A Reason To Gather

Not So Secret Agent is an email newsletter all about the inside scoop on cookbook publishing from senior literary agent, Sally Ekus (that’s me!). Make sure we never miss the chance to connect.

Dear Not So Secret Agent readers,

First of all, a huge and heartfelt thanks to each of you that took the time to read my personal essay about my dad. Your texts, comments, and emails meant the world to me. Clearly, in writing about loss, grief, and even chicken, I tugged on a common thread.

My first Father’s Day without my dad was softened by all of you, and by the absolutely perfect weather that was frankly an insult to all other days.

Anyway, as you may have seen on IG, I attended the 2026 James Beard Media Awards two weekends ago in Chicago.

I had already started cooking up a newsletter in my head leading up to the event, but I hadn’t yet figured out what my angle would be. Then, a couple of days before I left for Chicago, the news broke that I’d made it onto the 2026 Cherry Bombe Power List.

Let me be abundantly clear that I am not equating landing on the Power List with winning a JBF award. It’s just that the timing of the public recognition coincided perfectly with this post coming together in my brain.

Though I’m an agent that was trained by a publicist, meaning I love sharing news, the reality is I’m most comfortable celebrating my clients, not myself. Just to be listed among all these iconic powerhouses (especially three clients Jaíne Mackievicz, Crystal Wahpepah, and Toni Tipton-Martin!!!) feels unbelievable.

And by “unbelievable”, I mean to say that I actually don’t believe it.

Case in point… When the email came to my inbox congratulating me on making the list, my immediate reply was: “Thank you! Let me know which client this is for and I’ll pass it along.”

***Not So Secret Agent sidenote: As I am often the first point of interaction on my clients’ contact forms, I’m regularly fielding exciting emails to forward along.***

“It’s for you!!!” Kerry Diamond responded. Wait, what??

So here’s the thing that over the years I’ve come to realize about lists and awards: They foster connection and community.

Sure, one could argue that they also foster intense competitiveness. Feelings ranging from longing, anxiety, jealousy, and full-on panic may also be common side effects. Some people might feel shame about even vying for an award in the first place.

But it’s me, your Not So Secret Agent, cheerleader of all things culinary and champion of all things publishing! That means today’s post is about community. Our incredible industry. And the ways in which, awards or not, we can continue to make an impact.

But okay, since I know you want to know, first I’ll give my answer to an impossible-to-answer question:

Awards mean different things to everyone. They can matter or not matter simultaneously depending on various factors. The phrase “Two things can be true at once” has been a guiding light for me personally, and it feels apt when thinking about awards too.

Truly, IT DEPENDS. If you’ve been a reader here for any amount of time, you know that this is my go-to answer to most questions. I’m not trying to dodge. Rather, my aim is to relentlessly drive home that there are no rules to follow to ensure you’ll climb that next rung on the publishing ladder. Nothing in publishing is cut and dry. Each author, each book, each award or not, is its own journey.

You do you, and you will get to the next rung.

In some cases, yes, awards matter very much.

Awards signal a few universal things:

1. Vetting:

Nominees have had their work scrutinized, tested, analyzed, and “proven” in some way. What that “way” is though, well, that’s sort of an unknown.

Judges put in months of work. I’m not privy to all that work entails, but I do know that it’s significant. And it’s all volunteer! Since anonymity is critical, my understanding is that often (or maybe always) they don’t even know who else is judging in the same category as them. I touch on this a bit in my insider’s look at IACP’s cookbook awards judging featuring Christina Ward, but please note that IACP and Beard are wildly different organizations.

From what I gather, the committee has a rubric that standardizes the process of evaluation. They use rigor to judge rigor. Books are weighed for their organization, usability (yes, like does the recipe actually work), design, innovation, voice, topic as it pertains to the category of entry, and excellence, etc. This is what I’ve heard – again, I’m not an insider by any means.

***Not So Secret Agent sidenote: Though one can argue that all awards are flawed in their own unique and challenging ways, I want to give a shout out to the JBF foundation for consciously overhauling their process in 2020. In the wake of an industry-wide racial reckoning, it was no small feat to invest time, resources, and labor in evaluating every aspect of an organization.***

***Double Not So Secret Agent sidenote: Whenever I hear criticism about a book not making the list, I remind myself of one thing. Heck, even when I shake my head when books I was sure would be nominated are overlooked, I remember that the committee is comprised of my colleagues. There are many people I know personally engaging in the evaluation. It is not some unknown “power that be” out to get the rest of us. The committee knows the scoring system and they stick to it. I can only hope that it is as fair as it can be and re-evaluated as the industry evolves.***

2. Validation:

Agents, editors, publishing teams, and others across the culinary industry scroll the list of nominees when they are announced. Having your work recognized in such a way, being seen as the utmost example of excellence, is extremely validating. Yes, you should take a minute to acknowledge that it feels f*cking awesome. Lean into it! I even get a dose of this feeling when I see my clients being recognized. It is a nod to everyone involved in supporting these voices. Cookbooks especially are works of intense collaboration, so those working behind the scenes beam with pride too!

***Not So Secret Agent sidenote: For everyone else though, not making the list often brings up at least a twinge of disappointment, upset, invalidation, jealousy, etc. Your feelings are real. They are valid. I also get a dose of this feeling too. After all, the majority of my clients and books do not make the list. Numerically speaking, that’s just how it works when there are three nominees per category and literally hundreds of new cookbooks published each year. ***

***Double Not So Secret Agent sidenote: THIS IS OKAY! Feel your feels and know you’re not alone. I promise. Being nominated and winning aren’t everything. Do not chase awards. Chase your passions, your expertise, and the unique work that no one else but you can do.***

3. Visibility:

The nominee list (and winning of course!) helps your work stand out in a crowded genre. For example, I personally witnessed this while browsing in a cookbook-loving indie bookstore where I eavesdropped on overheard shoppers commenting to each other about which authors were Beard nominated or had won.

