening - not least that so many editors commented on how much they loved the sound of the titles and authors I’m working with and representing.  And given the Greenhouse is a baby of only four months old, that’s all pretty cool!

If it’s hotter than hot where you are right now, take care, relax with your favourite bevvy (tall frappuccino, hold the whipped cream for me) and settle down with a good novel.  After all, it’s summer!

So it’s the weekend again. Thank goodness. It’s been a really long, really arduous week and all I feel like doing is stretching out on a reclining chair and slurping a frappuccino, loaded with an extraordinary number of calories. Which, on top of last week’s blog (oh, and various previous references to cake . . . ), may make you even more convinced that I am obsessed with guzzling.  Er, you have a problem with that?

There’s been a lot going on this week and tons I’d love to tell you about.  For a start there’s .....................  And then of course there’s ............................. Hah! And I’m desperate to tell you about ..........................  But you know what? Most of what I’ve been doing this week I’m not Ready to Reveal. I’m afraid I’m not one to splurge until just the right moment, plus I take a kind of Hippocratic Oath towards my clients.  Well, don’t you agree it would be ghastly to find your name and business out there in the ether before you knew about stuff yourself?

So having thought about it overnight, and recharged my batteries (with apologies to those who read a very truncated version of this post yesterday!), I’m going to dig up a thorny literary topic that is relevant to almost every debut novel I come across. The issue of Back Story, Present Story, and Future Story.  Now, Back Story is something you’ll have heard of before - the other Stories I’ve just invented to clarify the importance of the entire shape of, well, the story. If you can get your head around this, you’ll find it so much easier to create really convincing characters who (as we editors say) ‘leap off the page’.

The thing is, your characters don’t only exist within the confines of the obvious, immediate story you are telling.  You have to understand deeply - and convey to us, your readers - that, in fact, your characters had lives long before the first page of your novel.  They had lives in which they grew, developed, loved, lost, experienced joy and sorrow . . . all of which is compacted into that character whom we meet in the opening pages of your story. Many events, possibly long in the past, possibly just recently, entangled the lives of your characters and brought them together as your story opens.  They didn’t just spring into being on Page 1 - they were deeply formed before we ever met them. It’s just that now - as your novel opens - the spotlight has swung on to their world and illuminated them into print.  At the end of the story the spotlight will swing away once more, leaving them beyond us, in darkness.  And yet we have to believe they are still out there - and that we can imagine what they will be doing, where they will be headed, because of the story you revealed and constructed under that spotlight and long before. After all, if we really know your characters, we’re also likely to know what kinds of decisions and choices they might make in the future.

In practical terms all this means you must have a really strong and thoroughly worked-out grasp of those characters and all the events and dynamics that brought them to your Page 1. This is your Back Story.  You will need to reason out the logic of many situations, understand the personalities, deconstruct and reconstruct a whole world (especially if you are writing fantasy or anything supernatural).  Everything in your Front Story - the action that takes place within the pages of your novel - depends on a successfully constructed Back Story. 

You need to know where you are headed long before you ever start writing.  You need a literary road map that will take you from A-Z - the Z being a strong and clear conclusion, that will make sense of all that has happened before.  In many cases that ending will leave you with a clue to what the Future Story of those characters might be; what may happen to them after the book is closed or the Kindle is powered down (yes, I am rapidly becoming a big fan of the Amazon Kindle - invaluable for we ‘professional readers’ who have to gobble up print at insane speeds and don’t have enough bookcases).  I’m not talking about a sequel (though if you are intending to write one then you need an even clearer set of navigation points) - I’m talking about leaving your readers with a deep grasp of the reality of your characters. 

What you cannot do is invent your characters and their lives as you go along.  I’m not saying you can’t add bits and pieces and a lot of colour - I’m saying that broadly you need to know where they’ve come from and where they’re headed to.

Grasp your back story, imagine the spotlight swinging on to the stage of your characters’ lives and then away again - and I think you’ll find it very, very much easier to write your Front Story.

Give it a shot! Cheers and wishing you a happy weekend.

On Friday I had a sudden strong urge to jack it all in and run a tea shop.

