Pitching an Agent in Person…Part II

Hi, Friends. Welcome back. Yesterday we looked at the lighter side of agent pitching in person. Today is all business. We continue with Shirley Kennett, the 2009 ThrillerFest Chair of the International Thriller Writers organization. Shirley’s post resumes below. It’s packed with useful, practical information you can actual use. Let’s get to it…

Your Agent pitching experience need not be a disaster. Of course you’re nervous. You’ve waiting months for this, your stomach is flip-flopping to one degree or another, and you feel like your personal worth is on the line.

So the first piece of advice is this: Rejection isn’t personal. When an agent says no, he’s saying that your work is not right for him. Nothing more, nothing less. It’s not an appraisal of your writing because—check the interaction (from yesterday) carefully—the agent hasn’t actually seen any of your writing.

Let’s talk about what you need to accomplish when you pitch, and then we’ll break down each of those things in detail. I like to start with this:

Sell your story + Sell your character + Sell yourself = Successful Pitch!

Sell your story

Every thriller story has heat in it, by which I mean the parts that truly excite a reader and therefore an agent or editor. What you want to talk about when you first sit down for your pitch is heat, heat, heat and nothing else about your story. The rest can come later in conversation with the agent.

So what is heat? Heat is the concept of your story expressed in a few sentences, or even a few words. Think sound bytes. This is heat:

—A forensics expert has just hours to unlock the secrets of a decade-old murder and untangle greed, incest, and evil to save the life of the woman he loves.

—A woman flees into the Ethiopian wilderness with a baby whose birth was foretold by ancient legends, and struggles against the hostile land and pursuing enemies to save a child destined to unite warring tribes.

—A CIA agent discovers that deep cover terrorist cells in different countries are receiving directions via typos inserted in online and print publications to launch a dirty bomb attack in six hours—somewhere.

—A man kidnaps the son he believes is a cult member and takes him to an isolated spot for deprogramming. Instead, in a psychological twist, the man succumbs to the cult and becomes enmeshed in violence and a plot to assassinate a presidential candidate.

These pitches are a little long and could certainly use some polishing and tightening. I just made them up, but you’ve been working with a story you’re very enthusiastic about for months, so you should be able to come up with a hot opening. They all include a beginning, middle, and an end (or a strong hint of an end) in 45 words or less. Typical speaking time is about 15 seconds, if you have it memorized. And you will need to memorize your pitch.

Something that may get you started thinking is to do What If exercises. Think of your story in terms of “What if blah blah blah, only to discover that blah blah blah.”

For example:
—What if a detective works on a case originating 20 years ago, only to discover that his life closely parallels that of the victim…will history repeat?

—Or one from a book of mine: What if a woman sold her soul to a demon only to discover that 300 years later she wants it back?

These could make excellent pitches all by themselves. Your What If might be an excellent one sentence tag line for your book, meaning a line that gets repeated over and over like you are branding yourself. (You are beginning to do so right from the git-go.

Sell your character

Once past talking about your story idea, be prepared to talk about a few of the characters in your book, definitely the protagonist and villain. You need to convey your characters’ unique slant on life that distinguishes them from 1001 other protagonists and villains—and why they fit into your story so well.

Mention the setting of your book, since it has such a bearing on the story. Try not to make this a dry recital. Instead, have a few practiced descriptions in mind. Here’s an example that gives an agent a lot of information about your characters and is interesting rather than dry.


PJ Gray is forty-one, a psychologist, a newly-single mother, and pioneer in the field of forensic computer simulation working in St. Louis. She’s professional on the outside, a little vulnerable on the inside, intuitive, quick-witted, and struggling with the gap in respect that cops have for those who aren’t in the Job. Her senior investigator, Detective Schultz, has been saved from premature retirement by her program. He’s skeptical, curmudgeonly, not above bending the law in a good cause, extremely dedicated to his work, and will end up much more than a co-worker to PJ.

Note that this is the opposite of your writing, where you would show all this personality rather than tell it. In a pitch, you are in tell, not show mode. Character is extremely important. No matter how good your story idea sounds, if it is peopled by the dull dregs of the earth, an agent isn’t going to like it. There has to be some visible potential for conflict, interaction, and growth shown in your characters. The agent may ask questions about them. You’re supposed to know them well, so make sure it shows.