Speaking from personal experience, I also study the lineup of nominations to make sure I have every author and writer on my radar. The list often introduces me to new bodies of work and new talent. Of course, since most nominees already have agent representation, I am less actively scouting and more looking to ensure I am being a good literary citizen. This is also a way to support what is left of independent journalism (I’m looking at you, Ravenous, my newest paid subscription!).

***Not So Secret Agent sidenote: I recommend that you follow the nominees’ work, their publishers, and the media outlets listed in the journalism awards. Take note of these writers, publications, and people. Engage with their work. Research the publishers. Read and pitch the freelance-driven/supported publications.***

Beyond all the winners (and losers, ouch, I know) and glitz and glamor, awards help foster and strengthen our community. Seeing the people I only see once a year in Chicago and maintaining those relationships is without a doubt one of the most rewarding parts of my year. It is wonderful to share the annual “Happy Anniversary” Chicago-style hugs with everyone! (Yea, that’s a nod to Chicago-style hot dogs. Hugs are hugs, no matter the city. 😉).

Gathering in person is SO FUN, and not just the night of the awards. This year’s outstanding ancillary events, many of which were specifically in support of independent journalism, are what we need right now. The pre-parties, after-parties, sanctioned events, coffee dates, random shared elevator rides, and serendipitous Drybar meetups all carried a sense of welcome and community.

Hot tip: bring your business cards (yes that’s still a thing for me!) because there may even be a connection to be made in the hair care chair next to you.

Everyone seems to descend on Chicago with a shared sense of joy, camaraderie, and appreciation for excellence. Not to mention how the host city shows up for all of us!

I also want to shout out the publishers who support their authors in various ways. This is not just paying the entry fees per book and per category (which, do the math, is sometimes thousands of dollars). It’s also chasing authors for their submission impact statements to ensure deadlines are met.

***Not So Secret Agent sidenote: The foundation requires impact statements from potential nominees, which can be in written or video form. They are a chance for authors to directly express why and how their work connects to the mission of the organization.***

Some publishers, on select occasions, even help offset expenses for their nominees. And so much more! All this to say that I DEEPLY appreciate the ways in which publishers show up for this annual celebration of our industry.

***Not So Secret Agent sidenote: Hey authors, please don’t take the above nod to publishers as a way to heap additional expectations onto them. The last thing I want to hear from a publisher is: “Sooooo author X told me that NSSA Sally said we would cover their flight, pay for their hotel, buy all their celebratory drinks, rent them a private jet, etc. Care to explain?” Every situation is different and, in my experience, most publishers do not regularly contribute to authors’ Beard expenses!***

Personally, when I think about what it means to show up in Chicago, I think about cookbook people prioritizing showing up for one another. For themselves. For the love of books and journalism. For community and connection.

During Beard weekend, whenever I see someone I recognize from within the biz but have never met, I’m more inclined to go say hello. It’s like we all share a reason for being in town. That ice breaker alone gives me a shot of confidence. I see this in others too, often overhearing “I have admired your work for so long and just wanted to introduce myself and say hi!”

The shared understanding that nerves and excitement are high seems to bond everyone. As the doors to the awards open, people wearing “nominee” pins, strangers to one another just yesterday, are posing together for pictures and sharing hugs. New friendships are kindled and new connections are forged everywhere!

Then there’s the after awards reception, where people who’ve never met saddle up next to each other at the few high tops and do their best to balance a cocktail while shoving a taco in their faces. Like I said, BONDS are made.

Listen, I get that most of us have mixed feelings about awards. However, for every nominee and winner, there’s far more than a handful of equally talented, important, incredible people out there who aren’t recognized and celebrated the way they may deserve.

If this is you, I urge you to continue leaning into your passion. Awards are lovely (and validating and blah, blah) but they aren’t everything, not even close. The community on display in Chicago is reflected all around us. Here in this newsletter. Over on your socials. In your colleagues, readers, reviewers, and followers. Heck, in the friends you had over for dinner last night.

If this wasn’t your year for a nom, or even for the more modest nod you really had your heart set on, that doesn’t mean your work is not contributing to our fantastic industry.

For those feeling the FOMO, here’s a ‘lil list of a few ways in which you can keep furthering your own work as you chase that elusive trip across the James Beard stage:

• Research book comps and refine your own big idea.

• Double down on your passion and expertise.

• Write and/or revise your book proposal.

• Communicate your career goals to your agent if you have one.

• Befriend your indie bookstore.

• Start marketing yourself!

• Land a byline.

• Host an author in your hometown and be so bookable that you’re the conversation partner.

• Meet your deadlines!

• Be a collaborative author (I’m looking at you cover convos!)

• Triple test your recipes.

• Make sure your book is easy to use.

• Be discoverable.

• Be a good literary citizen. Heck, while you’re at it, be a good human citizen.

Thanks for indulging my Pollyanna debrief! I really am a cocktail glass half full kind of gal. Or two in the case of the awards reception.

Much of the above list centers around camaraderie, connections, and community building, all of which are hallmarks of my experiences in Chicago over the past few years. And I would argue hallmarks of our industry at large too. Thanks for being a part of it all.

Cheers!

~Sally~

P.S. If you’re so inclined, take a look at my recap of last year’s JBF Awards. At the very least, make sure you check out this year’s observations from Jenna Helwig over on The Cookbookery Collective.