{"id":7244,"date":"2010-11-03T09:34:59","date_gmt":"2010-11-03T13:34:59","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/?p=7244"},"modified":"2010-11-04T15:26:25","modified_gmt":"2010-11-04T19:26:25","slug":"a-week-in-culture-sarah-burnes-literary-agent","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/2010\/11\/03\/a-week-in-culture-sarah-burnes-literary-agent\/","title":{"rendered":"A Week in Culture: Sarah Burnes, Literary Agent"},"content":{"rendered":"

\"\"Author\u2019s Note: So as to not turn this into a kind of Caucasian Chalk Circle<\/a>\u2014that is, play favorites, pit one client against another\u2014I am not going to mention any of my own this week unless they win an award<\/a> or Lorin tells me to<\/a>. <\/em><\/p>\n

DAY ONE<\/h3>\n

6:56 A.M.<\/strong> Alarm goes off, blaring NPR. Sebastian<\/a> gets up to wake the kids. I turn off the radio and go back to sleep. <\/p>\n

7:34 A.M.<\/strong> The Middlest comes up to make sure I am awake. I turn on the radio and listen to the Morning Edition<\/em> story about the NFL enforcing their own rules. <\/p>\n

8:35 A.M.<\/strong> For reasons both Byzantine<\/a> and boring, I am driving to work today, dropping off the Littlest at kindergarten on the way. We pass by a Wonder Bread truck as we walk to the car. <\/p>\n

\"\"<\/a>\u201cCandy!\u201d he shouts.<\/p>\n

\u201cNo,\u201d I reply. \u201cThat\u2019s a bread truck.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cA candy bread truck?\u201d<\/p>\n

9:45 A.M.<\/strong> At the office, I close my door to finish my weekend reading. I\u2019m reading on a Kindle, which is convenient, but I haven\u2019t yet figured out how to transfer my notes and highlights onto a document, so it\u2019s not nearly as useful as it might be. Or as a paper manuscript is. But of course this makes me like this guy<\/a>. <\/p>\n

11:07 A.M.<\/strong> An offer comes in via e-mail! It\u2019s going to be a good week. <\/p>\n

1:00 P.M.<\/strong> Lunch with my friend Diane, Executive Director of the New Press<\/a>. I tell her I think she should publish a book on the legal roots of the foreclosure crisis<\/a>, and she looks at me quizzically. I realize I\u2019m not explaining myself well<\/span> and tell her I\u2019ll give it more thought. We gossip about the kids in the sunshine at La Esquina<\/a>.<\/p>\n

\"\"2:35 P.M.<\/strong> Early for an appointment, I duck into B&N (there was no nearby independent!) and browse. I buy Gail Collins\u2019s When Everything Changed<\/a><\/em>, having just gobbled up Rebecca Traister\u2019s Big Girls Don\u2019t Cry<\/a><\/em>. I also buy the current issue of Vogue<\/em>, which really I should just subscribe to. <\/p>\n

4:48 P.M.<\/strong> I dive back into a proposal I am editing\u2014on paper. <\/p>\n

5:57 P.M.<\/strong> Pack up bag. Since it\u2019s Monday, I have all my favorite<\/a> magazines<\/a>, including the NYRB<\/a>. <\/p>\n

6:20 P.M.<\/strong> Driving home, I listen to the end of All Things Considered<\/em> and to Marketplace<\/em> and shout at this guy<\/a> who says that there should not be a moratorium on foreclosures. What if it were your paperwork that got lost, pal? <\/p>\n

7:14 P.M.<\/strong> My beloved mother-in-law and the Eldest\u2019s BFF are over for dinner. I make chicken and broccoli<\/span> from dinneralovestory.com<\/a>, and even the picky eater eats it. <\/p>\n

\"\"8:24 P.M.<\/strong> The Littlest and I are reading Charlotte\u2019s Web<\/em>. They\u2019re at the fair, and Charlotte has just created her magnum opus, her egg sac. My friend Sarah<\/a> says that when she got married, CW<\/em> was one of three books she required her husband-to-be to have read. <\/p>\n

