Thinking of getting a literary agent? That can be easier said than done, with agents sifting through hundreds or even thousands of proposals a month.

For many writers wondering how to get a literary agent, the answer goes beyond just finishing a manuscript.

Anna Knutson Geller is a literary agent who splits her time between New York and San Miguel de Allende in Mexico.

Specializing in spirituality, practical non-fiction, and inspirational memoirs with her agency Write View, Ms. Geller says that aside from a gripping sense of storytelling and a real authority over the subject matter, an author’s existing platform plays a big role. 

“I’m looking at whether they blog, whether they send a newsletter, what their social media presence is like,” says Ms. Geller. 

“I’m looking for someone who is not only able to write, but able to amplify that message out to a wider readership.”

You may have thought that once you’ve done all the hard work of writing your book, the marketing side would all be up to the publisher, but that is no longer the case. 

These days, new authors are expected to have already built an audience for their work. 

“It’s important because there are so many books published each year that unless your idea is so novel and compelling that it really will speak for itself and draw an audience to it, more and more publishers are really looking for an author who has laid that groundwork of getting a built-in readership, even before that book comes into the world,” says Ms Geller. 

Aside from beefing up your social media presence and personal blog, there are several other steps you can take to make it easier to find an agent. 

This includes doing your homework, knowing the name of the person you are addressing, what the agency specializes in, and why your work would be a good fit for them.  

“If somebody is submitting a fantasy novel, you can see on my website that I really focus on non-fiction,” says Ms. Geller.

“I like to see that a prospective author has done their homework in terms of why they are submitting to me and not just doing a blanket submission to fifty-something agents.”

Having a firm handle on what your book is about is also crucial – and surprisingly rare.

“What I don’t see enough is authors who really know how to encapsulate the main idea of their book in a one- to two-sentence hook,” Ms. Geller explains.  

“If you, as an author, can’t really grab someone’s attention by describing your book in a quick and pithy way, no one else is going to be able to do that for you.”

When approaching her, this short pitch should be right at the top of your email, because agents are busy and don’t want to read a whole page just to understand what you are inquiring about. 

According to Ms. Geller, most also don’t want to open attachments from unknown contacts, to avoid viruses, so don’t attach your proposal in your first email. Rather, just send a short inquiry with that concise, enticing pitch, and hold the full proposal until you receive a response. 

And for those who are ready to get their book out there and want to ensure their proposal does it justice, Anna Geller will be teaching a three-hour intensive workshop on proposal writing at the San Miguel Writers’ Conference on February 16, 2019. 

Produced for the website of the international San Miguel de Allede’s Writers’ Conference & Literary Festival.

Have you ever been to a literary reading and, despite your best intentions, found yourself in need of a strong coffee just to make it through?

You are not alone.

Reading a book is a private experience. You can stop when you like or stay up late getting lost in another world. It is entirely up to you.

Public readings, on the other hand, can be hit-or-miss. If you are unlucky, the only person getting lost in another world is the author, while everyone else is discreetly glancing at their watches.

Later, you check your email and scroll through Facebook, Twitter, or YouTube for more entertaining and less time-consuming ways to access stories.

With so much competition for our attention, do books and literary readings stand a chance in the long run?

In 2006, that concern prompted Adrian Todd Zuniga, Elizabeth Koch, and Dennis DiClaudio to look for a new way to showcase writers’ work.

They wanted to get audiences excited about literature afgain. But how?

The answer debuted at The Back Room, a speakeasy in New York City.

This was not an exercise in coddling authors or letting them read for as long as they liked. It was a battle of brevity, where only the most succinct and compelling would survive, with just minutes to capture the audience’s attention.

The Literary Death Match was born.

Despite the dramatic name, the event is high energy and playful, says co-organiser and author Adrian Todd Zuniga.

At each Literary Death Match, four handpicked writers read their work for up to seven minutes. Three judges then assess the performances from different angles: literary merit, stage presence, and the somewhat mysterious category of “intangibles.”

The two finalists face off in a light-hearted game to determine the winner.

From the beginning, the idea of turning literary readings into performance gained traction. For the very first event, the team secured musician Moby as a judge. Many other high-profile names followed.

Judges are not limited to authors. They come from a wide range of backgrounds, including acting, comedy, dance, and music.

With a strict seven-minute limit per reader, the total reading time stays under 30 minutes.

Zuniga says the time cap was inspired by watching attention spans fade at conventional readings.

“Within the literary community, there is this idea that we never cut anybody off,” he says.

“We would go to readings and somebody would read for five minutes and be excellent, and then you would see someone read for 25 minutes and everybody wanted to gouge their eyes out.”

Keeping literary readings short sets clear expectations and allows the organisers to build entertainment around the work.

There is also a stand-up element, with Zuniga delivering an opening monologue and judges offering spontaneous commentary. He says this format works even alongside serious or heartbreaking material.

The goal is to introduce audiences to new authors and provoke thought, without taking itself too seriously.

After more than a dozen years and over 480 matches in 37 cities worldwide, Literary Death Match has helped to revive literature readings.

Zuniga recalls some extraordinary audience responses, including 800-seat venues so quiet you could hear a pin drop.

One of his favourite moments took place at the San Antonio Book Festival, when author Antonio Sacre delivered a piece on stripping in relation to writing.

Sacre spoke about stripping away everything until only the essential remained. He turned the metaphor into a physical performance, and the audience erupted.

“People didn’t just give him a standing ovation. They jumped up. Women came and threw dollar bills on the stage,” Zuniga recalls.

“It was amazing to watch that response. People really lost it. I loved that moment.”

Zuniga’s ambitions extend beyond the live stage. He believes that in today’s political climate, when truth and reliable information matter deeply, literature is experiencing a revival and should reach broader platforms.

He is currently working on a documentary and hopes to bring Literary Death Match to the screen. A meeting with Netflix, he says, could be the next step.

Get a taste of how a Literary Death Match works (video courtesy of LDM):

You can experience your own death match at the San Miguel Writers’ Conference & Literary Festival in February 2019. 

Produced for the San Miguel Writers’ Conference & Literary Festival, held annually in Mexico.