Matchmakers of Creativity--The Literary Agents

Literary agents are well established in Europe and the US. There, nearly 90% of all authors negotiate with publishers via agents who also handle many other aspects of their business affairs. That's not yet the case in Taiwan, though their influence is growing here too. Wanwan, Ethan and Sam Woo all used MSN to draw attention to their work, and have all now turned to professional agents to manage their work and brands with an eye to developing new business opportunities.

Literary agents are on the march in Taiwan, but what does this profession really do? Why do agents and the artists they represent have such a love-hate relationship? What niche will Taiwan's developing literary representation industry find in mainland China's 1.3-billion-person market, and what challenges will it face there?

The third annual Chinese-Language Blog Awards got underway the weekend before Christmas 2007. Perhaps the most celebrated (and photographed) blogger in attendance was Wanwan (Hu Chia-wei), whose blog has clocked more than 100 million views. But Wanwan's fame extends beyond the Internet. Her first book, I Hate to Work, But Enjoying My Life, published in late 2005, sold out its first print run of 120,000 volumes in just two weeks. Those sales, together with dozens of stationery products and knickknacks based on her work, have been a rare bright spot for Taiwan's struggling publishing industry.

Wanwan has built her success largely on hard work and on stories of everyday people related in an appealing comic-strip style. But these two elements aren't the whole of the story. "We really have to thank her agent, Ray Huang," says her mother. "He gave Wanwan many suggestions and much assistance during the creative process and during the marketing of the first book."

Giddens (real name Ko Ching-teng) has published 43 works in the seven years since his first book came out. As hardworking as Giddens is, his agent has also played an important role in his success. His Red Thread of True Love, for example, originally sold poorly. But sales increased more than twentyfold when his agent repackaged it with a new cover.

Purple Rock

Literary agencies have traveled a long and difficult road to get to where they are today in Taiwan.

Author Chang Man-chuan established her Purple Rock agency in July 1996 with the express purpose of creating a bridge between young authors and publishers. Chang saw new writers of limited means having a hard time breaking into the literary market and wanted to help.

Chang realized her goal in 1999 when Purple Rock and Rye Field Publishing developed "Rye Field New Age," a series that featured the first short-story collections of two award-winning young writers: Zhang Weizhong's Just Call Me Red Tab Boy and Eric Sun's The Stars Amusement Park. Literary agents began to solidify their foothold in the Taiwanese market place in 2000, when the establishment of Jimmy S.P.A. pushed the popular illustrator Jimmy into the international limelight. These successes attracted young people to the field of literary representation in droves.

However, though agents now manage the affairs of more than 90% of the authors in the US and Europe, their status in Taiwanese publishing remains somewhat unclear.

"The publishing business in Taiwan is very straightforward, very primitive," says Amy Tseng, editor-in-chief of Sun Color Culture Publishing. "Artists' business affairs are largely jointly handled by editors and planners working for their publishers. Writers have no need for agents." But Tseng also admits that Taiwanese publishers are intrigued by this new trend towards the use of agents.

Since beginning life as a simple MSN image, Onion Tou has given rise to an enormous array of related products.

A right-hand man

"In Taiwan, the situation for million-selling authors and unknowns has always been the same," says Zhang Weizhong. "They have always handled almost everything pertaining to the publication of their work themselves: they produce it; they pitch it themselves to publishers; they promote themselves in the media; they find people to shoot something for TV...." Zhang, who had won every major Taiwanese literary prize by the age of 19, published his first novel at 20, and now works as an editor at a publishing house, says that this was why he chose to be represented by Purple Rock.

"I'm the kind of person who can't say no," says Giddens, whose work appears both in print and online. "Sometimes the media schedules an interview at a bad time, or I lose my cool when fans get too excited at a book signing. That's when you need an agent to step in." Giddens, who is currently represented by Comic Ritz International Productions, has published 14 books in 14 months and brags that he is the best storyteller in the Chinese language. He explains that a professional agent handles everything, whereas a publisher only helps you while you're actually putting the book together.

"I'm a low-key kind of guy," says Ethan. "I don't really like the public side of things. With an agent running things for me, I need only concern myself with my creative work." Ethan got his start as a blogger-artist on the MSN network. On the phone, he says shyly that his agent's assistance allows him to focus on his work without being pulled in different directions by cultural and commercial considerations.

Well established in Europe and the US, literary agents are now setting up shop in Taiwan. But serious literature is a hard sell. Agents here are getting their feet wet by representing writers of comics and online media. However, the formula for success is something both agents and writers are trying to figure out.

