Bonfire of the Vanity Plates

While I was pumping gas late on Friday night, a man in the car behind me got out and walked over. 

“So…you write books?”

My license plate is a dead giveaway.

Self-explanatory

“I do.” I said.  Not entirely certain where this was headed.  Over the years, the plate has been an introduction to a wealth of fascinating people at red lights and in parking lots.  It has also brought along a fair share of characters rivaling anything I have ever created in any story.

“How’s that paying off for you?  Can’t be well if you’re pumping your own gas.”

Before I could I respond, the passenger side door of his car opened and teenage boy appeared.

“My son thinks he wants to be a writer,” using his head to point back towards him.  “Poetry.” 

While I don’t talk a great deal around people I’m not familiar with, I have gotten quite versed at reading situations.  It was clear the father wasn’t a fan of his son being writer and even less of it being a writer of poetry.  I suddenly felt as though I was being used as an example.  As if being a writer and pumping my own gas was meant to dissuade his son from following his passion.

"You're a writer!  Confess!  Confess!!!"

I wanted to point out he was also filling his own tank.  Sadly, my response is often tempered by fears of someone killing me – perhaps even fatally!

I encouraged the son to stick with it.  As I had mentioned in a previous post, I’m envious of those who are able to convey so much imagery in so few lines.  From that brief encounter, I’m certain he has plenty of material at home to work with.  #teenangst

It's Hard to Network in the Corner

The annual Writer’s Digest Conference kicks off on Thursday in New York City.  I’m reaching for my fidget cube as I type that.

I love my fidget cube!

As a writer, you spend a great deal of time alone.  Alone inside your own head, alone with your keyboard or notebook, sometimes alone even in a room full of people.  By nature, many of us are introverts.  As if rushing about getting everything ready for the conference isn’t stressful enough, the mere thought of attending the conference can be physically exhausting.  For someone who finds social situations challenging, they can be quite a drain.

What it feels like as I get ready.

I have no issue walking into a large conference room, sitting down, and listening to the presenters.  I’m excited to see Donald Maass, Jane K. Cleland, and Paula Munier.  They are some of the best in the business.  It’s the surrounding elements I’m not fond of.  The small talk with other attendees before each session begins.  Having to share my own thoughts or ideas with the group.  And cue the high school flashbacks as I spend my lunch hour alone while it feels like everyone else instantly bonded and became fast friends.

I loved high school *so* much, I didn't return for twenty-five years.  And made certain it was closed when I went.

Old Homer High

It’s certainly not the people themselves that make it unenjoyable - it’s me.  I’m not good at small talk.  A co-worker actually offered to make me index cards with questions and appropriate responses.  On any given day, if someone asks me how I’m doing, I would say “good” and move on.  Apparently, that should be followed up with “How are you doing?”  Normally, I wouldn’t ask.  They asked me a question, I answered.  Exchange complete.

It reminded me of Romana and K9 in an episode of Doctor Who.  She asks a question, K9 asks for clarification, she gives him an instruction, and he takes it…literally.  I imagine I’m mentally wired in the same way.

You can watch the clip here.

Why am I am prattling on about all of this?  Maybe you’re headed to this conference, or a conference, or to a birthday party where you’ll know exactly no people.  Know that you aren’t alone in your anxiety and do all you can to push through it.  

I can count on one hand the other attendees I spoke with at the conference last year.  Of those, I keep in contact with one.  She is an awesome one to keep in contact with, by the way.  BUT…a huge part of these conferences is to network and meet other writers.  Sadly, that is something I missed out on last year because I let my anxiety get the best of me.  Don't let the same happen to you!  Remember - you've paid for the conference, so get your moneys worth!  The sessions and pitching are important, but don't neglect the networking.  It has the potential to open unlimited doors for you.

My goal this year to meet as many people as possible and to step out of the shadows.  I’ll do a running recap of each conference day here to let you know how it’s going.  If you are reading this and see me there, be certain to say hello!  I’d love to add you to my tally and my contacts.

I’m feeling intrepid at the moment.  Hopefully it will last upon my arrival and I won’t myself lurking in the corner like Mike in the Blair Witch Project.

Hopefully this will NOT be me again this year.

How do you overcome your social anxiety?  Will you be attending the Writer’s Digest Conference this year?  Let me know in the comments section below.

Ready for the First Pitch

We may be in the midst of baseball season, but there will be no peanuts, popcorn, or Cracker Jacks in this update. 

MMMmmm...Cracker Jacks!

While many are looking forward to a summer afternoon at the ball park, there’s only one pitch writers from around the world are interested in — the one they’ll be making as they venture to New York City for the annual Writer's Digest Conference.

The Annual Writer's Digest Conference

Aside from sessions geared towards learning the craft and opportunities to network with other authors, the conference provides you an opportunity to participate in something they call a Pitch Slam.  If you aren’t familiar with the term, it’s basically speed dating for authors and agents.

Will you find the agent of your dreams?

