In my jeans and tank top, gargoyle tattoos hanging out,
mohawked hair and with my hastily scribbled notes clutched in my sweaty hands, I
went to my first pitch appointment with an editor of a big publishing company.
I was ill prepared. I’d had just left a pitch workshop an hour earlier and
heard the stellar pitches given by well-prepared women in snappy business
suits. The message I’d gotten from the workshop was dress well, be
professional. Um... zero for two. The rest of the information didn’t get past
the loud ringing that developed in my ears.
Why had I signed up for something so stressful?
Oh wait... I hadn’t.
Leia Shaw, one of my writing partners-in-crime, had signed
me up without my knowledge and was urging me to try, even though I had no idea
how to explain my book. Apparently self-deprecating humor isn’t acceptable
pitch fodder, so I just stuck to trying to explain what it was about in my
notes.
I was directed into the room, trembling and short of breath,
and directed to sit across from an elegant young woman who was probably fifteen
years my junior. She smiled kindly, probably hoping I didn’t pass out on her
table or throw up in her lap.
I was introduced by name.
Shit!
My name was my big opening line – I had nothing else prepared!
I’m um-ed for a moment then repeated my name like an idiot
parrot, since deviating from my notes had made me stall. I read them to her at
light speed, desperately trying to slow down and failing miserably. She nodded
sympathetically a few times and I was glad she didn’t look completely terrified
of me, at least. I had the feeling that I was coming off a little – intense.
When I finally slid to a halt at the end of my spiel, she
paused a moment and asked if there were any sexy bits in the book.
Um... had I neglected to mention that the book was erotic
bdsm lgbt polyamorous during the hot bits? Oops. I got through that short
explanation, and her smile broadened. She gave me her card. The company had a
new digital imprint that was willing to take risks on cross-genre and edgy
books, and she would be happy to see the first fifty pages whenever it was
ready.
I stammered my thanks and staggered out of the room (trying
to look composed and nonchalant), clutching her business card. Leia was waiting
for me outside the door, grinning, and she admitted she’d been eavesdropping.
Even if this contact goes nowhere, or I decide to
self-publish this one, too, it was an interesting experience. Because it had a
relatively positive outcome (although I know most people who pitch get a
similar response) I didn’t have to spank my co-author for signing me up.
Although if I *had* gone to the other pitch she signed me up for with the editor
looking for inspirational romance...