8:54 P.M.<\/strong> The Middlest reads me a chapter of One Thousand and One Arabian Nights<\/a><\/em> while I flip through New York<\/em>. After the kids have been convinced to go to bed, I realize the Eldest has stolen my New Yorker<\/em>, so I read The New York Review of Books<\/em> (Cathy Schine agrees with me on Jennifer Egan<\/a>). <\/p>\n

10:15 P.M.<\/strong> I read a couple of chapters of Sigrid Nunez\u2019s Salvation City<\/em>. I loved The Last of Her Kind<\/em><\/a>, but this is a different\u2014if equally accomplished\u2014kind of book. The last one was saturated in envy, but this one seems to be about \u2026 love. <\/p>\n

DAY TWO<\/h3>\n

8:48 A.M.<\/strong> After drop-off, get on the subway to go to work. Read The New York Times<\/a><\/em>. See, I was right about that paperwork stuff. <\/p>\n

\"\"9:25 A.M.<\/strong> I get off the subway at the same stop I used when I worked at Knopf<\/span>. In Home Cooking<\/em><\/a>, Laurie Colwin describes getting off at the very same stop, buying a bagel at the very same underground place, and walking down the street to the (very same) Random House building.<\/p>\n

12:15 P.M.<\/strong> Realize Stephanie<\/a> isn\u2019t here this week. Argue with David about BookScan, and how accurate the numbers are. <\/p>\n

12:25 P.M.<\/strong> Publishers Lunch comes in and I quickly fall through the rabbit hole<\/a>. <\/p>\n

12:35 P.M.<\/strong> Running late to lunch, forget my Kindle to read on the way downtown. I play Scrabble instead. There\u2019s nary a vowel to be found in my first seven tiles. Sigh. <\/p>\n

1:03 P.M.<\/strong> Lunch with Kathy Pories from Algonquin, editor of Chris<\/a>\u2019s Mudbound<\/a><\/em>, at Market Table. We talk about bullying, teenage girls, and the collapse of the midlist. We decide it\u2019s true: It does get better. <\/p>\n

3:05 P.M.<\/strong> Finish edit on proposal. Catch up on e-mail.<\/p>\n

4:55 P.M.<\/strong> Start macro edit of historical novel. <\/p>\n

5:47 P.M.<\/strong> Try to finish FreshDirect order for tomorrow. The Middlest needs his calories<\/a>.<\/p>\n

\"\"5:55 P.M.<\/strong> Tonight I should go to CLMP<\/a>\u2019s Spelling Bee<\/a> which is a great event for a super organization, but we\u2019re out on Thursday and even that is too much for the Eldest. My money is on Jonathan Burnham to reclaim the crown. <\/p>\n

6:15 P.M.<\/strong> On the subway home, I upgrade my Scrabble game to \u201chard,\u201d and the computer is merciless. And it cheats. How else does it get the Q and the Z both games?<\/p>\n

7:40 P.M.<\/strong> At dinner (hanger steak with pan sauce, tater tots, salad) I turn on Jack Johnson<\/a>. This was our dinner music until we turned to … well, we haven\u2019t turned to anything else. This is what we listen to at dinner. (Though Sebastian, New Testament freak that he is, likes to listen to Godspell<\/a> or this guy<\/a> while he does the dishes.)<\/p>\n

\"\"8:20 P.M.<\/strong> Sebastian puts the Littlest to bed while I try once again to finish the FreshDirect order. The Middlest reads to me while the Eldest paces around the kitchen table, talking through her day at school. <\/p>\n

\u201cDid you have these experiences?\u201d he asks. <\/p>\n

\u201cWhich ones?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThe one [Eldest] is having.\u201d <\/p>\n

\u201cYes,\u201d I say. \u201cBut not til high school, when I was fish food. I got chewed up and spit out.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhy?\u201d he asks. <\/p>\n

\u201cI was a geek,\u201d I say.<\/p>\n

\u201cReally?\u201d he asks. <\/p>\n

\u201cI could totally see you as a geek,\u201d says the Eldest, pausing in her rotation. \u201cNo offense or anything.\u201d<\/p>\n

