Five agents at kt Literary seeking new authors

Most Likely by Sarah Watson
represented by kt Literary

Kt Literary

Highlands Ranch,

Denver, Colorado

https://ktliterary.com/

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kt literary is a full-service literary agency. It was founded by Kate Testerman in 2008 when she moved to Colorado after a dozen years working in publishing in New York City. There are eight agents at kt, several of whom are looking for authors:

Sara Megibow is a literary agent with kt literary out of Highlands Ranch, CO. She has worked in publishing since 2006 and represents New York Times bestsellers authors including Margaret Rogerson, Roni Loren, Jason M. Hough and Jaleigh Johnson. She specializes in launching debut authors and working on long-term career development and profit strategy with them. She is a graduate of Northwestern University with degrees in Women’s Studies, Gender Studies and American History. Always LGBTQ+ Friendly!

Sara seeks authors in middle grade, young adult, and adult romance, erotica, science fiction, and fantasy. See more details of what Sara is looking for here.

Query Sara at saraquery@ktliterary.com

Include the first three pages of your manuscript. In the subject line include the word “Query” along with the title of your manuscript. No attachments.

Hilary Harwell originally joined the kt literary team to support office operations and assist with queries and manuscripts, and now acts as Agent to a growing list of clients of her own. She graduated from the University of Colorado, Boulder, with a degree in Anthropology and went on to work in the back office of a major Swiss Investment Bank for eight years before deciding to trade numbers for letters. When not reading or editing or writing stories of her own, Hilary likes to hike the Rockies with her family and dreams of one day owning her own horses.

She Tweets here.

Hilary is seeking middle grade and young adult fiction.

Query Hilary at:  jasquery@ktliterary.com

Include the first three pages of your manuscript. In the subject line include the word “Query” along with the title of your manuscript. No attachments.

Chelsea Hensley was a freelance editor and perpetual publishing intern before joining kt literary. In 2018 she mentored in Pitch Wars and most recently was an editorial intern at Page Street Publishing where she assisted on titles from Addie Thorley and Breanna Shields. She has a BA in English from the University of Missouri and lives and works as a bookseller in St. Louis, MO.

Chelsea is seeking middle grade and young adult fiction as well as select Adult projects.  She likes fresh and imaginative SFF, dark and twisty mysteries/thrillers, and whip smart protagonists. She is interested in working with authors belonging to groups traditionally underrepresented in publishing, especially Black authors. When she isn’t working, she can be found playing Dungeons & Dragons, watching The Golden Girls, or playing with her dog. See more details of what Chelsea is looking for here.

She Tweets here.

Query Chelsea at: chelseaquery@ktliterary.com

Include the first three pages of your manuscript. In the subject line include the word “Query” along with the title of your manuscript. No attachments.

Jas Perry is a freelance editor and Manhattan-based associate agent with kt literary. She attended New York University in Florence and London before graduating with a degree in English from CUNY Hunter College. She was awarded the We Need Diverse Books Internship Grant and held several editorial intern positions with Levine Querido and Scholastic’s Arthur A. Levine Books, where she assisted on titles by Kelly Yang, Varian Johnson, Daniel José Older, Eric Gansworth, A.S. King, Francisco X Stork, and Cherie Priest, among others.

Jas is seeking middle grade and young adult fiction. She is Black American/Japanese and interested in representing a diverse range of strong voices — especially by disabled and/or QTPOC creators. She particularly enjoys dark contemporary fiction, offbeat humor, (Alondra Nelson-defined) Afrofuturism, and bold SFF that makes her think.

She Tweets here.

Query Jas at: jasquery@ktliterary.com

Include the first three pages of your manuscript. The subject line of your email should include the phrase “#OwnVoicesQuery” or “Underrepresented writer query” along with the title of your manuscript. No attachments.

Kelly Van Sant is the newest member of the team at kt. Until recently, she was an agent at Red Sofa Literary. {As to why she quit Red Sofa, see here}. Kelly is seeking young adult and middle grade fiction and, like everyone else, has a particular interest in projects by marginalized creators.

Query Kelly at: kellyquery@ktliterary.com

Include the first three pages of your manuscript. In the subject line include the word “Query” along with the title of your manuscript. No attachments.

