Hello! If you’re reading this page, I assume you’re a literary agent. You’ve seen some of my writing and you’re considering whether you might be interested in representing me.
There are some things you should know as a professional courtesy. I am the sort of writer who talks about her life experiences with phrases like “lessons from my spiritual Passchendaele”. If you truly wish to work with me, you should know that this is the kind of edgy Gothic/Heavy Metal transwoman you would court. I present things in grandiose terms because that’s how I gain a sense of control over them.
I’d hope that’s much of my appeal to you, but if so, please understand that the psychological factors driving whatever you found enticing about my work are the same ones at play here. So:
You’re considering whether to represent a bitter, jaded mess. That tropey warrior who can’t trust anyone any longer because she’s been let down too many times? That’s me. Could you be the exception? Perhaps it’s best if you’re not. There was a much longer, edgier variant of this page which went on for far too long. Allow me to cut to the core instead.
I’m open to chatting about the craft of writing and I won’t say that I’m absolutely against representation, but l fear for your purposes I might as well be: I will not sign over the rights to my books under any circumstances. I’ve seen far too many horror stories about authors who could only watch, helpless, while corporate entities butchered their works. If you’re willing to discuss some eldritch text-flay of an agreement that allows me to retain sole ownership, then we might yet come to terms!
I understand no agent would actually agree to this, so–let’s agree to be friendly but unbound.