I started My So-Called Literary Life as a way to explore the idea of that great white whale, literary storytelling, outside of the constraints of a novel. I made two posts. And then…radio silence. The Substack app glowed orange on my phone as I went about reorganize my life and not feeling like I had much time for art or television or discovery.
So what happened?
Most people who are aware that this Substack exists will know I made a big career change. Big to me because I’m not a fan of change generally. (I’ve rebought the same winter coat three times—Cole Haan’s cinched waist puffer, navy blue—and I’ve had the same dog since I was a junior in college—a dachshund mix who refuses to die.) But also this change was big to me because I was leaving my first agency home. Prior to this fall, I’d work at the same agency (albeit under a few different agency names and job titles) my entire publishing career. I loved a lot about my life there. I signed great clients and worked widely and wildly across domestic and foreign publishing, audio, and film. So the decision to leave was not easy. And I didn’t feel like I had time to examine the outside world when my own internal landscape was shifting so drastically.
You might wonder what it’s like for an agent to change jobs. It’s a part of the publishing ecosystem that resides in that deep, dark part of the book-making ocean. Imagine agents mulling over their careers on a bed of client galleys in the Mariana Trench.
Unlike editors who tend to move as a normal course of business in order to get title bumps and salary jumps—I have a lot of thoughts on this!—agents are more likely to hunker down at one agency for a significant period of time. One reason for this is pragmatism. Our work has a vein of independence running through it that means the day-to-day annoyances of a more corporate existence don’t factor in for many of us. And it’s a bit of an uncertainty how the conversation that you’re leaving an agency will go with that agency. Do you get to take your clients? The projects you’ve been working on? Commission from books you already sold? It depends! And because there is a level of discretion required most of these discussions between an agent and a prospective new agency happen under the radar. (A classic who helps the helpers conundrum.)
But like with most job changes, it requires a lot of soul searching, the generosity and candor of others putting in a good word with so-and-so, and a precise focus on what this move will (hopefully) call into existence.
I started working with Massie McQuilkin & Altman Literary Agents at the end of September. You know their work and their clients. (Tom Perrota, Lidia Yuknavitch, Jesmyn Ward, Ada Limón, Roxane Gay, Elizabeth McCracken, Kelly Link…not to pick favorites…) I’m lucky to have landed in a situation where I’m being given the opportunity to concentrate solely on my own client list supported by other agents who are just as passionate about safeguarding art and jumpstarting conversations as I am.
Which brings me to the point of this post. Now that I’m firmly settled at my new desk and on the mend from breaking two fingers—I have some gnarly, Yellowjackets-esque photos of pins in my fingers for any sickos who are interested—we come to the million dollar question in publishing and in life. What exactly are you looking for?
The unhelpful answer would be the good stuff. The writing that is so sharp in purpose and voice that it leaves you in a reading hangover the next day. The books that develop a wild flavor profile out of a bunch of disparate ingredients that shouldn’t go down this smooth and you would never dream of putting this much energy into making something for consumption but you’re sure as hell glad somebody did.
Practically speaking, I’ve got some buckets I’m looking to fill category-wise. These include, in no particular order:
Memoir+ a personal story that floats to the surface through reportage on or exploration of an obsession
Body horror think Nightbitch or The Substance, a story tied to a societal observation and not just gore for gore’s sake
Thriller that feels emotionally complex and is set in a very particular and unusual setting written about with expertise
Contemporary fiction that feels expansive in scope (sweeping family narrative for example)
Grounded speculative fiction what is sometimes referred to in “the biz” as “one buy sci-fi” which translates to a story set in the present world as we know it but one, crucial aspect is different (think Exit West or The School for Good Mothers)
Strong reportage
Travel writing focused on modern day concerns, an antidote to the old American abroad lens
Nature writing that has a strong central questions or unforgettable human characters
If your project doesn’t fit this brief, still feel free to try me! (Just don’t query me and another MMQA agent simultaneously. That’s bad form. More on etiquette and querying directions for MMQA here.) I love to be surprised by juicy writing on subjects I wasn’t necessarily on the hunt for. It happened this week in my unsolicited submission pile. It’s always a treat.
My-So Called Literary Life will remain my little yawp in the art wilderness looking for literary sensibility in other art mediums outside of the novel. And The Publishing Punch Bowl is where I’ll sidle up to be in conversation with the world of book publishing. It’s publishing water cooler talk but with a little more joie de vivre. Let’s fill our plastic cups and talk shop!
I’m looking forward to meeting you on the page here, in my Substack. Or I’d love to read about your own obsessions in my inbox. Or maybe we’ll even get to say howdy in real life if you’ll be at a conference like AWP. I have some agenting goals in 2026 that will need author participation. And I’m excited to spend time developing projects with new-to-me writers and my current clients. I only get to do my job when writers are good at their jobs. As a bastardization of the Friday Night Lights quote might read: new agency, full hearts, can’t lose!
Hope you're on the mend soon! Finger injuries have always struck me as an especially fraught condition for us literary types...