Scholastic Books executive editor
Anne Shone

If you're interested in meeting an agent and in getting published, don't miss our upcoming How to Get Published workshops Saturday, Oct 3, in Toronto with Evan Brown of Transatlantic Literary Agency (see here) and Saturday, Oct 24, in Guelph with Paige Sisley of the CookeMcdermid agency  (see here).

And if you’re specifically interested in writing and publishing Kid Lit, don’t miss Writing for Children and for Young Adults, with Anne Shone, Executive Editor, Scholastic Books, Saturday, September 12, in Mississauga (see here) and the Writing Kid Lit weekly class this fall on Thursday evenings, online (see here).

Beyond that, Brian’s workshop schedule continues to take shape:

July

Southampton Art School: Head out to this lovely beach town on Lake Huron for two workshops: How to Build Your Story, Saturday, July 25 (see here) and  How to Write Great Characters, Sunday, July 26 (see here).

August

Online: "You can write great dialogue," Saturday, Aug 15.  Details here.

Online: How to Make Yourself Write," Saturday, Aug 22.  Details here.

 

Arowhon Pines Resort

August & September

Algonquin Park Writing Retreats: Join me for a magical weekend at Arowhon Pines Resort, an outpost of luxury in the middle of the wilderness, for a writing retreat. Two sessions: Thursday, July 9  – Sunday, July 12 (see here) and Friday, Aug 28 – Monday, Aug 31 (see here).

Mississauga: Writing for Children and for Young Adults with Anne Shone, Executive Editor, Scholastic Books, Saturday, September 12. Details here.

Fall Classes

Online: Welcome to Creative Writing, Thursday afternoons, Sept 24 – Dec 3. Details here.

Online: Writing Kid Lit, Thursday evenings, Sept 24 – Nov 26. Details here.

Burlington: Intensive Creative Writing, Tuesday mornings, Sept 15 – Dec 15.  Details here.

Online: Intensive Creative Writing, Wednesday evenings, Sept 16 to Dec 9, online – this  class is almost full. Details here.

Online: Intensive Creative Writing, Friday mornings. Sept 18 – Dec 4.   Details here.

See Brian’s complete current schedule here, including Saturday writing workshops, weekly writing classes, and weekend retreats in Algonquin Park, Alliston, Bolton, Barrie, Brampton, Burlington, Caledon, Collingwood, Georgetown, Georgina, Guelph, Hamilton, Jackson’s Point, Kitchener-Waterloo, London, Midland, Mississauga, New Tecumseth, Oakville, Ottawa, Peterborough, St. Catharines, Sudbury, Toronto, Windsor,  Woodstock, Halton, Muskoka, Peel, Simcoe, York Region, the GTA, Ontario and beyond.

  

Navigation tips: Always check out the Labels underneath a post; they’ll lead you to various distinct collections of postings. If you're searching for more interviews with literary agents or a literary agent who represents a particular type of book, check out this post.

Kerfuffle in the agenting world

During the period of protests and rioting that followed the police killing of George Floyd, the owner of Red Sofa Literary, Dawn Frederick, tweeted that she was phoning the police because people were looting a gas station by her house. All told rioters in the twin cities of Minneapolis–St. Paul torched, looted or vandalized 1,500 gas stations and bookstores, restaurants, homes, and other locations during rioting.

Remains of Uncle Hugo's, the oldest sci-fi bookstore in the U.S.
and its brother store, Uncle Edgar's Mystery Bookstore

Following Twitter attacks on Dawn, Kelly Van Sant, who was an agent at Red Sofa, tweeted that she’d quit the agency because her boss had phoned the police “on protesters in St Paul who were demonstrating to demand justice for George Floyd." Apparently, Kelly was unaware or uninterested in any distinction between looters and protesters. 

The Twitter mob hasn’t concerned itself with such fine distinctions either and continued to pursue Dawn, accusing her of racism. Calling the cops on looters is not a Woke thing to do. {More details here}

Two other agents at Red Sofa also tweeted their resignations. Amanda Rutter cited “racism” {apparently assuming the looters Dawn had reported to the police were Black} and Stacey Graham referred to “recent events.”

Dawn posted an explanation of these recent events and her actions on the Red Sofa website, then in an apparent attempt to placate the mob or possibly because she believes she did something wrong, Dawn posted an apology (both here). More recently, she’s threatened law suits.  

