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. .
Hi Galen,
Has anyone ever mentioned that you look very much like Harrison Ford? No? Yeah, I didn’t think so (maybe it’s the hat) :)
Nice post. You really captured the tension that an aspiring writer feels facing an agent who’s just looking to reject the next poor slob. Can’t wait to read tomorrow’s tips on how to turn that all around.
I’m looking forward to Part 2, – in the meantime, I am going to buy some new shoes!
Elizabeth here….sadly, I wasn’t kidnapped by pirates. :) Great post, Galen–thanks so much for it. My palms got sweaty just reading it!
Galen-I think you did a very nice job guest hosting. I love your self-deprecating humor. I can’t wait to see the RIGHT way, because this is one of the things that terrifies me. My book is complex and the idea of summing it up in a nice neat paragraph causes panic…
Galen, you’re a hoot. You made presenting a bad pitch funny. I’ll be back tomorrow. Gonna go do a spit shine on my Crocs so I’ll be ready.
Helen
Straight From Hel
After laughing my ass off at your opening…(This is, of course, a turn or phrase. My substantial Italian asset is still behind me.)..I felt my stomach actually clench at your nightmare scenario. Good idea to present the worse case–like boot camp drill sergeants love to for new recruits. No kidding – Good to know rejection happens, the way it happens, what it feels like, so you can pick yourself up and move along, do it better next time. Looking forward to tomorrow…
~Cleo
http://CoffeehouseMystery.com – Happy Birthday, Raymond Chandler – Finally posted my annual tribute essay! (The man didn’t get his first story published until the age of 45. Back then, pitching an agent wasn’t his isssue, but impressing a pulp editor definitely was.)
Great post. Made me laugh. I’m eager to read part two. Makes me nervous just thinking about it! Pitching in person, I mean. Not your post. I’m sure your post will be lovely.
New shoes are key, Jane. Just make sure they’re polished! I have it on good authority that, “It’s the shoes.”
It’s just a real honor to be part of your blog, Elizabeth. There are such high standards here. A couple days departure from that won’t hurt, huh?
Yeah, short, on-target summaries are tough, Hart. I’m thinking there’s gonna be some information about summaries you’ll be able to use in tomorrow’s post. Thanks for stopping in.
Spit-shined Crocs. I’d of just never thought of those two things together. That’s why you’re a clever writer, Helen. Good job. Hope to see you on Saturday.
Well, Cleo, you made ME laugh! Very funny comment. Unfortunately, rejection is a sad fact of life—98 percent of the time, I read. Shirley puts some perspective on it tomorrow. Please, do visit again. We’d love to see you.
Alan, you are the funniest guy. No, not Harrison Ford. A gym rat buddy told me I looked more like Robert Di Niro. Hmmm. Not sure that’s a real big compliment. But, since I neither get–nor deserve compliments–it’s Okay. Thanks for making this easy for me with a great lead-in post from Thursday. You’re a tough act to follow.
Katie, smiles and laughter are important. I’m glad we were able to bring you a few of both. Saturday is all business; bring your note taking materials…lots to absorb.
Thanks to you all for stopping by and the kind comments. Galen
Imagineering Fiction Blog
Loved your post! Normally, I shy away from long ones–but you kept me there –feeling that poor guy’s emotion all the way through it. I have not yet pitched anything in person as of yet. A coward. SO I will enjoy reading part two!
Great post. Looking forward to part two tomorrow. Hey, I heard that rogue wormhole who’s been stalking Elizabeth swallowed her up. Should have got that restraining order on it. Hope you make it back soon, Elizabeth.
–Teri, I know exactly what you mean about long posts. They’re, well, not *longed* for my reading. However, I’m sure glad you stuck around for this one. As a heads-up, Saturday’s post is about the same length, but packed full of useful stuff and only about 5 lines…I don’t dare call them sentences…from me. You’ll enjoy, I promise.
–Steve, I’m not sure where Elizabeth has vaporized to, but, E=MC2 will probably bring her back. Maybe you and your friend Albert should get, “on the case.”
–Julie, it’s good to know that Facebook efforts brought in at least one visitor. Glad you got a chuckle out of this post. Tomorrow is some news you can use…I do hope you’re able to come back.
Again, Thanks to each of you, and if there are any late arrivals…Patricia where are you??? I’m sorry I missed you. But want to see everyone on Saturday.
Best regards, Galen
Really entertaining post! I was drawn here from FaceBook, which showed your photo and that of the scary black dude. Not having seen your photo before, I had to come here to see which is which.
I’ll definitely come back tomorrow – now why don’t you come stop by my blog as well? I just wrote about Print-on-Demand.
Julie Lomoe’s Musings Mysterioso
http://julielomoe.wordpress.com
Galen and Elizabeth in ONE shot?! Nice to see your styles intertwine here :)
Nice post by Galen, but it unfortunately brought back the anxiety and humiliation of my first agent pitch. I survived, as you can see. Now on to read part two.