Publishing wars

The insertion of agents into what had been a bilateral relationship between authors and publishers also reflects the growing complexity of publishing in an ever more diverse society. There are more issues to consider than ever before: Can the book become a bestseller? Can its release be coordinated with other activities, audio-visual materials, or product tie-ins? Putting together these kinds of campaigns often takes more time and effort than writing the book itself. These days, producing a book is a team effort in every sense, and the writer's agent is deeply involved at every step.

"Many writers don't have a deep understanding of copyrights," says Amy Chan, the founder of Full Tone Image and Ethan's agent. "But many, many problems crop up in the area, including issues related to adaptation rights for advertising, film, and television, and the extension of copyrights to product tie-ins." Full Tone was able to help Ethan achieve success in the Greater China region because it had the experience and expertise to overcome the quasi-nationalism of the Chinese icon and cartoon market. In fact, Ethan's character, Onion Tou, served as the mascot for the 2007 Guangzhou Cartoon and Animation Festival.

In Europe and the US, it's virtually impossible for authors to find a publisher without the help of an agent. William Breit and Kenneth G. Elzinga, authors of Murder at the Margin, and British management guru Charles Handy all had their first books rejected because the publishers didn't accept unsolicited manuscripts.

The publishers' position isn't all that unreasonable when you consider how many manuscripts are produced every year. According to The Making of a Bestseller, which analyzes how writers, agents, critics, publishers and distributors work together to move readers, agents in the US receive an average of about 90 submissions per week, but take on an average of only 11 new clients per year. In other words, only about two out of every 1,000 writers gets an agent.

Would-be writers struggle with the question of how to gain the attention of agents and publishing houses drowning in their slush piles. Published writers with chronically lackluster sales, on the other hand, must hope their agents can win them another shot at creating a hit.

Dan Brown, author of the smash hit The Da Vinci Code, admits that his agent Heide Lange has been his "angel." (In fact, he points out that Lange is an anagram for angel.) In addition to allowing him to focus on his writing by negotiating contracts and dealing with the media on his behalf, Lange was instrumental in persuading Brown's publisher of his talent in spite of the weak sales of the three novels he wrote prior to The Da Vinci Code.

Gatekeepers

An agent is an author's most important collaborator. They negotiate prices for their work, ensure that publishers properly edit and assemble those works, and protect writers' contractual rights. In Europe and the US, well regarded agents may also end up acting as their authors' mentors. After all, agents are very familiar with market trends, and can provide story ideas, plan works, and give valuable feedback on drafts.

Ethan's agent, Amy Chan, was also an artist-she studied commercial design and worked for famed Hong Kong comic artist Tony Wong for a time. Chan recalls that Ethan's Onion Tou began as just an image. But an image by itself can't conquer the market; Onion Tou needed a narrative. Chan argues that it required vision to turn Onion Tou into a book.

Used to working in a single-panel comic format, Ethan needed help from both his agent and a professional writer. They offered a number of suggestions: Noting that Onion Tou was a high-school student, they mentioned that Ethan might want to give him a love interest. They also suggested he might add a little youthful melancholy, but recommended against pushing it to the point of absurdity.

Agents must be jacks-of-all-trades, comfortable with the creative process, legal matters, and public relations. It is challenging work. "Having previously worked for a publisher and knowing how to get on an editor's good side is definitely a plus for an agent," says Chang Sheng-feng, a senior editor with Business Weekly Publications, a division of Cite Publishing. In fact, many successful agents got their start working in fields related to publishing.

Ray Huang has worked as a planner for a record label and an editor for a publishing house, and now heads Revolution-Star Publishing and Creation. He also served as editor on his company's first publication, Real Versus Ideal Days, which won the 2005 Golden Tripod for best book in the Life in the Arts category.

In 2005, a friend of Huang's happened to send him some of Wanwan's MSN images. Already a popular web presence, Wanwan's blog had at that point already received more than 1 million page views. Huang understood the appeal. He too enjoyed the simplicity of the images and the office-worker sensibility of the subject matter.

After spending more than six months checking out Wanwan's work, Huang developed a plan to publish and market her work, including derivative products. Though already courted by major publishers, Wanwan was impressed with Huang's pitch and drawn to the idea of working with an independent publisher like Revolution-Star. The two hit it off immediately and together created the tidal wave of interest in her work.

Wanwan has so far published three books, each of which has sold in excess of 100,000 volumes.

Bloodsuckers?

Authors and agents are at least nominally on the same side, but do agents treat authors as a means to turn a quick buck, or do they nurture long-term relationships? There's a world of difference between the two approaches.

