So I’ve done something I never thought I’d ever do: I’ve committed myself to attending a writing conference’s pitch sessions. It’s an internal commitment, mind you, not a I’ve-paid-the-conference-fee sort of set-in-stone commitment. My workplace has had me add this to my Faculty Goals form, probably because if I am successful (even though the odds are against me) and find an agent interested in reading my novel, perhaps he or she will be interested in actually representing me later on down the line.
The Art of Publishing = The Craft of the Mad Gamble.
My school values reputation, like any college, certainly.
It makes me nervous all the more.
I don’t pitch well at all. The first (and last time) I even attempted to “pitch,” I asked the publisher what he meant by “pitch.” I said, “What, you mean like give you the logline?” (I know screenwriting) He replied in the affirmative. I pitched an analogy logline (“It’s Bridget Jones meets Wonder Woman.”). He asked for more details, further comparatives. I obliged as best as I could, stumbling over any remnant of confidence I may have had left in me. He then said, “Well, that doesn’t sound interesting AT ALL.”
I was so stunned by his bluntness, I countered with a childish “Well, YOU don’t sound interesting at all!” and of course, I flounced off, completely embarrassed by Everything That Had Just Happened.
So, of course, I am terrified of the experience, but I intend to be much more prepared this time. I’m paying for the experience for pete’s sake.
(I wonder how on earth I am going to have the time to do this sort of prep work with 125 papers to grade as well?)