How I Got My Agent: Mary DeMuth

“How I Got My Agent” is a new recurring feature on the GLA blog. I find it fascinating to see the exact road people took that landed them with a rep.  Seeing the things people did right vs. what they did wrong (highs and the lows) can help other scribes who are on the same journey.  Some tales are of long roads and many setbacks, while others are of good luck and quick signings.

To see the previous installments of this column, click here.If you have a literary agent and would be interested in writing a short guest column for this GLA blog, e-mail me at and we’ll talk specifics.

This installment of “How I Got
My Agent” is by
Mary DeMuth, who
has written three parenting books and
four novels. Her latest book is
A Slow Burn.
She helps aspiring writers seeking
publication at


I spent more than ten years writing in obscurity while my children were young. During that time, I created newsletters and short stories, always forcing deadlines on myself—and then meeting them early. When my youngest child started preschool, I dusted off my dream of writing a novel, completing it in four months. I also became a newspaper columnist and found success in writing for magazines. I attended a small, regional writers conference, then packed my bags for a major writing conference in the spring of 2003.

On the plane, my writing friend asked me what I hoped to accomplish there. I said something about finding a publisher. “Don’t you want an agent?” she asked. “Are they really that important?” I asked. She shook her head in disbelief, then explained why I needed one.

We arrived in the wooded hills above San Jose, eager and ready to knock ’em dead. I sent ahead the first three chapters, a synopsis and a query letter from my novel Crushing Stone to three publishing houses. I retrieved my manuscripts with shaking hands. I tore open the envelopes and let out a breath. All three expressed interest. I hollered. And yelled. After writing in obscurity for so many years, the publisher’s approval validated me.


I took the intermediate writing track taught by a big-name agent, the amazing Chip MacGregor, then with Alive Communications, now founder of MacGregor Literary. He said up front, “I am not looking for clients. I’m happy with my stable of authors.” So, when I met with him, I didn’t consider him as a possible agent prospect. I simply wanted to ask his advice. Chip was late for our meeting. I almost left. He came rushing in, apologizing. I told him I had some interest in my book and asked if he’d be willing to answer a few questions. He said sure. He asked for my proposal, and when I gave it to him, he said, “I’ve seen this before.”

I wanted to die. In wanting to be efficient, I not only sent my proposal to the people at the conference, as instructed, but I also I sent it to his agency, even though I didn’t quite know the purpose of an agent. At the conference, I found out his firm did not accept unsolicited manuscripts, particularly from unpublished authors like me. In that, I violated the don’t-send-your-stuff-if-you’re-a-nobody rule. The reason he recognized it? My unusual stationary—not scented or colored, but it sported a curve on the right hand side. “Do you mind if I take this with me?” he asked. “Not at all,” I said. We shook hands and parted ways.


I came home from the conference happy to know editors liked my writing, but discouraged to not have immediate interest. A few weeks later, I received an e-mail from Chip. He wrote, “You are one of the best new writers I’ve met and I’d like to talk about representation. Would you be interested?”

Would I?

I screamed. Hyperventilated a bit. I hollered some more. The children thought I was dying, so they raced upstairs, followed by my husband. I jumped up and down. Though they didn’t know the reasons behind my pogo-ing, they joined me. Eventually I spilled out the e-mail’s words. So, I received the email that supercharged my career, pulling me from obscurity onto the publication path. Within six months, I sold two books to major publishers!


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