Other points to convey: your manuscript is finished and ready for review; the word count (85,000-110,000 could be typical—if significantly longer or shorter, you’ll need to discuss why); some subplots if there’s time, to show the depth of the story.

Sell yourself

An agent isn’t just showing interest in a story, he has to have confidence in your professionalism and has to be able to see you as a person he can work with in a long-term business relationship. Your agent does not have to be your dearest friend, but there has to be enough compatibility to make things work between you.

Show yourself off as a professional. Dress like you would for a job interview. That means business casual clothing at least. That automatically puts you ahead of the poor guy who didn’t get the message and finds himself the only person there in cutoff jeans with holes in strategic places and a Trekkies Forever t-shirt and flip-flops. In general, NY is a dressier town than most. A lot of the agents will be coming directly from their offices, dressed for work. Guys, at least pack the khakis and a collared shirt. Ladies, you know the drill.

Be prepared with a brief, non-wandering bio of yourself. If you have any special reasons why you are able to write your legal thriller or spy novel or military thriller with authenticity because you’ve been there and done that, now is the time to get that across.

If you have any publishing credits, be sure to mention them. If you don’t, don’t raise the subject unless asked.

Come prepared with business cards, and make the best use of them by putting the right information on. Don’t use your day job business cards (unless you have a really, really prestigious day job). On the front of the card, put a photo of yourself if you’re comfortable with that. Name, contact info (no home address needed), and your one line tag line for your book. No fancy script fonts that aren’t easily readable, no neon orange cards, just a businesslike approach. On the back of the card, if you want to include it, provide a longer description of your story, maybe four or five sentences.

Some agents will take your card, some won’t be interested. Don’t press. The reason for the photo on the card is this. One of the great things about pitching at conferences is the personal rapport that can develop very quickly. Your business card will help an agent remember not just your name, but put a face to that name, and a few words about your book to jog his memory. When you do make a submission after the conference, be sure to include your card as a refresher of your identity.

Also bring with you a one page synopsis, actually 3/4 of a page, because the bottom 1/4 should be a brief bio. Have this available, offer it if the agent is interested, and again don’t press. Should you bring something longer? Since you’re going to be carrying around the conference tote bag (looks like a small briefcase) anyway, you might as well put a full synopsis (5-10 pages) and the first 50 pages of your manuscript in there. This is something that you could mention you have, but don’t expect a lot of takers. The idea here is for the agent to say yes or no to your pitch and if yes, request a submission of additional material after the conference. You’ll be told what type of submission and if it should be by email or hard copy. Start working on your one page and full synopses early. They are difficult to write well, and not something to be dashed off at the last minute.

I want to end with some inspiring success stories from previous AgentFests. Here they are:

Jenny Smith: http://www.thrillerwriters.org/thrillerfest/2009/02/agentfest-gets-results.html

Mary-Frances Makichen: http://www.thrillerwriters.org/thrillerfest/2008/10/agentfest-scores.html

Graham Brown and Jamie Freveletti: http://www.thrillerwriters.org/thrillerfest/2008/04/it-could-happen-to-you-at-agentfest.html

Great points, Shirley. I learned a bunch. Hope you found something worthwhile as well.

Shirley can be reached at: infocentral@thrillerwriters.org

Pitching an Agent in Person…Yikes!

I’ll take a cue from Alan’s very informative post of yesterday…Hello. I’m Galen Kindley, and yes, it takes grit to stick my picture up there. Ugh. Rather than bore you with my non-history, here’s a link to my Bio page. BUT, trust me, save yourself the trouble. Just stay here; it’s not worth the mouse click. I’m the world’s most boring person. There’s even an acronym for it: TWMPB. So, stay where you are. You’ll have more fun and discover news you can actually use.