Let me explain.  ‘Running a tea shop’ is British shorthand for considering a change of career. Because somewhere, in the recesses of most of our minds, is the notion of skipping away into a bucolic setting, acquiring a cottage (preferably pre-17th century), with roses climbing up its ancient stone, and spending one’s days serving tea (preferably from a floral-patterned, antique teapot), scones with home-made strawberry jam (Americans: preserves), cream that could coat your arteries at first intake, and a range of freshly made and delectable cakes. All this would take place in the perfect cottage garden, where colourful parasols would shade the crisp, white tablecloths . . . 

You have the picture?  Are you salivating for coffee cake?  Then I’ll tell you why I had the tea-shop moment.

A gentleman called me on Friday (a very nice gentleman, so, sir, if you have dropped in, I wish you good day).  He runs a website that tracks agents’ deals and wanted to update my information. We clarified a few points and I then I volunteered certain things about the Greenhouse - my ability to work editorially with new authors, the information to be found on the website, the kinds of manuscripts I am particularly interested in . . .  But it soon became clear that authors who use the site are only interested in one thing:  tracking which agents do the biggest deals. And that’s it.

Now, I am an agent who loves to do deals (and score pretty well given Greenhouse only launched very recently). I love auctions. I love negotiating, I love making money for my authors.  I love pursuing every opportunity. But for me, the size of the deal can’t be the only criteria for evaluating anything - I just don’t find the industry works that way. It takes an awful lot more than being a Good Agent to make an experienced publisher part with their precious acquisition dollars (or any other currency). There is no kind of subterfuge - they will buy what they want to buy, at its market value.  As the agent your job is to find them the manuscripts they are going to love (if possible, a ‘must have’) - and then do your level best to get your author the best possible deal (which is going to be very much easier if more than one publisher wants it).

But there are always Mystery X factors that you can’t control.  Like what they’ve already bought and have scheduled (and bear in mind publishers now will have most of their 2010 programs in place). Did you know there are lots of ‘funny ghost’ novels coming in the next 2 years?  Well, there are.  I well remember the year at Bologna where every second house had an ‘angel’ novel coming up; and the subsequent year when everything was the Irish Potato Famine.  And of course, much more recently, the endless vampire fiction. There is a weird kind of zeigeist that goes on, long before anyone knows there’s a tipping point in that theme or genre - or even a trend.

But to go back to the big deals.  There are the authors who score whopping deals first time out (and may then find it very hard ever to earn out those advances and get royalties). But there are also the smaller deals that change a person’s life, because they enable that individual to write, as they’d always wanted. And those authors can grow - so, if well managed and published, and with a fair wind behind them, that same author can quite possibly be making considerably more a few years down the tracks.  Do you think J.K. Rowling started huge? or Stephanie Meyer? Or Meg Cabot?  The answer is NO, THEY DIDN’T. In each case, an agent, an editor, believed in them and gave them that all-important first step into publication. Most authors don’t spring up fully formed, either in talent or income; they grow - or rather, they are grown, by editors, publicity, marketing, rights, and sales departments.

As an agent, you have a choice:  you could sit in your office waiting for the occasional novel with massive potential to swing by (once a year?) - or you can work with a range of authors, with varying styles, genres, expectations and potentials. And that’s what I like to do. Because I believe literary fiction should also be encouraged (which would certainly go out the window if you only focus on huge deals); the newly budding talent should be developed and given light and air. Publishers’ lists have room for all - the ‘super lead’, the ‘lead’, and the ‘take a risk’ fiction, and I believe that as agents and as publishers we owe it to our young readers to provide them with the full spectrum, not just a tiny number of same-old, sure-fire blockbusters. If you pursue the ‘publishing only whopper deals’ theory to its logical conclusion, we’d end up with shelves stocking very little, because a tiny minority of books would eat the rest. Sometimes it feels like we’re already not far off that - do we really want to make it worse?

I love working with new authors - that talent growing and developing, tentative, unsure and lacking in confidence.  They deserve to be given a publishing chance too.  This is a cut-throat business; but we should never lose sight of the small because we only have eyes for the large. 

So I’m off into the yard now, to soak up this glorious holiday-weekend sunshine.  Shame there’s no tea and cakes out there.  But hey, you KNOW I’d be rubbish at running a tea shop. Right?

Does anyone know if she’s any good?  Why does she have that funny commission structure?  How long does she take to reply? What’s her track record in the USA? Does she HAVE any track record in the USA???? 