Kelly Van Sant has since joined kt Literary {see here}. Stacey Graham has joined 3 Seas Literary Agency. 

Dawn Fredericks is now closed to queries. Hopefully she and Red Sofa Literary will have only been wounded, not destroyed, by this instance of cancel culture. 

Update Aug 26, 2020: Good news! Dawn is once again open to queries, though the Red Sofa website has yet to be thoroughly updated. See here.

Online: How to Make Yourself Write ~ A Creativity Workout, Saturday, August 22

How to Make Yourself Write

A Creativity Workout

Saturday, August 22, 2020
1:00 – 4:30 p.m.
Online and accessible from wherever there's Internet
Note: We originally scheduled this workshop for June 22, then Aug 22 in St Catherines but after the library had to cancel a second time, we decided to take it online.

Let's get motivated! This workshop is designed to help you find the time and the inspiration to write. No more staring at a blank screen. Come to this workshop and give yourself a kick-start, and then learn how to keep going. This creativity workout will get your words flowing and help you make the breakthrough into the next level of writing.

Workshop leader Brian Henry has been a book editor and creative writing instructor for more than 25 years. He publishes Quick Brown Fox, Canada’s most popular blog for writers, teaches creative writing at Ryerson University, and has led workshops everywhere from Boston to Buffalo and from Sarnia to Charlottetown. But his proudest boast is that he has helped many of his students get their first book published and launch their careers as authors. 

See reviews of Brian's classes and workshops here.

This workshop will be offered on Zoom. Orientation provided, but you will need a computer, tablet or smartphone with a mic and, preferably, a camera {i.e. a webcam}. 

Fee: 37.17 + 13% hst = 42 Advance payment only. 

To reserve a spot now, email: brianhenry@sympatico.ca

See Brian’s complete schedule here, including writing workshops, weekly writing classes, and weekend retreats in, Bolton, Barrie, Brampton, Burlington, Caledon, Collingwood, Georgetown, Georgina, Guelph, Hamilton, Jackson’s Point, Kingston, Kitchener-Waterloo, London, Midland, Mississauga, Oakville, Ottawa, Peterborough, St. Catharines, Southampton, Sudbury, Toronto, Windsor, Woodstock, Halton, Muskoka, Peel, Simcoe, York Region, the GTA, Ontario and beyond.

“Lucky Penny” by Kaitlyn Moor

Lucky Penny

It was a lucky penny,

He so convincingly gifted me.

Copper still warm from its resting place against flesh,

It felt heavy in the soft spot of my palm.

It was the significance of the intention,

“You will be loved,”

That melted my heart.

The weight of it cascaded through me.

My smile was gracious; his was knowing.

“I will be loved,” I whispered.

Fingers curled around a token of hope,

Placed carefully in the pocket of my hip.

Luck or fate, I was ready.

Kaitlyn Moor is an artist, nature-lover, dreamer and corporate professional. Writing poetry and musings has been her private form of expression for years which she is nervously thrilled to start sharing with others for the first time.

See Brian Henry's schedule here, including writing workshops, weekly online writing classes, and weekend retreats in Alliston, Bolton, Barrie, Brampton, Burlington, Caledon, Collingwood, Georgetown, Georgina, Guelph, Hamilton, Jackson’s Point, Kingston, Kitchener-Waterloo, London, Midland, Mississauga, Oakville, Ottawa, Peterborough, St. Catharines, Southampton, Sudbury, Toronto, Windsor, Woodstock, Halton, Muskoka, Peel, Simcoe, York Region, the GTA, Ontario and beyond.

“Burned” by Janine Elias Joukema

It’s from behind the sunshine yellow wall in the good, upstairs kitchen, and through the spotless French glass door into the good, for-company-only living room that she watches. She watches as the mob of black-clothed mourners fuss and get settled and her father, already seated in the high-backed tufted chair, struggles to appear calm and steady-handed as he unties the tightly knotted black plastic garbage bag he carried into the room. 

She revels, just a little, in not being seen and in doing what she was told not to do.

Her father reveals a piece of clothing, a pair of white, once pure white, long underwear and displays them for the mourners. They’re the kind of underwear men wear under their pants to keep warm when working outside in the Canadian cold, but these are burned from inside the ankle, up the inside of the calves, up and between the thighs ending in an brown-edged arc where the burns meet in the middle, like the burned edges of new parchment paper pretending to be old and worn. 

