Blog 105 - Agent Ready?

Blog 105 - Agent Ready?

February 2026

Hey there, fellow page turners, word nerds, and curious strangers who somehow stumbled onto this corner of the internet! I know it’s been a while since I last bothered you with a post. I’ve been holed up in a fortress of sticky notes, coffee cups, and an ever growing pile of manuscript pages, and the silence on the blog has been louder than a badly edited dialogue tag. So, for that I owe you a sincere, unreserved apology.

So, what’s the story behind my radio silence? Short answer: I’ve been busy. Long answer: I’ve been busy (and I promise the latter comes with a side of drama, caffeine, and the occasional emotional crisis).

Let me take you behind the curtain of the chaotic, exhilarating, and occasionally absurd world of getting two novels ready for the ever demanding eyes of agents and publishers. Spoiler alert – it’s no small undertaking, but it’s also a lot more fun than you’d think once you get used to the ritual of talking to yourself in the third person.

1. The “Polish Until It Shines” Phase (aka The Never Ending Edit)
If you’ve ever tried to clean a window with a squeegee that’s missing a rubber strip, you’ll have a vague idea of what editing feels like. You’re constantly scraping away smudges, only to discover a new fingerprint right where you thought you’d cleared the pane. My two manuscripts have both been through at least three rounds of “big picture” edit, followed by a fourth round of “sentence level” edit, and now I’m somewhere between a “line by line” nit-pick and a full blown “copy editor on steroids” mode.

What does that look like in practice? Picture me, perched on the edge of my desk at 2 a.m., scrolling through a paragraph that reads: “She walked into the room, her eyes darting around like a squirrel on a caffeine binge, searching for the hidden key.”

And then thinking, “Do we really need the squirrel metaphor? Does the squirrel have a caffeine habit? Maybe just ‘her eyes darted across the room, hunting for the hidden key.’”

That’s the level of detail we’re talking about. It’s a love hate relationship with every word. I love the dance of language, but I also hate the fact that I spend more time arguing with my own sentences than I do with actual people.

2. The “Agent Ready” Checklist (Because Agents Have Feelings Too)
Once the manuscript is polished to the point where I can read it without cringing, the next hurdle appears: transforming it into an agent ready package. No, it’s not just slapping a pretty cover on the manuscript and sending it off like a love note. There’s a surprisingly bureaucratic side to the literary world, and I’ve discovered a new appreciation for spreadsheets.

The checklist includes:

Query Letter – My version of a “first impression” elevator pitch. I’ve written more drafts of this letter than I have of any single chapter. The goal is to be concise, compelling, and to avoid sounding like a broken record of “I’m a writer.”
Synopsis – A 500 word (or sometimes 1,000 word) summary that captures the whole arc without turning into a spoiler filled trailer. Think of it as a movie trailer that doesn’t reveal the ending.
Sample Chapters – Typically the first three, though some agents request the first five. I’ve learned that the opening must hook faster than a cat video on the internet.
Author Bio – A witty paragraph that says, “I’m a lifelong storyteller, coffee addict, and the proud owner of a cat named Hemingway.” (Yes, my cat actually thinks he’s a literary critic.)
Formatting – Double spaced, 12 point Times New Roman, 1 inch margins. It sounds simple, but one missed formatting rule can feel like a tiny betrayal.
I’ve spent afternoons (and a few evenings) formatting and re formatting, because apparently, a manuscript that looks like a tax return is less likely to get a response. Trust me, the agents are human, and they do appreciate a clean, professional presentation. It’s the literary equivalent of showing up to a date in a crisp shirt rather than pyjamas.

3. The “What If” Carousel (A Writer’s Favourite Ride)
While the technical side of the process has been a whirlwind, the emotional roller coaster is where the real drama lives. Every time I hit “send” on a query, a tiny version of me pops up and asks:

What if they love it?
I imagine the agent calling me, “We’re thrilled—let’s sign!” and I start rehearsing my acceptance speech. I even practice the “thank you” to my mom, my cat, and the coffee shop that kept me fuelled.

What if they reject me?
The classic “rejection letter” nightmare. I picture a polite “We appreciate your submission, but…” and wonder if I’ll be able to keep my sanity after the third “thank you for your interest.” Spoiler: I will. I have a secret stash of chocolate and a playlist of empowerment anthems.

What if they don’t respond at all?
The silent treatment. It’s like dating someone who never texts back. I stare at my inbox, waiting for that green “accepted” tick, and then I remind myself that the literary world is a marathon, not a sprint.

The truth is, each scenario feels massive in the moment, but the more I go through it, the more I realize that the process itself is a form of storytelling. I’m crafting a narrative about my own journey, complete with cliff-hangers, side quests (like learning to knit so I can make book themed scarves), and a cast of supportive friends who send me memes about “writer burnout” (a phrase that, frankly, should be a medical condition).


4. The Sweet Spot: Finding Joy in the Grind
Amid the spreadsheets, rewrite marathons, and nervous “send” button clicks, there’s a pocket of pure, unadulterated joy. It’s the moment when a line finally lands the way you envisioned, or when a character you’ve been nurturing for months decides to actually do something daring. It’s the small, quiet victories that keep me typing long after the coffee has run out.

For instance, in one of my novels, I finally found a way to explain the protagonist’s obsession with maps without resorting to a clunky exposition dump. A single sentence—“He traced the continents with his fingertips, as if the world were an old friend he could feel through the paper.”—clicked, and I could feel the narrative muscles flexing. It reminded me why I fell in love with writing in the first place: the ability to make people feel something, even if it’s just a tiny tug on the heart.

5. A couple of Promise’s to You (and to My Future Self)
So here I am, finally emerging from the trenches of manuscript prep, ready to share my progress with the world—one blog post at a time.

1) I promise to post more regularly, to be less of a ghost, and to keep you in the loop as I navigate the wild world of literary agents, editors, and, of course, the inevitable “what’s next?” moments. If you’re a fellow writer stuck in the same edit loop, know that you’re not alone. If you’re a reader curious about the behind the scenes of book creation, I hope this peek gave you a chuckle (or at least a coffee sized dose of empathy). And if you’re simply here for a light hearted escape, consider this my invitation to join me on the adventure—one quirky anecdote, one mis typed word, and one triumphant “send” button press at a time.

2) I promise that in an upcoming post I will include a sample chapter (yes, you read that right) and maybe a photo of my cat looking very disapprovingly at my “draft” manuscript.

Thank you for your patience, and for believing that a writer’s keyboard can still produce something magical, even after a long hiatus. Until then, keep reading, keep writing, and never underestimate the power of a well timed coffee break. -Speaking of which…