Yes, the literary blogosphere is a scary place to find yourself - especially when you’re the one under the microscope, pinned and wriggling on the wall.  It was a shock when I first checked out a helpful would-be author’s link - and found myself being discussed at considerable length, and in a fair amount of detail, by people I’ve never had any contact with in my life. This kind of thing is new to me and seems to proliferate much more in the US than in the UK (though I could be being a bit naive about that).  Is it good, is it bad? Well, I guess it’s fine, so long as it helps you lot out there, and so long as it doesn’t encourage people to have seriously unreal expectations of how an agent should (or feasibly can) carry out their business.  But it does make me want to pop up, wave my hand and say, ‘Hi there, you have a burning question? Then ask me! I don’t bite!’

So let’s see if I can answer some of those questions you’ve been storing up. Why is my commission structure different to other agents based in the USA?  Because I represent both American and British authors (currently about half and half) and both countries are my home, so I do the logical thing and take the same commission (15%) on sales to both territories (instead of calling the UK ‘foreign’ and taking 20%).  But Greenhouse can’t afford just to give away that 5%, so instead we put it on to foreign sales (ie, the rest of the world) and take 25% there instead of 20%.  It all works out the same in the end - and if you are lucky enough to have a big deal in both the US and UK (likely to be your biggest markets), then you would do pretty well out of this method of cutting the cake.

Now, the issue of my track record.  I’ve been a publisher my whole working life. My career took me from Collins (when it was William Collins Sons & Co Ltd - ie, long before it was HarperCollins) to Transworld (now part of Random House) and then to Macmillan UK, where I started in 1994 as Fiction Editor, moving fairly rapidly to Senior Editor, then Editorial Director, then Publishing Director of Fiction - and finally in about 2005 to Publishing Director of the whole of Macmillan Children’s Books, which published 200 titles per year, from preschool novelty books right through to sophisticated teenage fiction under the YPicador imprint, which I was instrumental in launching.  I was on the Board of the business and led a large team of editors, so divided my time between senior management and hands-on editing, which I never completely let go.  Here are some of the authors I worked with and published:  Judy Blume, Meg Cabot (I acquired her for the UK and Commonwealth and developed the Princess Diaries series when Harper US had only bought one book; you’ll find my name in some dedications!), Sharon Creech, Karen Cushman, Carolyn Coman, Caroline B Cooney, Cynthia Voigt, Gary Paulsen, Coleen Murtagh Paratore, Carl Hiaasen and David Baldacci (children’s novels); Philip Pullman, Eva Ibbotson, Robert Westall, Lian Hearn, Celia Rees, Frank Cottrell Boyce, Geri Halliwell (yes, I worked with a Spice Girl!), Frances Hardinge - oh, and so many more. Earlier years also took in Terry Pratchett and Jacqueline Wilson (one of Britain’s bestselling children’s authors).

So what are my credentials within the USA?  Well, I was very much an international publisher - as many senior publishers are these days in our big, globalized publishing industry.  Apart from the bookfairs and other international trade events, I made many trips to New York in my London days, and helped to forge close relationships with American sister companies and other US lists. Many of my best publishing buddies are in the States, which has given me a wonderful platform on which to build now I live over here.  When you come from a very strong publishing background you become known - and it’s been really exciting to see how enormously keen publishers have been to find out what the Greenhouse has to offer (and also, I have to say, whom I have chosen to represent). The great thing about being a former publisher is that you know the business intimately, how it works, its culture, and I am finding that depth of experience incredibly helpful as I work with authors in this new way.

So that’s a brief snapshot of many years of my history.  But here’s what I really think of as my ‘track record’:  I know the dream, and I understand the dream.  The dream of one day finding your name in print; of sharing your creativity with the world; of seeing your talent recognized and appreciated.  I understand the thrill, the heartbreak, the frustration, the hope, the desperately hard (and always solitary) work that goes into achieving that dream.  And, quite frankly, the sacrifice (and not always just for you, the author, but also your loved ones).  Representing authors is for me a vocation, not just a business. It’s my passion and my joy. But I can’t do it for the many; I can only do it for the very, very few.  And if I take a few weeks to get back to you, and my note is short, I hope you will be forgiving. I’m doing my best, but you are not the only one who is writing to me. I try to give what I can to everyone, but inevitably it won’t be that much for the many.

Cheers, folks, and now it’s time to knock off and cook the dinner!