I won’t be covering the architecture of the actual pitch today.  There are several hundred books, blogs, and webinars to guide you through creating the magical blend of words to interest an agent.  I want to talk about the experience itself.  If you haven’t been through it, it can feel incredibly overwhelming.  As a primer, here’s the CliffsNotes version of what you can expect…

The layout.  It's normally held in a large conference room with tables lining the outside walls.  Sometimes agents will be sitting in alphabetical order sometimes not.  You will be given a map of the room with the positions of the agents in advance of the pitching session.  Review the map and know where you want to go!  Don’t waste your valuable time in the session attempting to locate agents.  You want to be pitching! Not wandering about as if you were looking for Waldo.

Study the map!  Don't waste valuable time looking for Waldo.

A line will form a good hour before the session.  As intimidating as the line will feel, don’t panic!  The sessions at WDC run incredibly smooth.  Once the door opens, it is NOT a Black Friday-ish stampede.  I normally get into line about thirty minutes before it kicks off.  It allows me some last minute mental prep.  

When the doors open, it will NOT be anything like this.

People will file in and fan out to assorted agents.  Again — know who you want to talk to and where they are in the room!  If one of your choices is two deep with authors, scan the room.  Because you’ve studied the layout you’ll be able to spot your other choices.  If they are alone or have no line, it may make sense to move.

Do.  Not.  Be.  A.  Robot.  When you reach the agent, shake hands and introduce yourself.  I always ask them how they are doing and how I appreciate them taking the time to be there.  Then slide into your pitch.  “Thank you so much for taking the time to be here.  I wanted to speak with you about my novel – The Stockings Were Hung.  An 85,000 word mystery…” 

Don't be a robot!  Be YOU.

Do not sit down and simply rattle off your pitch.  Starting off in a more conversational tone brings their attention in and allows you to make that personal connection.

THE ADVANTAGES.

Advance to Go.  In the traditional search for an agent, you follow guidelines posted on their website.  You send off your query and hope for the best.  Imagine the submissions a quality agent receives on a daily basis.  It is incredibly difficult to stand out from the pack.  During the Pitch Slam, you have live face time and are able to make a personal connection.  

If they request more information and materials, it gets you to the top of what’s known as the slush pile (that stack of daily submissions they receive).  The agent may give you an identifying number or ask you to include something along the lines of “WDC17 Pitch Slam” in the subject line of your E-mail submission.  That’s basically an express pass to the top of the stack! 

Practice makes perfect.  If this is your first time pitching, pitch your heart out!  If you stumble over your words, that’s okay!  Agents know you’re going to be nervous.  Some authors will enter the room and immediately head to their 1^st choice.  I highly recommend against doing that – especially if you haven’t pitched before.  Start with your 3^rd choice.  It will allow you to get the ‘first pitch jitters’ out of the way and make talking with your 1^st and 2nd choices considerably smoother.

Feedback.  Even if you do not get a single request to send along anything further, you will have experienced the process first hand.  Pay attention to any feedback the agent has to offer while chatting.  THESE ARE NOT THE ONLY AGENTS ON THE PLANET.  Receive their words with an open mind and you’ll be better off on your next pitching event or query submission.

THE DANGERS.  

The first pitch.  It can be a great relief or throw you off your entire game.  Imagine the pressure of practicing, waiting in that line, and walking up to meet the first agent you’ve ever pitched to — only to have them respond with a thanks, but no thanks.  Now you have to walk away from the table, the hour clock still ticking down, and immediately move on to your next selection.  All the while second guessing everything contained within your pitch, your work, and yourself.  

Rejection happens!  You have to be open to positive and negative experiences.  If you’ve followed my blog, you know that negative doesn’t mean bad.  It may not be the outcome you hoped for, but is certainly an invaluable learning experience.  If you get a rejection out of the gate, file it away.  Move on to the next agent as if you were starting over again.  And the next agent.  And the next agent.  You don’t need them all to say yes - you need the right one to say yes!

Rejection in general.  I once witnessed a gentlemen at the conference having a considerable breakdown after a rejection.  He was shaking, sobbing (quite loudly), and muttering to himself.  Another attendee took time she could have been pitching to console him and give him a pep talk.  I admired her for doing so.  

His response wasn’t all the different than one you’d see on any given television reality talent competition.  Think of the pitch as an audition where you have previous few moments to impress the judges.  How many singers or dancers have you seen leave the audition room in tears?  In this case, it can be even harder on a writer.  It isn’t one and done – that was simply one pitch of half a dozen or more you’ll go through over the sixty minute session.  

You have to be able to walk it off on the way to your next agent.  Pretend it’s a dry erase board.  Wipe it away and be ready to go as the next three minutes kicks in.  Repeat if needed.

It’s not you, it’s your…pitch?  Getting handed a rejection may not be a representation of your work, but your pitch.  You may have the most fantastic book ever written, but if your pitch isn’t strong it may never see the light of day.  Hone, hear, and harmonize.  Hone that pitch before heading to Pitch Slam.  Hear how the agents are responding.  What component isn’t appealing to them?  Harmonize that with what they are looking for on your next opportunity.  If you’re fast on your feet, you may be able to tweak as you go from agent to agent.

Once the hour is complete, allow yourself some time to decompress.  It can be mentally taxing — especially for so many writers who are natural introverts.  Chat with other writers.  Review any notes you may have taken.  In the end, this is a mere sixty minutes of your very long writing career.

Ready for that first pitch?  Want to share your pitching experiences?  Let me know in the comments section down below.