Last week marked the end of an era for me.
After nearly 7 years of working together, I made the tough decision to part ways with my literary agent.
He had been in my corner since my dreams were just that—dreams. My career, now soaring higher than I ever imagined, owes much to his guidance.
But as time passed, our creative alchemy began to fade, and our paths diverged.
So I did something that my former self wouldn’t have dared—I parted ways with him without the safety net of another agent waiting for me in the wings. I wanted to make sure my decision wasn’t about impulsively leaping into someone else’s arms. It was about honoring our divergent paths—feeling gratitude for what we built in the past and also recognizing it was time to say goodbye.
The typical playbook screams against such moves. “Secure a new agent first! Don’t leave without a safety net!”
This advice, dressed up as pragmatism and common sense, is actually just fear—a fear that whispers doubts about our own abilities. And for me, following this advice would have been an act of self-distrust—an admission that I lacked the ability to find another agent who resonated with my vision.
After all, in romantic relationships, when the bond fades, we don’t stick around waiting for someone new to appear before moving on. Why should professional partnerships be any different?
This shift in approach has taught me two things.
First, our comfort zones are where dreams go to collect dust. Sometimes, you need to let go of the trapeze and trust that you’ll either find a new bar to grasp or grow wings on the way down.
Second, intuition is the best GPS you’ve got. It’s that subtle tug in your gut that guides you, even when the destination isn’t mapped out.
As I navigate this new terrain, and have conversations with potential agents, my criteria have evolved. Gone is my sole emphasis on accolades and achievements. Now, a new question is guiding me that’s based not just on what they’ve done, but how they make me feel: Does this person get me? Do I sense a champion in them? Do they believe in the story I’m eager to tell as much as I do?
In the end, it’s not just about finding someone to hold your hand. It’s about finding someone who matches your stride and encourages you to run faster, dream bigger, and leap farther.
So here I am—untethered but strangely at peace.
And it’s thrilling, this not knowing, this trusting in the process and in the pull of my own narrative.
Yes, fear occasionally screams in my ear—You’ve made a HUGE mistake!—but I know the universe has bigger plans than my fears allow me to see.
After all, it’s the seemingly precarious leaps that often lead to the most exhilarating flights.
And yes, I’ll fall on my face from time to time, but as Rudy Francisco writes, the ground has taught me more about flight than the sky ever could.
P.S. If you’re a literary agent reading this email, and you’ve felt creative synergy with my work, I’d love to hear from you. Send me an email and let me know. Some of my most fruitful partnerships have emerged from within my own audience.
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