The view through the beveled glass of the door duplicates the burns, over and over, like dark stormy waters slapping onto a shore of white sand. 

Her father lifts the underwear higher and moves clockwise until he reaches the end of the circle of mourners. They gawk and cry from the pristine blue velvet furniture they sit on, howling prayers and wrenching words of disbelief from trembling mouths, grieving like all Lebanese people grieve, loud and terror-stricken.  

After the underwear returns to its starting point, her father holds it even higher for just one moment longer, like a marathon runner hoists the winner’s trophy, with fatigue and disbelief and pride. Then, with steady hands, her father folds the underwear so that it looks whole and new and untouched, then puts it down tenderly by his feet.

She wonders if it’s right, if it’s dangerous for her father to touch and display the fragments of death in this way. Her uncle, alive just three days ago, now dead, electrocuted while working on a construction site. Wearing long underwear beneath his overalls, still uncomfortable with cool Canadian spring days. He was a nice man, worked hard like everyone else. No one special. Until now.

She wants to cry, not for her uncle, not for her aunt, not even for her little cousins, but for her own father.
Her father’s hands are now on a white, sleeveless undershirt.  Every man she knows wears that kind of undershirt. Hot summer days, cold beers, covered porches and fathers, and bothers and uncles and man-neighbours, in white sleeveless, sweat-stained undershirts. This one is different though. It is not sweat-stained, it is burned straight up the middle, a dark and singed arrow to the throat. 

As her father steadily moves the elevated shirt around the room more prayers are cried up to God. This time the black-clothed mob pleads for her uncle’s soul. 

“He made a mistake. One mistake. But he was a good man,” someone says. 

“Yes, a man who did the right thing. He went back to his wife, to his two children,” says another. 

“Why punish his soul? He was punished already on earth in this death.”

She did not understand what mistake her uncle had made.  She could only know, like every child somehow knows, that it must have been a very big and very bad mistake. So big and so bad that confession was not enough and saying ten Hail Marys and saying twenty Our Fathers was not enough and saying you’re sorry over and over again until your throat hurts and your eyes sting was not enough and saying you won’t ever, ever, ever do it again was just not enough. Not enough. For all forgiving God.

Biting her nails now, she worries that God won’t forgive her for watching, for spying really - she was told to go outside and play with the other children; the adults need to meet, need to talk. Instead, she did what she always does, not listen. Will God forgive her for not listening, for doing the same bad thing over, and over again? Will God forgive her father for doing what he is doing right now? Or will God bless and reward him for reminding everyone what He can do to a sinner like her uncle? 

She turns her back on the spectacle, pressing her shoulders and head hard against the sunshine yellow wall, no longer wanting to watch the grieving, the show and the warnings. Through the window of the spotless kitchen she can see the sky is dark with clouds. A storm is coming, and with it lightning. It can strike any time. Like God. She wishes her father would stop displaying her uncle’s clothes, wishes he would stand out less, be less proud. Clutching her throbbing head with her small hands, she slides down to the cold marbled floor and buries her own cries in the ruffled hem of her pink skirt.

***

Janine Elias Joukema has been writing privately for many years. She is a Strategic Management Consultant and, for now, spends more time writing business reports than writing fiction.  

See Brian Henry's schedule here, including writing workshops, weekly online writing classes, and weekend retreats in Alliston, Bolton, Barrie, Brampton, Burlington, Caledon, Collingwood, Georgetown, Georgina, Guelph, Hamilton, Jackson’s Point, Kingston, Kitchener-Waterloo, London, Midland, Mississauga, Oakville, Ottawa, Peterborough, St. Catharines, Southampton, Sudbury, Toronto, Windsor, Woodstock, Halton, Muskoka, Peel, Simcoe, York Region, the GTA, Ontario and beyond.

Online workshop: How to Write Great Dialogue, Saturday, Aug 15

How to Write Great Dialogue

Saturday, August 15, 2020
1:00 – 4:30 p.m.

Offered online, so you can attend from wherever there's Internet

Accessible to beginners and meaty enough for experienced writers, this workshop will show you how to use dialogue to make your stories more dynamic and dramatic.

