What My Infamous 200-Agent Study Did and Did Not Prove

In June, to test whether literary agents actually read queries, I conducted a now-infamous signs-of-life study, to my knowledge the largest ever, in which 200 agents were sent an antiquery of sufficient literary merit that, if materials were read, I would find out. The results were conclusive. Zero. Dead air. Some form letters. No evidence of substantive engagement. No evidence that agents do, in fact, read.

Is this proof that agents, categorically, never read? No. What we have learned is that they seldom (if ever) read for quality. Text doesn’t matter because other things—such as reach and social capital—do. It isn’t their fault. Most agents struggle getting editors to read unknown authors, and advances for new books are so low, agents must optimize their workflows around quick flips. If a manuscript will require more than 150 minutes of investment to sell it, they must move on. This is survival for them, not prejudice.

The results of my study would not be scandalous, except for the publishing industry’s eagerness to promulgate a mythology of meritocracy. Slush-pile rescues are exceedingly rare, but readers are led to believe the titles put in front of them have come from a nationwide writing tournament in which everyone gets a fair read. It doesn’t violate any laws for traditional publishing to be nepotistic. Does it break a social contract? This is harder to assess. Not one of the 200 literary agents I reached for that study ever promised, on an individual level, to read a single word I’ve written. At the same time, any who have supported in any way their industry’s claims of meritocracy have, in essence, promised that a good share of the other 199 would. This is what I mean when I say nobody leads in publishing. Meritocracy is asserted, but it is somebody else’s job to see it through.

This is all made worse by two factors. The first is that people invest substantial sums of money trying to get manuscripts read by literary agents. The cost, including conference fees, manuscript assessments and developmental edits that may (or may not) lead to introductions, and MFA programs—which are the best way to get an agent, if you can take the time off—runs into the five-figure territory. Still this expense guarantees nothing. In fact, most book advances don’t even halfway cover the cost of querying. The second is that people associated with the industry invest tens of thousands of person-hours every year into defending its reputation at all costs. Most writing- and publishing-related subreddits are unusable because of all the misinformation posted on them. People who criticize the query process on r/PubTips, for example, are banned for “misinformation.” Somehow I suspect, and the data I have support this, that most of the fiercest defenders of existing systems are not even people who work in publishing, but authors who believe they’ll be offered six- or seven-figure deals if they keep saying good things about their bosses, as if we live under some social credit system in which praising the government will buy them perks. Maybe they are right and I am a world-class idiot for not seeing the opportunity.

What else am I not seeing?