Some literary agents “close” submissions periodically. That is, they announce that they won’t accept or respond to “over-the-transom” queries or proposals for a set period (usually a month or two, sometimes a quarter). For you young whippersnappers who don’t know what “over-the-transom” (or “whippersnapper”) means, it’s a throwback to the days before air conditioning, when offices were vented and lit by a window over the door; a ”transom” is the crosspiece separating the door from that window, through which aspiring writers sometimes slipped their proposals or manuscripts when the office was closed. The phrase “over-the-transom” has continued to be used by old-timers like me to refer generally to unsolicited submissions. Honestly, I’m not the only one. At least, I hope not. That would be depressing.
So, back to my point. I’m pretty sure I had one. Oh yeah, I was talking about literary agents who occasionally “close” the door (or transom, if you prefer) on submissions. I don’t do that.
Why, you might ask.
I can think of ten reasons:
- Since a shockingly low percentage of writers who submit to me have read this agency’s submissions guidelines (let alone follow the free advice on this blog), announcing that I have “closed” submissions for a while would surely have minimal effect.
- Similarly, considering the shockingly low percentage of submitting writers who have read this agency’s submissions guidelines or the free advice on this blog, announcing that I have “closed” submissions for a period would be followed only by those who do pay attention, which doesn’t seem fair.
- Though I decline 95% or more of email submissions I receive, hope springs eternal that lightning may strike. Not to mention other tried-and-true cliches.
- “Over the transom” submissions regularly produce smiles and laughter (some of which the writer even intended).
- My assistant needs the work.
- I try to respond to submissions fairly expeditiously, but a delay of a month or two in my response time (without “closing” submissions) won’t expose me to industry insiders’ ridicule.
- An announcement that “I’ll be closing submissions for the rest of 2022” might light a fire under some writers, but it could also spur some to a hurried product that doesn’t put their best foot forward. And each of us has only one chance to make a good first impression, so I urge careful and thorough completion of a proposal, rather than a hurried attempt to get it in before the window closes, so to speak.
- If I closed submissions, I may miss out on a particularly timely (or specifically-what-I’ve-been-looking-for) submission.
- While the best way to introduce yourself to me is to meet me at one of the six or so writers conferences I attend each year, email submissions accommodate writers who can’t do that—or can’t do that this year, say.
- The biggest book contract (monetarily) I’ve so far negotiated for a client came “over the transom.”
That’s why. Aren’t you glad you asked? I hope so. But even if the above is more (or different) information than you needed, I hope it sheds some light on an agent’s life and processes. At least for those of us who are old enough to know what a transom (or “whippersnapper”) is.
Grammar Refresh
Naw…the transom’s the stern of a rowboat.
The agent fished the swamp by night
for serendipitous catch,
and then fell sound did soul affright,
a quiet wetly splash
as over transom’s edge it came,
then squelched along the thwarts,
a terror with no spoken name;
a travesty of arts!
It reached the feet he tried to raise,
and into lap it steaming plopped.
No single word, let alone phrase
came from heart so nearly stopped,
but then he read, and read some more…
“This may be what I’m looking for!”
🤣😂😂😂
I’m so glad you enjoyed this, Margo!
Laughter emojis to both, Bob and Andrew. Love your writing!
And my Granny’s house had transoms, but I’ve only read the word “whippersnapper” or heard it in old Gabby Hayes Westerns, FWIW. 😊 And I won’t quote Granny, who could be rather salty, although when she said, “Bless your heart,” she meant it.
Did I digress?
I knew what a transom window was, but I didn’t know it’s purpose. Thanks for shedding some light on that, Bob—and I especially like the second reason number 1.
The first reason on the list, number 10, made me laugh out loud. Great post, thank you Bob! How do we find out what conferences you and the other agents are going to?
Thank you for this kind practice. Its tough enough for new/ aspiring authors most of who had faced many rejections! Its comforting to know you are different. Another Old timer, Mo
Thank you for your insightful writing.
Posting so you know I read your stuff. Also, I’m thinking transom submissions sound much like proposals slipped under bathroom stalls at writers’ conferences.
I laughed all the way through this post. Thank you, Mr. Hostetler!
Nice to hear from you sir
Great post! I enjoyed it. Thank you!
I learned a new word today. 🙂 I always wondered why older building had windows about the doors. Thank you for answering one of my long-standing questions!
I would love to see a literary agent actually procure a space in an old office building so that we writers could then dress up like we were extras in a Humphrey Bogart movie and toss our giant piles of paper over the transom!!! You should look into this, Bob!
Thanks for this, Mr. Hostetler! For your policy, the ten reasons behind it, and for your delightful way of expressing it/them : )
Bob, there is a true story involving a transom in a hole-in-the-wall hotel room we once rented. We were foolish enough to take our honeymoon on the fourth of July weekend of our country’s bicentennial year. My husband didn’t think we needed to make reservations. Long story short, we had to settle for a rundown 1940-style hotel in a one-horse town. It looked like a set from an old western movie: faded, ripped carpet on the stairs, an old elevator with iron bars around it. The elderly man at the desk led us to our room and unlocked our door with a huge key fob like sheriffs used in jails in the 1800s. The only available room had a twin-size bed, and everyone on the floor used the same dirty bathroom. The transom over the door refused to close and amplified the drunken partygoers staggering down the hall. Thinking about transoms gives me the willies unless I chuckle about the whole crazy episode.
Thank you for not closing submissions, Bob. I hope to get my first novel to you soon, but I want to get one more reader’s opinion first. Hope does spring eternal.
I’m eternally thankful for this, really.