When a writer signs a publishing contract, that signature carries more weight than many people realize. I have sat across from plenty of smart professionals who believed talent alone would protect them in business, and that belief cost them more than pride. The question of whether an author needs a lawyer or if an agent is enough deserves a sober answer grounded in reality. Publishing is a business built on agreements, and agreements shape income for years.

A literary agent’s primary role is to sell a manuscript to a publisher and negotiate terms that benefit the author. Agents understand advances, royalty percentages, subsidiary rights, and the rhythm of the marketplace. They speak daily with editors and contracts departments, and that experience carries value. Many agents negotiate hundreds of deals during their careers, which gives them perspective on industry standards. For a large share of authors, an experienced agent can secure favorable terms and manage the relationship with the publisher. Yet an agent is not a lawyer, and that distinction matters. An agent’s commission depends on the deal closing, which means the incentive structure is different from that of an attorney who bills for legal review. Most agents read contracts carefully and negotiate revisions with skill. Still, they are not licensed to give legal advice in the formal sense, and they cannot represent an author in court if a dispute arises. A publishing contract can include clauses about option books, noncompete language, termination rights, and reversion triggers that affect an author’s future output.

For debut writers signing a standard agreement with a reputable publisher, an agent often provides sufficient protection. In that situation, the contract may follow familiar templates that have been negotiated many times before. An agent who knows the imprint’s history can anticipate sticking points and address them early. Bringing in a lawyer for a routine contract may increase cost without delivering significant additional security. The calculus shifts when the deal grows in scale. While the reality of, say, a seven-figure advance, a film adaptation clause, or foreign rights sliced into separate territories will only be a concern for a very select few, all can alter the risk profile dramatically. Intellectual property can outlive the author, and estate considerations become relevant when rights extend for decades. In those circumstances, a publishing attorney can examine indemnity provisions and audit rights with a narrower lens trained on legal exposure. An attorney can also advise on corporate structures if the author operates through a limited company.

Money is not the only factor that should guide this decision. Some writers value a second set of eyes simply for peace of mind. Others trust a long-standing relationship with an agent who has demonstrated loyalty over many years. The decision comes down to how much risk the author is willing to take and how much complexity is inside the contract. Here is the plain truth: if the agreement is straightforward and the agent has a strong reputation, that agent may be enough. If the deal introduces unusual provisions or long-term entanglements, a lawyer can be an additional safeguard. An author is building a career that depends on written terms, and those terms deserve scrutiny equal to the effort that produced the manuscript.