So, where the heck is Elizabeth? Captured by Mediterranean pirates? Ha. She wishes. No, turns out Elizabeth is bonded to a brutal schedule. What’s that Bob Seger line about, Deadlines and commitments? Well, she has plenty of those. But, being the trooper she is, she wants to keep her very fine blog up and running. Accordingly, she’s asked some extraordinarily talented bloggers—and one ringer–to stand in for her. Yep, you guessed it…I’m the ringer. Your lucky day. Elizabeth has a soft heart for stray dogs and the hopelessly indigent. Only way I can explain my presence.

Nonetheless, I hold Elizabeth in high regard and don’t want to sully her Blog with my unkempt drivel. What to do? How to act? What to say? Naturally, I looked for an internet answer. It is, after all, today’s oracle at Delphi. I found a post at the highly respected ProBlogger about, “How to be A Good Guest Blogger.” I ignored it. Too much trouble. Back to square one. Hmmm. I can’t actually write interesting or entertaining copy, so that’s out. Desperation loomed.

Then, it struck me! Since I am without principle or scruples, I looked about the internet for some quality work I could steal plagiarize, bootleg, copy present. After some digging, I came upon the very interesting post below by Shirley Kennett, the 2009 ThrillerFest Chair of the International Thriller Writers organization. Bingo! Front row seats.

As my attention increasingly turns toward writing conventions, and as I’m always interested in landing an agent, Shirley’s post seemed timely. I read it. Liked it. Thought you might like it, too. Conscience did get the better of me. I actually spoke with Shirley about “presenting” her post. She graciously authorized a reprint.

The article is a bit longer than I normally post, but, the content is so good, it merits the space. What I’ll do is present it in two parts. Today’s part is shorter and deals with how an agent should NOT be pitched. On Saturday, I’m hoping you’ll find your way back here for part two, the meat of the information…the correct way to do things.

So, let’s take a look at how not to accomplish your mission. (Your computer screen fades to black, then returns with you standing in a semi-dark hallway, outside an office door, in a far away town, in a hotel to which you’ve never before been. You’re…gulp…waiting your turn to see an agent. You made an appointment. You’re committed. You can’t run. You can’t hide. You’re stuck.

On the good side, you’re nattily dressed. You’re hair is neatly combed. You’re teeth are recently polished. Oh dear, but not the shoes. Doesn’t matter, you’re not gonna put your feet on the agent’s desk….nor your teeth, probably. You slap yourself, trying to stop the silliness pinging about your brain.

The door opens. A man in tears walks dejectedly through the door. He stumbles past you without an acknowledgement. Before you can react, the sound of your name hangs loudly in the air. Robotically, you step into a small office.

The agent…see mean looking person below…is seated behind a desk looking…well…mean. Glowering might describe him, and why not? He’s heard 25 worthless pitches and it’s not yet noon.
You nod. Maybe he nods in return; maybe it’s your imagination. Definitely your imagination. With a sweaty palmed hand, you reach for a chair adjacent to his desk. You timidly pull it back. It scrapes annoyingly on the floor. The agent cringes. You give a half-heart smile. Your brain shouts, “Oh my God, he’s looking at my shoes!”

Shirley takes you home from here…

You sit down, your manuscript in your white-knuckled grip.

The agent eyes your manuscript skeptically, which increases the pressure of your grip. You wait for the agent to introduce himself and ask what your book is about. There it is, the dreaded question, and it hangs in the air between the two of you.

You’re up. You’re on stage. It’s your big moment. You clear your throat, set the manuscript on the table, and get started.

“Well, my book is about a man who gets involved in some nasty stuff.”

The agent blinks and you realize he hasn’t yet taken the 600 page pile of papers, the sacrificial offering on the table.

“Um, his name is Jason Wired, and at the beginning of the book his wife gets kidnapped.”

“Okay,” the agent says.

“I wrote this book because my niece’s best friend knew someone who got kidnapped, so everything is authentic. When Jason tries to find out who kidnapped his wife, he gets into deep trouble.”

“Why didn’t he go to the police?” the agent asks.

You’re stunned to have a question to answer, especially one that’s a slightly weak point in your story. You avoid eye contact, trying to think of a good answer. “He doesn’t trust the police.”

“Why is that?” the agent says, sitting forward. He must be sensing some meat on the bones of your story.