Whether you’re writing fiction or memoir, you need to be able to write great dialogue that both sounds natural and packs dramatic punch, and you need to know how to mix your dialogue and narrative so that your characters come alive. 

Come to this workshop and learn all about writing dialogue – both the basics and the best tricks of the trade. 

Workshop leader Brian Henry has been a book editor and creative writing instructor for more than 25 years. He publishes Quick Brown Fox, Canada’s most popular blog for writers, teaches creative writing at Ryerson University and has led workshops everywhere from Boston to Buffalo and from Sarnia to St. John. But his proudest boast is that he has helped many of his students get published.

Read reviews of Brian's Saturday workshops, weekly courses and weekend retreats, here {and scroll down}.

This workshop will be offered on Zoom. Orientation provided, but you will need a computer, tablet or smartphone with a mic and, preferably, a camera {i.e. a webcam}. 

Fee: $37.17 + hst = $42 advance payment only. 

To reserve a spot now, email: brianhenry@sympatico.ca

See Brian’s full schedule here, including writing workshops, weekly writing classes, and weekend retreats in, Bolton, Barrie, Brampton, Burlington, Caledon, Collingwood, Georgetown, Georgina, Guelph, Hamilton, Jackson’s Point, Kingston, Kitchener-Waterloo, London, Midland, Mississauga, Oakville, Ottawa, Peterborough, St. Catharines, Southampton, Sudbury, Toronto, Windsor, Woodstock, Halton, Muskoka, Peel, Simcoe, York Region, the GTA, Ontario and beyond.

“The Showgirl” by Nicoletta Korstanje

The phone call to announce my grandmother had passed away was not surprising; she was well into her eighties and visibly weaker during my last few visits with her. Still, it was shocking to hear the words come from my mother’s mouth: “She passed away peacefully in her sleep.”

           

I considered the woman my grandmother had been. She was always kind and loving to me. In recent years (especially since my grandfather had passed away) she was quiet and somewhat fragile. She was also what I would describe as a stereotypical grandmother. Sunday mornings were for church while Sunday afternoons were for baking with her grandchildren.

           

I missed her immediately, but it was not until the following month when my cousin Lucy and I offered to help clean out my grandmother and grandfather’s belongings that that I felt the full weight of my loss.

The house brought back many memories. Every Sunday afternoon of my childhood, after church, my family would make our way to our grandparents’ house. I was still quite young when my grandfather died and as a result had few memories of him. On the other hand, I had many Sunday afternoons with my grandmother to look back on.

           

As my cousins and I got older the weekly Sunday visits slowly came to a halt. However, I still found my way to visit my grandmother from time to time. We would sit by the window sipping tea together out of her cherished old china cups and talk about life. She relived her youth vicariously through my stories. I would share tales of me and my friends going out to dance, and we would engage in serious discussions about where I was going to go for university. 

At the time, and right up until that day we cleared out her things I thought my grandmother envied my youth and freedom. I imagined she had lived a simple life, going through the motions of getting an education, knowing full well the entire time that she would ultimately become a housewife.

           

In the attic I found the truth.

           

Before even completing the climb up the stairs I could already see the feathers and glitter standing in the corner of the room. The mirror behind the costume reflected gems and stones streaming down the backside, enhancing additional feathers. Upon closer inspection I could appreciate the detail and craftsmanship that went into constructing this piece of clothing that was really more like art.

“Lucy!” I shouted, excited to share my discovery with my cousin. While waiting for her to make her way up to the attic I discovered a head-dress that belonged to the costume. It was just as glorious as the outfit, complete with matching fuchsia feathers that seemed to reach the heavens and rhinestones that matched the ones on the bustier. Enchanted by the beauty of the outfit I completely forgot about my cousin and nearly jumped five feet in the air when she showed up at the top of the stairs.

           

“What’s up?” she asked casually walking towards me. I was baffled by her calm demeanour. “Have you ever seen anything so beautiful?” I asked.

“Yeah, it’s pretty great isn’t it?”

“Have you seen this before? Was it your mom’s? It’s quite elaborate for a Halloween costume, what did she wear it to?”

My cousin looked at me as though I was speaking a foreign language. “Emily, this wasn’t my mom’s. It was Grandma’s.” Her tone suggested this was information I should have already known.

“What are you talking about?”

“When Grandma was young she was one of the girls in the Las Vegas shows.”