"Anyone who says there aren't conflicts is lying," says Huang. He recalls one instance in which he and Wanwan blew an hour on MSN discussing whether she would appear on a variety show. Wanwan finally told him, "I'm not a performer!" and rejected the invitation.

Wanwan didn't want exposure. She had hoped to remain a mysterious, low-key blog writer and to let her work speak for her. But having had a little taste of celebrity, she now admits it has its good points. Readers want more than just an author's work; they also want to know what kind of person the writer is. When writers can bridge the distance between themselves and their readers, and become the "in" writer of the moment, there are more opportunities to develop product tie-ins. This kind of relationship also helps their book sales. Wanwan has now published three books, each of which has sold more than 100,000 copies. As a result, she has been able to build business relationships with the Family Mart convenience store chain, Proctor and Gamble, Taiwan Mobile, and 3M.

Authors and their agents may also have differing views about a book's content. "These different perspectives on what to include can lead to disagreements," says Wanwan. For example, she felt that a scene in which some low-level office workers "resisted" their boss was funny. Huang, on the other hand, thought the tone shifted too abruptly and worried readers would miss the joke. Clearly, there is an art to bringing the flitting thoughts of an author back down to earth and packaging them in an attractive, easily understood manner.

Ethan and his agent butted heads over a different issue: her approach to his work. "Amy thought that my page-a-day pace was too slow," says Ethan, "and that the lines I used to draw my characters weren't clear and strong enough. I know she tells me these things for my benefit, and that I could be replaced at any time by any one of mainland China's teeming masses of artist-writers. But I just can't work any faster." Ethan says that he's used to thinking about the relationship between a character's actions and the next scene before he begins drawing. Once he has the whole structure worked out, he cranks out the panel.

Giddens (real name Ko Ching-teng) has published 43 works in the seven years since his first book came out. As hardworking as Giddens is, his agent has also played an important role in his success. His Red Thread of True Love, for example, originally sold poorly. But sales increased more than twentyfold when his agent repackaged it with a new cover.

The nitty gritty

Agents and their clients don't just battle side by side. They can also go head to head over the contract delineating the division of profits and losses. A reasonable contract should guarantee an artist entry into the limelight. An unreasonable one is more akin to an indenture that allows the agent to leech from rather than promote the artist.

Huang recommends that where there are concerns that unforeseeable variables may arise in the partnership, the artist and agent can include appropriate mechanisms for ending their relationship. When such provisions are included in contracts, artists feel less under the thumb of their agents. These mechanisms also give artists potential recourse against agents who simply sit on work to which they have acquired the rights.

Money is always difficult to talk about, but it is an issue that has to be faced. Generally speaking, independent agents don't receive a salary or charge hourly rates. Instead, they receive commissions. In Europe and the US, the standard commission for representing a book is 15% of the author's advance and any other income from the book. If the publisher rejects the book or, after accepting the book, decides not to publish it, the agent receives nothing.

"In Taiwan, there are agreements to represent works (which are limited to print or audio-visual works), professional cooperation agreements (wherein the two sides have a principal-agent relationship), and comprehensive representation agreements (which also cover lectures, advertising/spokesperson deals, and rights for related products). Under comprehensive representation agreements, artists and agents usually split revenues 60/40 or 50/50," explains Chan. "Such agreements usually have five-year terms. This protects the rights of both parties, facilitates long-term planning, discourages agents from abandoning artists, and prevents artists from dumping their agents the moment they become famous."

Typically, agents rely on their artists to get by, living off of their commissions. Unfortunately, many artists make very little. Only about one out of every 100 manuscripts accepted by major US publishers is actually released and successful in the marketplace. Even fewer sell well enough to earn royalties for their authors. In this kind of buyers' market, creative works aren't worth much and unknown authors have little bargaining power.

The situation in Taiwan is much the same. Publishers pay unknown writers NT$50-80,000 for all rights to their first book. That's before taxes. Even an author such as Giddens, who writes quickly, needs three months to produce an 80,000-word book. A hypothetical new writer who was equally fast and received NT$50,000 for a first book of that length wouldn't have made even the minimum wage of NT$17,280 per month for those three months.

"It's very difficult to make a middle-class living as a writer," says Giddens, whose work regularly appears on Taiwan's bestsellers list. And if an artist isn't making much, neither is the artist's agent. Individual agents may have trouble making ends meet, and larger agencies may even go under.

