My Nonsensical Path to Agenting by Lane Heymont

Please note this has not been edited for length and clarity since I tend to ramble and am more used to asking questions than “being asked.”

I recently did a podcast interview in which the host asked how I came to agenting. My explanation came out gargled and nonsensical because my journey was gargled and nonsensical.

Most agents I know always wanted to be writers or work in the publishing industry. They studied some form of that in college — publishing, English lit, etc. —, found internships, and progressed on a linear tract.

However, mine, as Cheryl Crow says, was a “winding road.”

Cliché here but I did always want to be a writer. In elementary and middle school, teachers so loved my writing they sent me off to college-level workshops. Being a sixth grader with a bunch of adults felt awesome!

More on that later.

In high school, I lived the college experience. Particularly senior year.

When I graduated high school, I enrolled at an out-of-state school, arrived for orientation, and dropped out that same day.

I had already lived the college experience and seeing what the dorms were like, I was out of there.

Throughout high school my advisor told me not to go to college, I was better suited to being a mechanic or janitor.

My technical skills are garbage and I’m a slob.

Though, I did enter the workforce right after my first got at a state school.

Medical Coding. Yay!

Throughout this time, I continued writing – nothing special really.

I then enrolled in a community college. I took random courses because they did not actually have a program I wanted — courses like art (I painted!), history, etc.

Eventually, I dropped out of that school too.

The thing to understand is I kept returning to school because in my family EVERYONE goes to college. If you don’t, you end up buried in the backyard.

One of my cousins dropped out of college her last semester and claimed she graduated. It is one of many bruises on our family.

I worked more – medical coding, YAY!

All the while still writing.

Eventually, and because if I didn’t go back to school, I would end up buried in the backyard, I enrolled at a private four-year school.

I’m one of the naive who tried to work full time and attend school full time.

To say I struggled is an understatement.

It took me about six years to graduate during which I routinely changed my major.

Again, all I wanted to do was write and my grandfather demanded I attain at least a business degree. “At least” being the key words here.

First, I majored in business but convinced him I hated it. He only agreed to let me change my major because I had enough courses under my belt to attain a minor.

I then switched to psychology because I wanted — I thought at this time — to be a substance abuse counselor (family issues, etc.).

Hold on because THEN I discovered my school had a creative writing major! Awesome!

So, I switched to creative writing, except guess what, the next semester they turned it into a MINOR. 

By this time, most of my credits were in psychology and I was nearing graduation — entering senior year, I believe. 

Keep in mind, I’m racing to graduation before my grandfather passes so he can see me walk across that stage. 

While working full time.

While in a tumultuous relationship.

Come to find out to get my degree in psychology I need one course that they are not teaching for another YEAR or so. 

My advisor — I feel horrible I don’t remember her name — was an amazing human being who had her own struggles due to cerebral palsy and substance abuse. 

I would not have graduated without her. Period. 

She went to bat to try to get the administration to budge on alternative courses, but they wouldn’t.

SO, I switched my major to Liberal Arts — I believe? — because I did not have enough credits to attain a major in any other field. 

Keep in mind, I’m racing against the natural world as my grandfather ages (in his 90s now). 

Hate to say, I never really knew what major I graduated with and frankly it didn’t matter to me as long as I graduated. 

I also lost my degree the day I received, and I’ll be damned that after spending $100k+ on this school am I going to give them another $50 for a replacement degree. 

Especially since, in my family, a college degree is the bare minimum. How many 40-year-olds still have their high school diploma laying around?

I sure don’t.

Luckily, I graduated in time for my grandfather to celebrate with me but not in time for him to see me walk across that stage.

A major regret in my life.

I was writing THE book throughout college. I wanted to get it published because my grandfather said I couldn’t.

I ended up getting it published before he passed but with a small press and it was a book that I had no right to write. Luckily, it has vanished into the ether.

My grandfather hated the book but at least he knew I had finished and had it published.

On my path to publication is where I was truly introduced to the industry — agents and all — but could not break in for YEARS.

So, in 2009 I enrolled in graduate school for substance abuse counseling as my fallback.

Took a semester before realizing I hated it — all chemistry, which I barely passed in undergrad with a D-. So, I left that program too.

Bright idea was to get an English Literature / Creative Writing MFA to “get a leg up” in the industry.

So, I enrolled in a prestigious master’s program at a prestigious school.

At this time, I also discovered Twitter and followed publishing twitter.

In 2010 (11, maybe 2012?) I saw a tweet for an agency seeking interns/readers and thought HEY, THAT’S MY IN so I applied. 

And I GOT IT! 

I will forever be indebted to Marisa Cleveland and Nicole Resciniti who are both my superheroes for giving me a chance!

Meanwhile back in grad school, my advisor learns I made my way up to Literary Assistant and says to drop out because I already have a place in the industry. He asks, “Why bother stay and spend the money when you have a job in the industry?”

Look at this school, man! The degree! The knowledge! The alumni association!

At his prodding I foolishly leave before my last semester and focus full time on agenting — after realizing I’m a HORRIBLE writer who should never have been published!

Do I regret leaving without that degree? Yeah, sure. Do I wish I had the degree? Yeah, sure.

Would the degree help my career? Honestly, I don’t think so, especially since I’m not in the corporate 9-5 world. Sure, it would then. Maybe even now?

Would it impress people? Yeah, sure, but that’s not the point of a degree.

Anyway, that’s my journey to agenting.

Told you it was a meandering mess of nonsense.