“Uh, I don’t go into that a lot in the book, but in my notes the reason is his father was a crooked cop. I …”

“I’m not really interested in this type of book,” the agent says.

You feel an opportunity slipping away and make another try. “You don’t understand. This is a great book. All my friends say so. It would be a mistake to pass it up.”

The agent looks beyond you at the next person waiting. “Next, please.”

You get up and begin to slink away, feeling the sting of personal rejection.

“Excuse me,” the agent says. “You forgot your manuscript.”

This is the nightmare version of pitching to an agent in person. Let’s start changing that to a dream scenario instead.

Part Two on Saturday!

Okay, today was kinda for laughs. Tomorrow, we get serious and deal with how this pitching thing is properly done. For example, we’ll look at the formula:

Sell your story + Sell your character + Sell yourself = Successful Pitch!

Shirley breaks each part down, describing how to do each factor properly. I promise plenty of good, practical, useful information. Hey, anyone that uses a formula is seriously serious. As a bonus, there’ll be none—well, not much–of my commentary. Deal? Deal. See you tomorrow, right here on Mystery Writing is MurderIt won’t be the same without you. .

Hello. My Name is…

I love writers’ conferences. So much to learn, so much positive energy, so many good books to discover. But the best thing about writer’s conferences? Hands down, it’s the collection of writers (and readers, and editors, and agents, and…).

DSCF0288 Here are some tips for networking at conferences:

Before the conference
Do your prep work. Effective networking at conferences begins weeks (or months) before the conference. See if there is a list of attendees (authors, editors, agents, fans) posted on the conference website. Go through this list and take note of those people you’d like to meet (make a list if you have to). For those you absolutely, positively must meet, consider emailing them ahead of time to arrange a place to rendezvous. But remember: Nobody likes a stalker!

Get business cards made, if you don’t already have some. There are plenty of inexpensive on-line printers that will do a fine job (I’ve used VistaPrint). Having all your contact info in one convenient “giveaway” beats writing your name, website, blog address, and email address on the hand of the uber-agent you’ve just met. Paraphrasing my grandmother, “Professional is as professional does.”

Stay in the conference hotel. If you can swing it, stay where all the action will take place. Besides being convenient, you’re bound to make friends waiting for the elevator or in the stairwell during the inevitable 3 a.m. fire alarm evacuation. DSCF0289

At the conference
Stick your hand out – often. If you see someone standing alone during a break or at a cocktail hour, introduce yourself. Arrive early to the panels and find an empty seat next to someone. Hang out in the hospitality lounge. Strike up a conversation with anybody who seems interesting. Everyone there is like you–looking to make contacts.

Make it easy to be “met.” Always wear a nametag and display it in a place that’s easy to see. The nametag is the first place my eyes go when I’m meeting someone new–or when I’m searching out people on my “have-to-meet” list. If you write your name on the tag yourself, make sure it’s large and legible.

Don’t hide in your hotel room. You might be an introvert (many writers are), but one of the big reasons you’re at the conference is to meet people. So get out and meet them!

DSCF0291 Visit the book room. Booksellers are authors’ best friends. Meet them, talk with them, be extra nice to them. Buy some books while you’re at it.

Hit the bar. The hotel bar is the place to mingle. Even if you don’t drink, think of the bar as the conference meeting place (albeit with plenty of booze). This is where you can meet the authors you’ve read for all those years and hear tons of great stories. [Hint: keep your wits about you, or your drunken escapades might become the punchlines to their stories the following year.] More business gets done in the bar than anywhere else.

After the conference
Follow-up. Remember all the business cards you passed out? Well, hopefully you collected plenty, too. Follow up with the people you met. Drop them an email saying how nice it was chatting (lie if you need to–you can handle a little fiction, right?). Give them book recommendations, or ideas about getting published, or tips on other great conferences to attend. Stay in touch!

Writers make up a great community. Become part of it!

(Of course, on-line networking is important, too. Friend me on Facebook, follow me on Twitter, and visit my blog. I’m always looking to network with other readers and writers.)

Alan Orloff’s debut novel, DIAMONDS FOR THE DEAD, is slated for April 2010 from Midnight Ink. He blogs at A Million Blogging Monkeys and InkSpot. Visit www.alanorloff.com for more information.