In 2005, the ongoing contraction of the publishing market led to the quiet closure of Taiwan's number-one literary agency, the nearly ten-year-old Purple Rock. Taiwan's publishing market is so small (it is worth only about NT$30 billion per year) and its subject matter so limited that even a popular book by a local writer is lucky to sell more than 50,000 copies. Such numbers don't even begin to compare to more than NT$500 billion the Harry Potter franchise has generated worldwide since 1997, or the million-plus volumes The Da Vinci Code has sold. These harsh realities severely limit the outlook for literary representation in Taiwan.

Since beginning life as a simple MSN image, Onion Tou has given rise to an enormous array of related products.

Publishers getting involved

Individual agents and small agencies have few resources to draw on, which limits their prospects. Publishers, on the other hand, have the resources to grow their own in-house agencies.

Benson Chang, president of Sun Color Culture, believes that the outlook for literary representation is bright and therefore plans to have his company establish a representation department this spring. Hong Kong's Cite Publishing, the largest publisher in Taiwan, did just that in 2005.

Cite's Chang Sheng-feng says that Taiwanese authors are widely published and widely pirated in mainland China. While many "rights brokers" have appeared that take commissions for dealing with rights issues for Taiwanese authors, these brokers have virtually no contact with the writers and don't properly attend to the details of the deals. As a result, they end up creating endless disputes. Chang mentions online writer Hiyawu as an example. Hiyawu has published nine books and sold more than 1 million volumes in Taiwan. However, he has yet to receive even his advance for the novel he published in China last year.

"Cite Publishing's Business Weekly Publications has therefore established an agency to help our writers deal with rights issues in the Greater China region," says Chang. "The agency's functions differ from those of the rights division, which primarily acquires rights to translated editions of foreign works."

In this sense, Cite's efforts are groundbreaking. "Taiwan's publishers are used to acquiring rights to books from abroad, but are very passive about selling rights to Taiwanese authors' work abroad," explains Sun Color's Tseng.

"Images travel more easily across national borders," says Chang, "and are therefore an easier business to develop. Textual works, on the other hand, face linguistic and cultural hurdles. Moreover, the work of Taiwanese authors tends to be limited in scope and in subject matter. It consists largely of romance and stories of young people at school, which makes it hard to sell to the global market. As a result, there's little need for international representation." Chang stresses that agencies in Taiwan have more opportunities with picture books than they do with the written word. That's why there has been so much interest in representing Wanwan, Ethan and Jimmy.

Giddens (real name Ko Ching-teng) has published 43 works in the seven years since his first book came out. As hardworking as Giddens is, his agent has also played an important role in his success. His Red Thread of True Love, for example, originally sold poorly. But sales increased more than twentyfold when his agent repackaged it with a new cover.

The global stage

But China has designated 2008 the Year of the Agent and is preparing to promote its own representation industry in a big way. Where can Taiwan's publishing industry, already in recession, find a niche?

"Should we make Taiwan our marketplace, or look outward to the whole Chinese-language market?" asks Angie Chai, president of Comic Ritz. "Our answer will determine how much demand there is for agents' services." Chai, a noted television producer who was named one of Asia's star innovators by Business Week in 2002, says that her greatest hope is that one of Giddens' novels will be adapted into a movie like Infernal Affairs, and perhaps even sold to Hollywood.

"From the outset, our vision has been to go beyond Taiwan, to tackle the whole Chinese-language market and move onto the global stage," says Chai. She cites the "Jimmy phenomenon" as an example of what she's hoping to achieve. Jimmy, a Taiwanese illustrator who appeared on the Discovery Channel's "Portraits Taiwan" program in 2007, has had his work adapted for the stage, the big screen, the small screen, and cartoons. Jimmy's work has also been licensed for figurines and other products.

What has everyone worried is the question of whether the transition to agents and agencies will commodify literature. Chen Ying-ching, head of Owl Publishing House and an industry old-timer, offers his own blunt assessment: "Publishing is a commercial endeavor." Books are, by their nature, commodities. The ultimate objective of every productive activity is to successfully sell the product. The creative fields are no different.

Just as long rivers need more bridges to link their shores than short rivers, a liberalized publishing market requires greater numbers of agents to connect writers and publishers. Agents foster growth in publishing and lead to a more cultured society.

Success came quickly to Wanwan. She is now among of the very few cartoonists able to make a living from sales of derivative products.

Since beginning life as a simple MSN image, Onion Tou has given rise to an enormous array of related products.

Well established in Europe and the US, literary agents are now setting up shop in Taiwan. But serious literature is a hard sell. Agents here are getting their feet wet by representing writers of comics and online media. However, the formula for success is something both agents and writers are trying to figure out.

(above and below) The publishing industry is undergoing rapid change the world over. The text used to be the "interface" between authors and readers. Now, however, most readers won't seek out a book unless they've first fallen in love with the film or TV adaptation. Ang Lee's films Brokeback Mountain and Lust, Caution are cases in point.

