The Pain of the Pitch
By Guest | August 22, 2010 |
Today’s guest post is by one of our semi-finalists for WU’s unpublished writer position, Christy Hayes. Christy wrote:
I’ve been at this for awhile and have seen my writing improve, made small and encouraging steps toward my ultimate goal of publication, and have come to rely upon the invaluable support of fellow writers. I don’t believe an aspiring writer can encourage people along this path unless he/she has experienced a multitude of pitfalls and the joys of incremental success.
So true. Welcome, Christy!
The Pain of the Pitch
My family loves to watch American Idol. We laugh and cringe our way through the auditions, marveling at the talent and the moxie of the contestants. But I have a confession to make: despite the fact that my husband and kids watch every episode religiously, I take about a four week break between Hollywood and the later live shows. Why, you ask? Because even though I would never dream of entering a singing competition, watching American Idol during those early weeks of the contest is a very close analogy to editor and agent pitch appointments. Watching literally makes my stomach hurt.
While I’ve never faced an editor or agent as fierce and brutally honest as Simon Cowell, they may as well all have British accents and wear v-neck sweaters. Quite simply, they hold what feels like my future in their hands–and they can see and smell my fear. That doesn’t mean I have body odor, it means I have all the telltale signs of stage fright: sweaty palms, cotton mouth, and trembling hands. It doesn’t matter how many times I have re-written and practiced my pitch, when I have to face them across the table and try to sell them my story, I’m like a house of cards on the verge on collapse. And when my almost two hundred rejection letters (for three separate manuscripts) waltz silently into the room behind me, it’s hard not to anticipate the fall.
Do these agents and editors have that much power?
No, of course not. Unlike American Idol, whether I put my best foot forward or fall flat on my back, one pitch appointment won’t make or break my chance to become a published author. Heck, they probably won’t even remember me. No matter how disastrous my performance, I will probably become, in the famous words of Simon Cowell, “completely forgettable.” In this case, I couldn’t be happier because unless they don’t buy what I’m selling, I’ll get the chance to send them a partial, and then my writing can do the talking.
But here’s an important thing to remember: agents and editors are people too. They have husbands, wives, boyfriends, girlfriends, sisters, brothers, kids, dogs and cats just like the rest of us. They have to pay their rent or mortgage, grocery shop, compulsively shoe shop (oh, wait–that’s just me), pitch our books to editors or their bosses, and face rejection daily just like we do. So why am I so afraid to talk to these people?
As I recently discovered after spending seven hours in a small airport with an agent, she’s no more intimidating than I make her out to be in my mind. So the next time I wander into a room full of important people and try to convince one or all of them to love my novel, I’m going to think about that agent on the phone with her mother and remember that they hate pitch sessions as much as I do. Maybe we should just relax and talk about…well, American Idol!
Readers, how do you combat your nerves before pitching your story to agents and editors? Have a story to share? The floor is yours.
Photo courtesy Flickr’s Michelle Schantz (Schantzilla)
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I’ve never found the “picture them in their underwear” technique all that helpful. Instead, like you, I try to picture their humanity. I try to remember that they’re just like me, in a lot of ways. And that not only makes them less intimidating, that also gives me something to connect to.
Great post, girl! And good luck. :)
Thanks for writing this, Christy.
Regarding the whole, “Agents are people too,” thing: I attended a pre-conference workshop with Rebecca Oliver at the Writer’s League of Texas Agents Conference this past June. Before the workshop, I heard a few people talking about how nervous they were about pitching to agents and even the workshop that was about to start.
When Rebecca stood up to begin the workshop, everybody got quiet. She didn’t begin with telling us how only a select few will ever make it as writers; instead, she apologized to us all, saying something along the lines of, “I get really nervous speaking before groups like this. I apologize if it takes a few minutes for me to get comfortable and really get moving. It will happen, and this will be a good workshop in a few minutes after I get over my initial fears of speaking before a group that are always there.”
It was a very comforting way to begin a conference, having an agent confess that she too gets nervous speaking to people.
The general feeling I got at the conference was that agents understand people are going to be nervous speaking to them, and they are very good at trying to put people pitching to them at ease.
I haven’t had to do this yet. I know I’ll be really nervous, though! Any kid of public speaking is scary for me. I can only imagine it’d be much worse when you’re trying to get others to love the work you put your whole heart and soul into.
Great post, and good luck with everything, Christy!
This post had me nodding in agreement. I’ve had pitch sessions that were . . . well, let’s just call them humbling. But I ultimately got an offer of representation from an agent I met in an impromptu pitch session. Frankly, I don’t remember actually pitching her. What I remember is talking about our kids’ hockey try-outs. And I think that’s what you’re getting at the end of your post. Agents aren’t monsters. They’re regular people, many of them working parents, working on commission! Now THAT’s something to make anyone’s palms sweat!
I remember all too well the nerves that would hit me before pitching to agents and editors; that fear paralyzed me for at least one entire conference. You’re absolutely right, of course–agents are people too, with moms and dogs and their own issues to contend with.
Thanks for being with us, Christy!
Pitches are always bitches, what? But, just like a job interview, it must be approached as a two-way interview with the idea foremost in mind that the person to whom you are talking has some form of problem they need solved and YOU might just might be the answer. If it is a job interview, they need talent they don’t have. If an agent/publisher, they need a salable property they don’t have. It is simply a matter of matching their need to your offering. Your interview is to ask the right questions to determine their exact need and show them your solution to their problem. A match? Voila! If not, on to the next.
I haven’t had to do this with agents yet (not at that point in my writing journey), but I have had to moderate author panels at local literary festivals and had the same sort of thoughts and intimidation beforehand. “These people are published! What if they see me as a big phony trying to get on their good side even though I don’t plan to mention my writing? What if they’re just way too smart for me to converse with?”
Nope, they’re just people. They go grocery shopping and spend too much time on Facebook and have the same bodily functions as the rest of us. Likewise, they have families, hopes, dreams, and are just humans. It takes a lot of the fear and pressure away to remember that.
This is one reason I’m grateful I’ve been able to attend Nationals, or my local RWA dinners when we’ve hosted agents and editors. There’s nothing like exposure to understand they are people too.