Something New and Different

Food Blog header Sometimes we have to shake things up a little bit in our lives.

I’m doing a lot of that this week. A lot. And, as a person who doesn’t accept change well, it’s been an interesting week. I took off to the mountains with my husband (unheard of.) I was actually able to relax (again…unheard of.) And now (drum roll please)–

Each Thursday I’m going to be posting on mysteries and food on the Mystery Lovers’ Kitchen blog.

I know what you’re thinking. “Elizabeth cooks?”

Riley Adams is a cook. Riley Adams is my pseudonym for Penguin/Berkley. I’m writing the Memphis Barbeque mystery series for them (first book to debut Memorial Day weekend of 2010.)

Yes, all right. Riley and I are the same person and I’m not a cook with a capital C. This will be a fun learning experience for me—the other authors on this blog are wonderful in the kitchen. Just go over there and check out the recipes. I’m excited to be a part of their group, plan to learn a lot, and hope to share what I learned from growing up around some fantastic Southern cooks.

Twitter? We’re there: it’s MysteryLoversKitchen. Facebook? It’s Mystery Lovers Kitchen under groups.

Also, I’m pleased to report that I’m hosting a special series on conventions on Mystery Writing is Murder. Tomorrow, Alan Orloff will be giving us tips to get the most out of our attendance at writing conventions: before, during, and after the conference. On Friday and Saturday, Galen Kindley will explain how to pitch an agent at a convention. I’m really looking forward to reading these posts, since I’m a convention newbie.

Now I’d better go rummage through my recipe box….

Changing Hats

When this post publishes, my husband and I will be on our way to pick up our daughter at Brownie camp. She was only gone for two nights, but since she’s 7, we thought the short stay would prove a good introduction to resident camp. The idea was that she’d go there, love it, not be homesick at all, and then would want to graduate to a weeklong camp next summer.

As luck would have it (okay, it was careful planning), her two-night camp coincided with our son’s weeklong camp.

So my husband and I happily made arrangements to stay at a historic mountain inn in Highlands, North Carolina.

When we arrived at the inn, we were suddenly just us again—no children. Just like when we first married. The inn was picturesque and, when we checked in, we discovered that we were the only guests staying in the entire guest house. Our room had a balcony with rocking chairs. We had a bottle of wine, already chilled. We smiled.

Then my cell phone rang. “Mrs. Craig? It’s the camp nurse. No, no, she’s fine, really. Fine. Don’t worry. It’s just…well. Her braces? They fell out of her mouth during supper. What should I do?”

So…you got it. I’m now 100% thinking about my daughter. Was she upset the braces fell out? Is she okay? How did the darn things come out, anyway?

I immediately had my Mom hat back on. My husband looked completely horrified at the sudden manifestation of the Mom hat. But then I took it off. It was 7:00 p.m. She was three hours away from me. Really, there was nothing I could immediately do. So I made a list of what I should do tomorrow: email my daughter and tell her everything was fine and that—upside!—she now got to eat anything she wanted, and call the dentist and get them to reinstall the appliance as soon as she gets back from camp. For free.

I had to stop myself from wearing the Mom hat.

When I’m writing, I have to stop myself from wearing the editor hat. My tendency is to write for a few pages, stop, frown, and say, “This stinks.”

For me, editing as I go completely messes with my creative flow. I know some folks can write and edit simultaneously, but I’m not one of them.

Ways to get rid of the editor hat (until it’s time to edit):

Highlight the section of the page that’s bothering me so I can find it later.

Jot down ideas for changing the story’s path or the character’s personality. Maybe I don’t like the way John has behaved in the story up to that point. Change it for future text and then edit the previous problem during revisions. Make a note of where in the WIP I took the character or story on a new path.

Don’t read what I’ve already written.

At the end of a writing session, jot down a paragraph-long brief outline of where I want to pick up the next day and how I plan the scene to go. This eliminates the need to read previously-written text to see where I left off (and keeps me from picking it to death.)

Relax. Take a deep breath. Shut up my inner critic. Move on with writing.

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