Note: My posting today kicks off “Agents Week” here at The Little Blog of Murder. Whenever any of us speak to groups, we’re sure to be asked about agents: Do you have one? How’d you get one? Do you need one? So, every day this week we’ll be talking about our own experiences. I’m not sure what the others are going to say — heck, I’m not even sure what I’m about to say. But here goes:

There’s an old adage that you can’t get published without an agent and you can’t get an agent unless you’re published.

Is it true?

Well, it’s true enough that it’s become an old adage, but obviously new writers do find their way onto bookshelves every year.

Every published author has his or her own story on how they became a published author. Here’s mine:

On and off, I spent 25 years trying to get published. That’s a long time. Was it because I was a horrible writer? No. But apparently I wasn’t good enough for the publishers or agents I wasted a whole lotta postage on. And, in my defense, it should also be noted that during those years I was also raising kids, buying houses and working a career. So there weren’t all that many hours left each week for the big dream.

My break with publishers and agents came in 1997. I was 48 years old, living in an old Holly house trailer behind my parents’ garage (my Holly Years, I call them) and trying like the dickens to write fantasy novels. Halfway through a fantasy novel, I changed directions and wrote a quick little literary novel called Going To Chicago. It was about three Ohio farm boys who take a road trip to the 1934 Chicago World’s Fair. I sold it to a small publisher in Sag Harbor, New York, called The Permanent Press. I then went back and finished the fantasy novel.

Using my contract with The Permanent Press as bait, I went about trying to land an agent for my fantasy novels. Kersplash! Before I knew it I was under contract with an agent that specialized in fantasy. I went to New York, met with her at an outdoor café. Heady, heady stuff.

That agent, however, could not sell my fantasy novels. She did, however, help me sell my next two non-fantasy novels – to the aforementioned Permanent Press. The first of those novels was called Serendipity Green. The second, Fresh Eggs. Both received great reviews and sold pretty well for small press books. Serendipity Green received a glowing full-page review in the New York Times Review of Books. Fresh Eggs was nominated for the Pulitzer and won a nice little paperback deal with Putnam.

Then I wrote the first Morgue Mama mystery. My agent, who had worked very hard for me with both my fantasies and other novels, did not want me to be a mystery writer. So, we departed amicably and I tried to sell my mystery on my own. By now, I figured, I’d had enough success to get a contract without an agent. Wrong. Very few publishing houses would even look at my manuscript, and those that did said no thanks.

So, Morgue Mama went into the drawer and I went back to my literary novels. Wrote a couple that nobody wanted. Then two years later, Marty Shepard, owner of The Permanent Press, offered to be my agent for Morgue Mama. I said okay, and he quickly sold a series to Poisoned Pen Press. Barbara Peters at Poisoned Pen already knew my work. A few years earlier she’d nominated Fresh Eggs for the important Book Sense 76 List.

So now Marty Shepard was not only one of my publishers, he was also my agent!

Were I writing this a month of week ago, the story would end right there. But you see, I got a call from Marty a few weeks back. “Hi, Rob,” he says in that ho-hum New York way of his, “I just wanted you to know that I got a call from Jeff (his film rights agent in LA) and there’s an offer on the table for Serendipity Green.”

Serendipity Green was published in 2000! Eight years ago! Now, an offer was on the table.

Last Thursday, Marty called again. “Hi Rob,” he says, “I just emailed you the contract for Serendipity Green. Sign the last page and fax it to Jeff so he can close the deal today.”

Anyhoo, there you have it. I have a book under option in Hollywood. Will it ever be made into a movie? The odds are always against it, but, hey, who knows. Stranger things in my writing life have happened.

So, back to the old adage:

I’ve sort of made my way both with and without an agent. What is really important is that you have some good people in the industry that believe in you. People like Marty Shepard and Barbara Peters. And Jeff in Hollywood. And hopefully the guy who just optioned my book.