Amelia Theriault-Brown is a Boston-based literary agent at Laura Gross Literary Agency who champions voicey, strange fiction with a strong sense of place, alongside narrative nonfiction that celebrates the overlooked—with a psychology-and-neuroscience background that gives her a genuinely specialist eye.
In brief
Theriault-Brown is a newer agent, having moved from foreign rights director to literary agent at Laura Gross Literary Agency in 2026 after joining the agency in 2023—meaning her client list is still being built and represents a real opportunity for the right writer.
Her personal background is unusually specific: a psychology/neuroscience researcher turned MFA graduate (Bennington College) turned children's publisher (Charlesbridge)—this shapes every lane she works in, from the science writing she evaluates with specialist rigor to the off-beat kids' books she gravitates toward.
She draws a firm line in speculative fiction: she wants the weird, surreal, and uncanny, but explicitly steers away from horror—a meaningful distinction writers should honor in how they position their manuscript.
Her children's publishing roots mean picture books and middle grade are genuinely on the table, not a token add-on—but she wants off-beat, contemporary, and genuinely strange, not safe or formula-driven.
She has a self-declared high bar and low tolerance for pop psychology in nonfiction—writers pitching science-adjacent narrative nonfiction must demonstrate depth, not just a TED Talk premise.
Lately
A spotlight published in August 2026 confirmed her transition from foreign rights director to full literary agent at Laura Gross Literary Agency, marking 2026 as the start of her active client-building. She outlined her interest in obsessive, voicey fiction and narrative nonfiction about the overlooked and the natural world, and emphasized a high bar for science writing given her research background.
What Amelia is looking for
This is her primary lane. She wants fiction with a distinctive, obsessive voice and a powerful, specific sense of place—the kind of prose where you can feel the author agonizing over every line. She gravitates toward the strange and dark, but within a surreal, weird, or uncanny register rather than outright horror. Think psychologically textured, off-center narratives where form and voice are doing as much work as plot.
She actively wants speculative work, but her taste is specific: the uncanny and the surreal over the conventionally horrifying. Writers should think Kafka's dread, not Stephen King's monsters. The speculative element should feel organic to a literary sensibility—strange premises, psychological unease, and reality slightly unhinged are all welcome; jump-scare mechanics and genre horror tropes are not.
She looks for writers who seek out the overlooked, the underrepresented, and the hard-to-classify—subjects that resist easy categorization. Stories about the natural world are particularly welcome. Her psychology and neuroscience lab background means she has genuine subject-matter expertise in that space and will hold science-adjacent proposals to a high standard; she explicitly has no patience for pop-psychology packaging or oversimplified takeaways.
Her background at an independent children's publisher means this is a sincere interest, not a courtesy listing. She wants submissions that are off-beat and contemporary—fiction or nonfiction—that treat children as the strange, curious, and genuinely weird creatures they are. Safe, market-tested premises are unlikely to excite her; she wants the unexpected.
Amplifying underrepresented voices is a stated priority across every category she works in—it is not a sub-genre but a lens she applies universally. Writers from marginalized communities or telling stories about overlooked experiences should note this is an active, not performative, commitment.
Not the right fit
Taste fingerprint
How to query Amelia
She is currently closed to queries (as of September 7, 2026) — confirm the form is live before submitting anything.
Lead with voice: her stated ideal is fiction written by someone who spends an 'unreasonable amount of time' at the line level. Your query letter should reflect that same care — a flat, functional query for a voice-driven manuscript is a mismatch.
Name your sense of place specifically and early. Place is not just setting for her — it is a core criterion. A query that says 'set in a small town' is vague; one that makes the location feel alive and particular is doing the work she's looking for.
Position speculative work carefully. If your manuscript is dark, clarify its register: uncanny, surreal, or weird will resonate; horror framing will not. Choosing the right word here signals you understand her taste.
For narrative nonfiction, demonstrate your expertise or access. She has worked in research labs — she will recognize a shallow treatment of psychology or neuroscience immediately. Show that your engagement with the subject has depth.
Children's submissions should foreground their off-beat quality up front. Don't bury the strangeness — it's the reason she'd want to read it.
She actively seeks underrepresented voices across all categories. If that applies to you or your subject, it is worth naming directly in your query — it is a genuine priority, not a checkbox.
She participates in writing workshops and conferences where in-person pitching is possible — this is a real alternate path to her attention while queries are closed.