8:28 P.M.<\/strong> The Eldest is teaching the Middlest to waltz. <\/p>\n

\"\"<\/a>8:49 P.M.<\/strong> The Middlest goes back to reading One Thousand and One Arabian Nights<\/em>: \u201cExplain yourself nincompoop, son of a nincompoop!\u201d Heh heh. The Eldest is reading a graphic novel called Malice<\/a><\/em> that she bought for her little brother. He\u2019d rather read this<\/a>. <\/p>\n

9:34 P.M.<\/strong> Settle in with Harper\u2019s<\/em>. Read T\u00e9a Obreht\u2019s very good vampire piece<\/a>. I didn\u2019t know she was funny! This is delightful. <\/p>\n

10:08 P.M.<\/strong> Fall asleep with the Nunez<\/a> on my lap. <\/p>\n

DAY THREE<\/h3>\n

8:20 A.M.<\/strong> The Middlest has hurt his ankle so it\u2019s back into the car to drive him to school. Did I mention it\u2019s fund-raising week on WNYC<\/a>? I love this station and I don\u2019t want to sound churlish, but I hate fund-raising. Thank God for Alec Baldwin<\/a>, the actor I hate to love. It\u2019s all your fault, Tina Fey.<\/p>\n

\"\"8:45 A.M.<\/strong> Driving to the Brooklyn Bridge, listening to Hillary Clinton on Afghanistan: \u201cNo peace that sacrifices women\u2019s rights is a peace that we can afford to support.\u201d You go, girl. Looking forward to Kidlit<\/a>, which I\u2019m hosting tonight. It was started by my friend Gretchen Rubin as part of her Happiness Project<\/a>; we read young-adult and children\u2019s books, alternating classics, modern classics, and contemporary books.<\/p>\n

10:36 A.M.<\/strong> Working through the novel, thinking about what Jonathan Dee said about historical fiction (in a review<\/a> of Tom McCarthy\u2019s C<\/em> in Harper\u2019s<\/em>): \u201cA novel is a document of consciousness, and since consciousness today is not precisely what it was when Woolf wrote, or Flaubert or Cervantes, the search for a form that reflects faithfully what it means to be alive in one\u2019s own time \u2026 must constantly refresh its own terms. In this light, the historical novel would seem to offer if not a false testimony exactly, then at best a kind of gloss on existing testimony.\u201d But is this the case? \u201cExplain yourself nincompoop, son of a nincompoop\u201d is immediately accessible, whereas the setting and customs of One Thousand and One Arabian Nights<\/em> are not. But it is difficult to inhabit another\u2019s mind at any time. Very few writers do as well as Mr. Dee, whose latest novel, The Privileges<\/em>, I loved. Ruth<\/span> expressed it better<\/a> than I ever could. <\/p>\n

11:33 A.M.<\/strong> Interrupt work to check Facebook, make a couple of appointments, and scroll through another manuscript, trying to come up with a title. Try, unsuccessfully, to ignore e-mail. <\/p>\n

\"\"12:34 P.M.<\/strong> Thinking about my book club I scroll through one of Flavorwire\u2019s excellent slide shows<\/a>. We\u2019re discussing Orson Scott Card\u2019s Ender\u2019s Game<\/em>, whose cover evolution<\/a> is really interesting. Published for adults, it must now have a significant teen readership. (As with To Kill A Mockingbird<\/em>.) How much is this due to the child protagonist? So much to talk about!<\/p>\n

1:15 P.M.<\/strong> Lunch with my pal Susanna, who works with Larry Kirshbaum<\/a>, one of the great publishing opiners. Aper\u00e7u of the day: \u201cThere is no frigate<\/span> like a book.\u201d<\/p>\n

3:24 P.M.<\/strong> On the way home to get ready, listen to Fresh Air<\/em>. Terry Gross is talking to a woman I assume is Elizabeth Warren, whom I love<\/a>. It turns out to be Gretchen Morgenson<\/a>, and she\u2019s talking about the legal roots and ramifications of the foreclosure crisis. Pension funds suing banks: \u201cIt isn\u2019t as dopey as it sounds.\u201d <\/p>\n

4:10 P.M.<\/strong> Home with the Eldest, listening to Jose Gonzalez<\/a> while I cook and she does her homework. I made Julie Sahni\u2019s Fragrant Yoghurt-Braised Chicken on Sunday night, and it\u2019s now sat around long enough to be delicious. I double Smitten\u2019s carrot salad<\/a> and roast cumin seeds for Madhur Jaffrey\u2019s tomato relish and her cauliflower<\/a>, which turns out a little soggy. I also make Jamie\u2019s smashed chickpeas<\/a> which is delicious, if I do say so.<\/p>\n

