I’m in the process of researching literary agents for my next round of submissions, which is to say there’s a list. It’s a long list, and it exists on index cards. One agent to a card, and they’re currently organized in blocks, according to genres represented. Whenever I run across a new tidbit of information–if it’s something that matters to me–that goes on the card. And that could be… well, almost anything. (I need things to obsess over.)
Some of this is objective. (Represents Fabulous Author A–a fact.)
And some of it is subjective. (Looks like Cousin Fred. YES. I KNOW. But do you really want a literary agent who reminds you of the exact texture of a sneaker full of earthworms?)
And some of it is stuff I’m still in the air about, but which probably deserves further consideration. (Did THING. No idea how I feel about that, but look. I drew a daisy to indicate I’m thinking about it.)
A list on note cards has a beautiful fluidity to it, and the note cards move back and forth.
Nope. I have absolutely no idea what I’m doing.