I am asked, with reasonable frequency these days, "Which do you recommend getting first, an agent or a book contract?" Because I, like everyone else, speak only from a place of my own experiences, I always answer, "An agent. They'll know what the hell they're doing."

Every aspiring author I've ever met has wanted an agent like a little girl wants a pony (in my case, like a little girl wants a bat-winged vampire pony that can fly and also devour the kids who liked to beat me up on the playground). Having an agent is like having a Loch Ness Monster of your very own, one that you can saddle up and use to shock and amaze your enemies as you ride it into glorious battle against Godzilla and the Easter Bunny. Having an agent will transform your life from an abyss of despair into a happy cartoon wonderland full of sunshine and zombie puppies. And sure, we understand that might not be quite true, but we all just know that the right agent will make everything okay, forever.

For a long time, I thought that the right agent for me didn't exist. That getting an agent would be sort of like getting a job: necessary, important, even pleasant at times, but still going to require me to swear less, brush my hair more, and wear uncomfortable shoes. I was willing to do these things, if I had to, but in my heart, I still wanted a bat-winged vampire pony to negotiate my contracts and strike down my enemies in my name. Because I am a simple soul.

Almost four years ago now, a friend of mine decided to introduce me a friend of hers, one who happened to be a working literary agent, looking for clients. The Agent and I exchanged some emails, going slow, navigating the wilds of acquaintance and understanding long before we reached the point where representation would become an option. It was a courtship, rather than a barroom hookup, and I am incredibly grateful for that, because anybody who's met me knows that my full attention can be an exhausting thing. She gets my full attention a lot.

Three years ago today, she asked if I wanted her to represent me. If I'd said "Yes!" any faster, I would have violated temporal causality.

The past three years have been amazing. They have been filled with firsts, seconds, thirds, and hundreds of wonderful, confusing, incredible things, and The Agent has been there every step along the way to explain, encourage, and assist. I call her my personal superhero for a reason—that's exactly what she is. Books on writing will tell you that the best thing a working writer can have is a good agent, and they're right, but what they won't tell you is that it's even better to have a good agent who understand you, understands the way you work, and is willing to see what you can do together.

So here's a happy, happy anniversary to my personal superhero, to the woman who helps me understand the business side of my chosen career, and to the only person ever to respond to my description of The Worst Book I've Ever Read by asking me to send it to them. Happy anniversary. Let's have ten more of these.

1. I don't know why this needs to be repeated, but here you go: If you friend this journal, I will friend your journal in return, so that you can see any friend-locked contests or giveaways (they're rare, but they happen). I will not necessarily read your journal, as I am very, very outnumbered, and I need to sleep occasionally. Assume I don't see anything you post unless you point it out to me explicitly. If you unfriend this journal, I will unfriend your journal in return. This is not a personal thing. This is just mirror-image reciprocity.

2. If you're looking for book release dates, or want to know when/where a story will be appearing, check my bibliography page. I update it regularly, and while not all recently-sold stories will be present (since I don't add things until they have a firm release date), this will answer ninety percent of the "when can I get...?" questions.

3. If you want to know where I'm going to be and when I'm going to be there, check my appearances page. It, too, is updated frequently (although I'm not as good about editing past appearances to put them in the correct tense as I would like to be). I'll usually post about an upcoming appearance here, but long-range planning is rendered easier by the actual appearances page.

4. If I was supposed to mail you something—a poster, a CD, a book you won in a contest, a severed human head—and you haven't received it, the appropriate channel for letting me know is via email. My website contact link is easy to find and easy to use, and if I don't know you don't have something, I can't look into it. I don't use mail confirmation when I send things; the additional postage cost is simply not an option. So please, please, if you don't have something you think you should have, email me!

5. Zombies are love.