Seeing the confusion cross my face she continued to explain without further prodding.

           

“She was a showgirl in Las Vegas. Apparently, she was quite famous. Well that’s what she always said anyways.” Lucy laughed. “She may not have been exaggerating – somewhere around here there are pictures of her in costume.”

           

Paralyzed by the new information all I could do was watch my cousin as she riffled through a nearby box. She pulled out a jewelry case, a make-up bag that had glitter and stars all over it, and finally a rather thick envelope.

           

“Here they are!” she declared and handed me the yellowed envelope.

Sure enough the first picture was of a very young looking woman who resembled my grandmother wearing the costume I’d found.

           

The photos that followed were similar – more pictures of my grandmother looking beautiful, dripping in jewels and cloaked in feathers. There were pictures of her at her dressing table and with other girls. At the bottom of the pile there she was front and centre – with a group of men who struck an uncanny resemblance to the Rat Pack.

“Wow, this is really her” I said.

Lucy frowned.

           

“How did you know about this?” I asked

           

“Grandma told me about it, she even let me try on the costume, once I was big enough to fit into it.”

           

“How long did she dance for? Did Grandpa know she was a dancer? Oh my God, is that how they met? He walked into some sleazy bar on the strip and found Grandma there?”

           

“Ew, don’t make it sound so seedy Emily. Grandma wasn’t a stripper, she was a showgirl. In fact she was the girl who danced front row centre, and there were even a few shows where some guys carried her out on their shoulders.”

The point being she was a big deal. She didn’t meet Grandpa while she was a dancer though. They met in Vegas just after she stopped dancing. She had just retired from dancing and was trying to figure out what she wanted to do next, met Grandpa one night in a bookstore of all places and got swept away. At least that is how she described it.”

           

As my cousin continued to talk I took a turn riffling through the old box. In addition to the photos and jewelry box I found some posters for a couple of the shows Grandma had been in. The posters varied a bit, different outfits and shows but my grandmother was always featured front and centre with the tagline “Vicki Vegas – the most famous showgirl on the strip”.

           

Returning my gaze to the glorious costume in front of me I made a sad realization. I hadn’t the first clue who my grandmother had been.

           

“How do you know all of this – she just told you?”

           

“I asked her, Em.”

           

“But you asked her what? ‘Oh Grandma I was just wondering, were you ever a dancer on the Vegas strip?’”

           

“Don’t be silly. I asked her what she did when she was young, what was life like when she was our age. You spent just as much time with Grandma as I did. What did you talk about all the time?”

           

Thinking carefully about our many conversations over the years I was slightly ashamed at the answer: “Me. We talked about me.”

           

When I met Lucy’s eyes she was smiling sweetly at me. “Relax, Em. Whatever you talked about, Grandma wouldn’t have cared – she just loved spending time with us.”

I knew Lucy was trying to comfort me, and I hoped she was right. But I still couldn’t shake the feeling that I had really missed out on something special. I had only seen Grandma for the role she played in my life: my grandmother. I never saw her as Mary, and I never got to hear about “Vicki Vegas” the most famous showgirl on the strip.

“What do you think we should do with this stuff?” Lucy asked as she carefully stroked the head-dress.

           

“I think you should take it” I said.

           

“Really? You don’t want any of it?”

“I wouldn’t mind one photograph of her dressed up, but that’s it. You should really take everything else.”

Vicki Vegas was Lucy’s grandmother, mine was Mary. Mary, who went to church with me every Sunday morning and baked with me every Sunday afternoon. And that was okay.

Nicoletta Korstanje is a writer from Grimsby, Ontario. After obtaining a "practical" career in education she returned to her passion for writing and not taking herself too seriously. She is currently working on a collection of short stories focused on the experiences that shape our relationships with those around us. 

See Brian Henry's schedule here, including writing workshops, weekly online writing classes, and weekend retreats in, Alliston, Bolton, Barrie, Brampton, Burlington, Caledon, Collingwood, Georgetown, Georgina, Guelph, Hamilton, Jackson’s Point, Kingston, Kitchener-Waterloo, London, Midland, Mississauga, Oakville, Ottawa, Peterborough, St. Catharines, Southampton, Sudbury, Toronto, Windsor, Woodstock, Halton, Muskoka, Peel, Simcoe, York Region, the GTA, Ontario and beyond.