On the Outskirts of the Publishing Industry | Interview with Literary Agent
This is an interview with Sam Chidley.
Tal: First, why don’t you introduce yourself!
Sam: Hi, there. I’m Sam Chidley, literary agent and Hofstra alum.
T: What book got you into reading?
S: I’d guess it was probably one of those Choose Your Own Adventure books. I read several of those when I was a kid, and that was likely where it clicked for me that reading wasn’t just something you had to do as homework, that it could be exciting and fun. I actually reread one of them recently, and to be honest, even as an adult, I think there are much worse ways you could spend an hour of your time than flipping back and forth and following all the different possible storylines in one of those books. Maybe my character will get a happy ending, or maybe he’ll die gruesomely, or have to spend eternity alone in some dark cave. It’s up to you! Those were the first books that got me thinking about the mechanics of storytelling, about how the shape of a story changes because of the choices that characters make, and then also, just when you think you know where a story is leading, how delightful it feels to be surprised.
T: Why did you decide to work in the literary industry?
S: I think I was made for this work, but the road to my job was a long one, and for most of it I don’t think I knew where it was going. Even when I was growing up, I knew that I wanted to be a storyteller and work with other storytellers, but at the time I thought what that meant was that I should try to write and direct movies. It took me a few years to figure out that, no, my heart really belongs to books. So I decided I wanted to be a writer and work with other writers.
Eventually, I found my way to Hofstra’s MFA program for creative writing. While I was at Hofstra, I briefly worked as a reader for Windmill and had classes with a couple of really wonderful and encouraging teachers, along with some other experiences around that time that all made me think, “Hey, maybe I could make a go of it in publishing.” I worked a couple of internships, and it was during those internships that I realized this wasn’t just a job I could keep, this was a job I could love. As luck would have it, right around then there was an opening for an assistant position at a highly respected agency, and for probably the first time in my working life, everything just felt right. I’ve been there ever since, taking on more and more responsibilities and eventually building a client list of my own. And I do love it. Even on my most stressful days (and it can be stressful at times, but I haven’t seen a job yet that isn’t), I still sit back sometimes and just remind myself, “Geez, I really get to read books for a living.” And at the risk of sounding like an insufferable optimist, I think the work that I do, my small contribution to helping a handful of books find their way to readers out there in this world that we share, does make the world an incrementally better place, because those books are in it.
T: What do you look for when deciding on manuscripts? Do you choose based on a spark you feel when reading the book (using emotions) or what you think will sell based on the current market and trends (using logic)—or a balance of both?
S: My job calls for me to read a lot of material, from all kinds of different writers, and to form opinions on that material fairly quickly and to be able to articulate those opinions in a way that will be useful for business purposes. To that end, there are all kinds of important logical questions that I need to ask myself and be able to answer about any book that I’m considering. But if I’m being honest, those questions are rarely top of mind for me when I sit down to read a book for the first time. I got into this business because I like to read books, and so, when I’m first getting into something, I’m really just looking to see if I’m having that experience that we all recognize when we read something that captures our attention. If I’m asking myself any questions at all, they might be questions like, “Am I enjoying this?” or “Am I eager to see what happens on the next page?” “Does this really have my attention, or is half of my mind already thinking about all the other things I have to do today?” The best-case scenario at this point is that the work overcomes my conscious critical mind entirely, and I’m not thinking about anything except the words put in front of me as I enjoy the experience of reading. I guess you could call that a spark, though to me the word implies a rare experience that happens in an instant, whereas the response I’m describing is usually the result of an effect which has been deliberately crafted and skillfully maintained. And it’s not rare, thankfully. It happens all the time. For me, it’s one of the first indications that I’m in good hands, with a writer who knows what they’re doing.
After that though, I try to meet the books that I read on their own terms, as much as I’m capable of it, with curiosity and an open mind. So I feel like the particular judgements that I make take shape in a slightly different way for every book. If it’s obvious to me that the book isn’t a good fit for me, the questions that clarify that usually pop up for me fairly early on, for instance if the book is in an area that I’m not interested in working in or if I think the particular subject matter will make selling the book to a publisher unfeasible.
I’m definitely not smart enough to lay out all the considerations that go into the decision about whether to take on a manuscript, and I’m a little skeptical of answers that I’ve heard to this question which basically amount to something akin to love at first sight. It’s a business decision. So it needs to be made on those grounds. On the other hand, it’s a highly subjective business full of very passionate people. And if a book doesn’t move me in some significant way, doesn’t fill me with the kind of fervor I’ll need to work on it for the long and many hours it will take to bring it to readers, then we’re probably not going to get far off the starting block, and I wouldn’t be doing a service to myself or the author by taking it on. There are countless reasons to say no on any given project, so for me, I find that if I’m able to identify and articulate, for myself, at least one really good reason to say yes, absolutely (and hopefully there’s more than one), then I’m probably already a good way towards knowing how I’ll try to sell it.
T: How did you feel the first time you saw a book you worked on on shelves? Did that feeling change now that you have worked on many books, and if so, how?
S: I felt proud beyond reasonable proportion, especially considering how minor my contribution was to that particular book. It’s a little embarrassing to think about now. I would find reasons to mention the book casually at dinner parties, or the bar. I gave it to a couple of people as a gift. I left it on the corner of the coffee table, so that when someone picked it up, I could say, “Oh, it’s funny you should notice that one, in fact as it happens I...” And so on like that. I was totally shameless. Has that changed? I don’t know. Not the pride part. I hope I’ve become less obvious.
T: What is your current read, your favorite read, and one book you think everyone should read?
S: Current Read: North Woods by Daniel Mason
Favorite Read: I’m incapable of answering this.
Book I think everyone should read: This changes for me every 6 months or so. But right now I’d have to go with Life After Life by Kate Atkinson. It’s beyond brilliant, and I don’t think any praise I could give it here could possibly do justice to its beautiful complexity, but I hope no one will be offended if I say that many of the reasons I love it are the same as why I love those Choose Your Own Adventure books I mentioned earlier. It’s like a Choose Your Own Adventure for grown-ups, where the adventure is set during one of darkest chapters of human history and perhaps questions the very nature of choice, but with plenty of solid English humor and English cooking and a time loop scenario. It’s another one of those books that changed the way I think about reading.
T: Do you have any last comments about your role as a literary agent that we didn’t go over or any pieces of advice you have for recent graduates trying to get their foot in the publishing door?
S: I’m probably not the best person to ask for advice, but here’s what I’ve got, and hopefully it doesn’t cause too much harm: especially when you’re just getting started, it’s OK to not know what you want to do for the rest of your life, for the next ten years, for the next however long you think you can see clearly in front of you. And it’s OK if you think you know, but then later on you realize that you didn’t actually know at all and were way off, or if you realize you were right at the time but now things are different, or you are, and you need a change. That’s all fine. But don’t do something that you know you don’t care about just because it’s expedient. I’m not saying you shouldn’t take the work you can get to keep food on the table and a roof over your head while you work towards your goals or figure out what they are. I’m saying don’t settle for the thing that’s peripheral to what’s right for you and call it close enough. Because you’ll probably be wasting other people’s time, and certainly your own.