A wizened best-selling author once told me there are three truths about literary agents:
- Everyone needs one.
- A good one is worth their weight in gold.
- A bad one – or a bad fit – is usually worse than not having one at all.
That’s spot-on advice. I should know: I’ve had five agents in my career, ranging from one who charged me a pile of “fees” and then vanished, two who sold nothing and caused me varying amounts of grief (ranging from low-grade irritation to me wailing like a yeti with kidney stones), and two who sold books for me.
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