Tragic news, friends. After sixteen years of impeccable reputation, Stephen Barr, a senior literary agent at Writers House, has suffered a precipitous fall from the lofty heights of good taste.
He’s signed me as a client.
Surely this poor judgement is a blemish upon the sterling list of NYT Bestsellers, MacArthur Fellows, and National Book Award nominees he currently represents. How do you go from David Macaulay and Eli Brown (Cinnamon and Gunpowder is an INCREDIBLE novel) to A Thief Called Honest, my sordid little fantasy (to be re-titled) about con artists sabotaging a crusade?
But Stephen’s loss is my HOLY CRAP HOW DID THIS HAPPEN? I’ve been writing novels since fifth grade. Querying agents since eleventh. And now here I am, some fifteen years, eight completed novels, and 300+ query rejections later . . .
. . . with an agent.
AT FREAKING WRITERS HOUSE.
I have absolute BUCKETS of gratitude to Stephen and his assistant agent, Erica McGrath, for taking a chance and plucking me from the slush pile, and more gratitude for the veritable horde of family, friends, and teachers, past and present, who’ve inspired me, given me feedback, egged me on, and provided so many other forms of encouragement and instruction in what sometimes feels like the very maddest dream a person could pursue.
You all gave me the map and put the sword in my hand. Whatever follows is YOUR fault.
Most of all, I’m grateful to my wife, Lauryn, who has inexplicably supported me through the often-tumultuous seascape of a wannabe-writer’s emotions, and to Jack, who was born about a month after I started on this novel, and who has reminded me that however much I care about stories, people matter far, FAR more.
Quite a few friends have asked what comes next. I’ll be chronicling everything on my blog, from my query, to The Offer Call, to the eventual process of taking this book on submission. You can also read about how I got scammed when I tried to purchase a little OHMYGOSH I GOT AN AGENT treat for myself: a full-scale, museum-quality replica of ANDURIL, THE FLAME OF THE WEST.
Because, yes.
Yes, I am the very coolest.
Thank you for noticing.
Luke Wildman 