Hello. I'm new to this forum. Unfortunately, I know Mark Straley. He tried to convince me to sign on with Writers in the Sky. The web site is down. Mark is not answering calls, nor responding to e-mail. Another friend received the following e-mail from Gary, basically blaming Mark Straley for everything, and it was forwarded to me at my work e-mail, which is the e-mail used for this forum.
Hello to everyone in the Writers In The Sky Family,
Dreams.
They come in all shapes and sizes. Big to small; black & white to color; adventure to romance (or, for me, science fiction); multi-national corporations to mom & pop literary agencies. It’s about this latter dream that I’m writing to you today.
My dream was to be an editor working with great authors on many great manuscripts. Thank you for letting me live out that dream. It has been an honor and (mostly) a pleasure. I take great pride in the work we’ve done together to produce some outstanding books. I only wish I could have done more. But that will remain just a wish for the time being, because my dream has died.
Mark Straley has closed Writers In The Sky Literary Agency.
For some of you, this probably comes as no surprise. Mark has been dodging phone calls and emails for months, and recently stopped paying the fee for the company website. He made grandiose promises to everyone (in lieu of pay) to keep us working for him, but refused to put out any effort of his own. I have to admit I was naïve enough to believe his words, in spite of the evidence that he was deceiving me. So, for me, this news is a kick in the gut.
“I should have known,” I’ve been telling myself for the past few hours, since I learned that Mark closed the business without notice. The signs were there, I just didn’t want to believe them. Didn’t want them to be true. Unfortunately, they were.
Mark has always been a persuasive dreamer. That’s why I thought he would be good at being an agent. When you talk to him, he comes off as a likeable guy and a natural-born salesman. He has good ideas; he just doesn’t follow up on them. He sure sold me a bill of goods, as he did you and a lot of other good writers. Yes, I bought into the dream of starting up a literary agency, in the boondocks, with a group of people who had good intentions but little practical experience. When Mark asked me to take over the acquisitions and editing departments, I hesitated to do so. I knew it was a long shot to succeed, given what we had to work with. But I am a dreamer, too. I believed that, in spite of our limited resources, all we had to do to be successful was to produce quality manuscripts and the publishers would recognize our talent and buy our books. So I worked my butt off to provide those great manuscripts. Not every book we represented was great to begin with – many of them needed a lot of editing – but when we were done editing them, they were all publishable books. Every one. I’m proud of what we achieved artistically. But having a good product does not guarantee success in the competitive business of publishing. We’re proof of that. I regret only that I did not get my head out of the clouds sooner and provide you all with better direction.
I feel awful. I’ve let you down, and you deserve better. But no expression of regret, no matter how profound, makes up for the disappointment you and I are feeling right now. My only defense is that I was taken in, too. That, to me, sounds pretty lame, but I don’t know what else to tell you other than the truth.
Which is why I can’t continue on as an agent myself; I’m simply no good at bending the truth. I believe the only way to live is by telling the whole truth, warts and all, and I have spent my professional life turning down projects that were sub-standard as Art, even if they were “marketable,” instead choosing to spend my time working on projects I believed in, that I was passionate about, like yours. Unfortunately, the ability to spin the truth seems to be what it takes to be a good salesman, and it takes a good salesman to be a good agent. As Harry Mudd said (derogatorily) in a classic Star Trek episode, “You couldn’t sell fake patents to your own mother.” Like Spock, I can’t understand why anyone would try. And I refuse to waste any of your valuable time trying to do something I’m no good at.
I am an editor – a pretty good one, I think – even though posterity might never know that. My name may not go down alongside John Campbell or Harlan Ellison or [insert your favorite editor here], but I’ve decided it won’t be for lack of trying. I will continue to be an editor, in some fashion, in the future. What shape that future will take is still to be determined.
Speaking of which, if you know of an open job for a slightly used editor, I am now in the market and would appreciate any help. Also, I would be willing to serve as a reference for you, if you wish. In short, I am willing to assist in your future success in any way possible.
If you are interested in continuing a relationship with me as an editor, a reader, a fellow writer, anything other than an agent, I would love that. You’re a great writer and I still firmly believe that you will have a successful writing career. I’d love to be a small part of your success. But if you prefer to divorce me along with Mark and the rest of the WITS Family as a bad memory, I’ll understand. I don’t want to impose myself on anyone who doesn’t want me. So, if I don’t get a reply back from you after this email, you won’t hear from me again.
Needless to say, perhaps (but I’m saying it anyway to be safe), you are released from your contract with Writers In The Sky Literary Agency. I don’t know if Mark will be sending letters out to officially acknowledge this fact – I suspect he won’t, since he hasn’t done much of anything he promised to – but it is true, nonetheless.
Where you go from here is entirely up to you. I believe in you. I know your future books will be great, also. I wish you all the happiness and success you so scrupulously deserve.