5:01 P.M.<\/strong> Wait, where\u2019s the best-seller list?<\/p>\n

5:10 P.M.<\/strong> The Eldest off to dance, I play Middlest\u2019s latest iTunes purchases.
\nWhat is this nonsense<\/a>? Where does he think he lives, the suburbs?<\/p>\n

5:29 P.M.<\/strong> There it is<\/a>. Nice.<\/p>\n

\"\"7:25 P.M.<\/strong> I love this group; people come early and leave early. We discuss everything but the book. Amy brings a chocolate cake and decorates it with lime-green aliens and a rocket launcher. Nothing like this ever appeared in Ender\u2019s life; he didn\u2019t even like to eat.<\/p>\n

8:15 P.M.<\/strong> Sit down to dinner; we still haven\u2019t talked about the book. The topic is college-era Halloween costumes. Jen and two friends wore sheets and carried fans (\u201cThree sheets to the wind\u201d) and Jenn\u2019s boyfriend wore pink sunglasses (he was Pangloss) every year. <\/p>\n

9:30 P.M.<\/strong> We finally start talking about the book. No one seems to have liked it as much as I did. Certainly no one loved it as much as Dan did; he read it as a boy when it first came out. He says it was the perfect book for a certain kind of geeky boy. I keep thinking about Mary Doria Russell\u2019s The Sparrow<\/a><\/em>, which I read over the summer and which blew my mind. It\u2019s sci-fi, as well, but compelling religious sci-fi, and gets as close as anything I\u2019ve ever read to being able to explain what makes us human. <\/p>\n

10:00 P.M.<\/strong> Julia announces that it\u2019s \u201cQuaker midnight,\u201d but no one makes a move. Instead, we go around the table and narrate our anxiety dreams, as I have admitted that the structure of the first Lord of the Rings<\/em> movie exactly replicates mine (those hooded horsemen!). Some fly, some fall, some turn up at tests without having studied.<\/p>\n

\"\"11:30 P.M.<\/strong> Everyone gone home, Sebastian and I watch Obama on The Daily Show<\/em><\/a>. Obama holds his own. Shouldn\u2019t it be the other way around? And did he really say that Larry Summers did a \u201checkuva job\u201d? Ouch! But I\u2019m a pragmatist and I think if he can keep articulating this progressive vision we will all be okay. <\/p>\n

12:10 P.M.<\/strong> In bed with The Atlantic<\/em>, reading their excellent \u201cBrave Thinkers<\/a>\u201d issue. <\/p>\n

Sarah Burnes is a literary agent at the Gernert Company. She lives in Brooklyn, New York, with her family. Check back tomorrow for the second installment<\/a> of her culture diary.<\/em><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Author\u2019s Note: So as to not turn this into a kind of Caucasian Chalk Circle\u2014that is, play favorites, pit one client against another\u2014I am not going to mention any of my own this week unless they win an award or Lorin tells me to. DAY ONE 6:56 A.M. Alarm goes off, blaring NPR. Sebastian gets […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":82,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_acf_changed":false,"footnotes":""},"categories":[23],"tags":[1249,958,1246,1247,1243,1242,1244,1240,1239,1245,125,1241,1248,1238,1250,1251],"class_list":["post-7244","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-the-culture-diaries","tag-book-proposal","tag-brooklyn","tag-foreclosure-crisis","tag-gail-collins","tag-gretchen-rubin","tag-kidlit","tag-kindle","tag-knopf","tag-literary-agent","tag-new-press","tag-new-york-city","tag-random-house","tag-rebecca-traister","tag-sarah-burnes","tag-scrabble","tag-tea-obreht"],"acf":[],"yoast_head":"\nA Week in Culture: Sarah Burnes, Literary Agent by Sarah Burnes<\/title>\n<meta name=\"description\" content=\"November 3, 2010 \u2013 Author\u2019s Note: So as to not turn this into a kind of Caucasian Chalk Circle\u2014that is, play favorites, 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