Having An Agent Is Weird

Last night, INTERN was chatting with a writer-friend about all things bookish, and they got to talking about agents. How the internet is stuffed with advice about snagging one (always snagging!) but goes curiously silent after the proverbial wedding day, like so many fairy tales. Just like the (presumably awkward) deflowering scene that happens off-stage in those fairytales, there's something the internet doesn't tell you about agents: Having An Agent Is Weird.

Why is having an agent the most awkward thing ever if you've never done it before?

It's a bit like dating your first boy/girlfriend.

If you are the least bit neurotic, you will constantly ask yourself "Do we talk enough? Am I too needy? Too distant? Amy and Brad call each other, like, every hour. Should I fly to NYC to visit him?"

You are the least bit self-doubty, you will wonder, "Does she/he really like me? Does he regret going out with me? Is he just waiting for the right moment to dump me? Is she embarrassed to be seen with me?"

If you are least bit insecure, you will find your friends and relatives rolling their eyes every time you say something like, "Sorry, I can't come over for dinner—me and my BOYFRIEND AGENT have a phone date." or "My AGENT said the CUTEST THING on Twitter today!"

Once you realize your agent is dating representing 10-50 other people besides you, your anxiety will only soar higher: "Everyone else s/he represents is so much more famous than me! What if s/he's just dating me out of pity?" "All his other clients are bestsellers. I should BURY MY HEAD IN A HOLE."

Your friends will tell you to chill out and stop overanalyzing things. You will spend all your time doing quizzes in Cosmo and Seventeen in a desperate attempt to assess the rightness or wrongness of your relationship with your agent. When you finally meet your agent (for something intimidatingly classy, like gelato or salade frisee or, like, some weird pâté thingie you don't know how to eat) you will be so excited you will almost wet your pants. After the meeting is over, you will walk away thinking, "hey, maybe that wasn't so awkward after all!"

You will go back and forth on revision stuff, or submission stuff, or contract stuff, and you will gradually realize that you are in a businessy creative relationship, not an angst-ridden romantic one. Then, and only then, will the Weirdness start to ebb.

So there you go. Having an agent is weird—at least, it's as weird as you make it, until you realize all you have to do is act normal. Now you know!