Pitching

With the RWA conference coming up next week, the blogs are abuzz with people talking about conference preparation, and, moreover, pitch session preparation. JenWriter recently attended one of those crazy speed-dating pitch sessions (and got 7 requests and a referral — Go, Jen!) and has some excellent tips.

I will not be attending RWA this year. Rather, I shall be doing all sort of really exciting other stuff I’ll talk about soon.

On the subject of pitching — eh. I put a lot of emphasis on those pitch sessions back when I was trying to find an agent or editor on the conference circuit. I remember being so nervous and quaking at my first that the editor in question (Berkley’s Cindy Hwang), reached over to pat my hand in comfort. (She requested the partial, form reject 9 months later.) My next pitch session featured an editor (Abby Zidle, then at HQN), who said up front she was requesting from everyone, then spent the rest of the session doing a Q&A about the then-nascent HQN line. Her rejection, filled with comments detailing exactly what she didn’t like about it (characters, premise, plot), came a few months later (she also got it as a contest entry around the same time).

My third pitch session, with an agent, was a scary experience. The agent did not have a lot of faith in the pitch experience, she said up front, because often something would sound great when the writer explained it, but the writing itself wouldn’t be there. Then, the first pitch given by someone in the group was for a genre that the agent did not represent, and she made no bones about telling the writer that. The writer was clearly crushed and spent the remained of the session white-faced and staring at her shoes. It put a damper on the proceedings, let me tell you. I did get a partial request, which later turned into a full request. Unfortunately, things started getting confusing after that. I got a form rejection in my SASE, so I wrote it off, only to receive a phone call a few months later from the agent saying she was interested, had sent it out for a second read, and would call me back in a week. Two months later, after I’d written her off a second time, signed with someone else for a different book, and sold it, she did call back to talk about the book. I think we crossed wires somewhere.

My fourth pitch session was with another agent at a small regional conference. Another group session (I’ve only had one indie pitch). She was really good at putting everyone at ease, requested my book, then (and still incomplete). I got all tied up in running contests and moving to DC. A few months later, I wrote her and asked if I could send Secret Society Girl instead. She said yes, read it, liked it, and made an offer.

A few years back, I wrote an article about pitch sessions that got reprinted in a dozen RWA chapter newsletters. I also ran a week long workshop on it two years ago before Nationals at Romance Divas (at which I met one of my critique partners). So it’s weird now to say that I’m ambivalent about them.

But the truth is, I’m simply not a fan of the formal pitch session. Many editors and agents will not say no to your face, and I’ve heard from many more that often, by the end of the day, their brain is mush from hearing so much rapid fire story concept. I much prefer the more casual drive by or elevator pitch. You’re in a conversation with an agent or editor, they ask you what you write, and you whip out your pitch. It’s how Secret Society Girl was first pitched to editors and agents (my critique partner at dinner at a local conference). I’ve pitched other people’s books that way, too. Of course, it requires being in a conversation with an editor or agent, which at a large national conference can sometimes be a tough situation to swing, especially as an unpublished author. I feel you. Remember the shaking and the trembling?

Editors and agents are normal people, not godlike creatures. If you see one in a large group at the bar (not in a one on one-or-two meeting) feel free to go up and join in the conversation. Many times, editors and agents attend panels and sit next to you. Feel free to strike up a conversation with them. They know why you are there, and most of them will ASK YOU WHAT YOU WRITE. Attend the cocktail party functions like Death By Chocolate and the Chick Lit Party, which are filled with industry pros in casual, mingling mode. Be ready with an elevator pitch.

Formal pitch session or no, the skill required to pitch a manuscript are valuable and will serve you well, which is why I taught the classes and wrote the articles even after I was disenchanted with the formal pitch machine. Even after you sell, you have to pitch. Every single person who hears you have a book coming out will ask you what it’s about. “It’s a series about a young woman at an Ivy League school who is one of the first female members of a notorious secret society kind of like Skull & Bones.” “It’s a young adult fantasy about killer unicorns and the virgin descendants of Alexander the Great who hunt them.”

Also, the skills you learn in a verbal pitch of any kind are the same kind you need when crafting a query letter: intriguing, short descriptions of your novels designed to make the audience want more. And query letters are how most people get agents anyway.