Giddens (real name Ko Ching-teng) has published 43 works in the seven years since his first book came out. As hardworking as Giddens is, his agent has also played an important role in his success. His Red Thread of True Love, for example, originally sold poorly. But sales increased more than twentyfold when his agent repackaged it with a new cover.

Giddens (real name Ko Ching-teng) has published 43 works in the seven years since his first book came out. As hardworking as Giddens is, his agent has also played an important role in his success. His Red Thread of True Love, for example, originally sold poorly. But sales increased more than twentyfold when his agent repackaged it with a new cover.

Wanwan has so far published three books, each of which has sold in excess of 100,000 volumes.

When first developing his Onion Tou character, cartoonist Ethan conceived of him as a happy-go-lucky kid who didn't want to be bothered about things. Readers can't help but get a kick out of his many facial expressions.

Success came quickly to Wanwan. She is now among of the very few cartoonists able to make a living from sales of derivative products.

Ray Huang won Wanwan over with his multi-pronged marketing plans, stealing her away from the large publishers who were wooing her. The two now have one of the industry's most admired partnerships.

With a few simple strokes of the pen, Wanwan vividly sketches the full gamut of office-worker experience.

Giddens (real name Ko Ching-teng) has published 43 works in the seven years since his first book came out. As hardworking as Giddens is, his agent has also played an important role in his success. His Red Thread of True Love, for example, originally sold poorly. But sales increased more than twentyfold when his agent repackaged it with a new cover.

Since beginning life as a simple MSN image, Onion Tou has given rise to an enormous array of related products.

Wanwan has so far published three books, each of which has sold in excess of 100,000 volumes.

Giddens (real name Ko Ching-teng) has published 43 works in the seven years since his first book came out. As hardworking as Giddens is, his agent has also played an important role in his success. His Red Thread of True Love, for example, originally sold poorly. But sales increased more than twentyfold when his agent repackaged it with a new cover.

Television producer Angie Chai sees in Giddens someone in whom she wants to invest. But her interest isn't selling books, it's selling TV and film adaptation rights.

Giddens (real name Ko Ching-teng) has published 43 works in the seven years since his first book came out. As hardworking as Giddens is, his agent has also played an important role in his success. His Red Thread of True Love, for example, originally sold poorly. But sales increased more than twentyfold when his agent repackaged it with a new cover.

(above and below) The publishing industry is undergoing rapid change the world over. The text used to be the "interface" between authors and readers. Now, however, most readers won't seek out a book unless they've first fallen in love with the film or TV adaptation. Ang Lee's films Brokeback Mountain and Lust, Caution are cases in point.

Success came quickly to Wanwan. She is now among of the very few cartoonists able to make a living from sales of derivative products.

Giddens (real name Ko Ching-teng) has published 43 works in the seven years since his first book came out. As hardworking as Giddens is, his agent has also played an important role in his success. His Red Thread of True Love, for example, originally sold poorly. But sales increased more than twentyfold when his agent repackaged it with a new cover.

Since beginning life as a simple MSN image, Onion Tou has given rise to an enormous array of related products.

Since beginning life as a simple MSN image, Onion Tou has given rise to an enormous array of related products.

Giddens (real name Ko Ching-teng) has published 43 works in the seven years since his first book came out. As hardworking as Giddens is, his agent has also played an important role in his success. His Red Thread of True Love, for example, originally sold poorly. But sales increased more than twentyfold when his agent repackaged it with a new cover.

Giddens (real name Ko Ching-teng) has published 43 works in the seven years since his first book came out. As hardworking as Giddens is, his agent has also played an important role in his success. His Red Thread of True Love, for example, originally sold poorly. But sales increased more than twentyfold when his agent repackaged it with a new cover.

Well established in Europe and the US, literary agents are now setting up shop in Taiwan. But serious literature is a hard sell. Agents here are getting their feet wet by representing writers of comics and online media. However, the formula for success is something both agents and writers are trying to figure out.

Giddens' autograph, presented by him to Taiwan Panorama.

Success came quickly to Wanwan. She is now among of the very few cartoonists able to make a living from sales of derivative products.

The author of An Artist Who Plays with Dolls and a noted designer of figurines, Amy Chan has her on take on comics, figurines and fashion. That unique perspective enabled her to sell Onion Tou to the Chinese market.

The Taiwan-born-and-raised Onion Tou caught on in China late last year and was selected as the mascot for the 2007 Guangzhou Cartoon and Animation Festival.