I just took a look at my schedule for this weekend’s conference in Madison, and yowza, I’ll be spending a lot of time in pitch sessions. This spurs excitement and anxiety in authors and agents alike. We’re excited to find new potential clients, but as with the slush pile, we often have to wade through an impressive number of unimpressive, disjointed, or sometimes creepy pitches to get there. Although I could go on forever about pitching tips, here are a few quick ones to help you sharpen up and get your project requested.
Do:
Decide which agents to pitch before you attend. The conference website will list attending agents and usually their desired genres. If you need more info (and I recommend doing this anyway), research each agent online. Bonus points if they mention a recent specific desire for your genre on their website, blog, social media, etc. Take notes, rank the agents, make a list, and bring it with you.
Don’t:
Decide when you get there. The conference program is a great resource, but it isn’t always as up to date as the agent’s various online postings. Also, conferences can be overwhelming. You might be too distracted or pressured to make an accurate judgment. And if you’re sitting in a corner, scribbling on the program, you’re missing out on important learning/networking time and allowing other attendees to secure your desired agents’ appointments.
Do:
Let the agent know you’ve done your homework. As with your query, it helps to start off your pitch by mentioning an expressed genre the agent is seeking (bonus points for using the same phrasing the agent uses) or a book the agent represented that shares similarities with your work. And make sure you’ve read that book. Few things are worse than an uninformed, uncalled for comparison.
Don’t:
Assume that because you think the agent is a good match, the agent will think you’re a good match or will recommend someone who is. Plenty of people will pitch any agent just to pitch an agent, and that wastes everyone’s time. A notable exception is when the conference has set up the session specifically to teach attendees how to pitch for future reference. Then you’re just practicing, and we’re there to help.
Do:
Bring your material to the conference on a laptop, tablet, or flash drive. This enables you to conform to whatever the agent asks for, be it the full manuscript, the first chapter, the first 10 pages, etc. Most conferences are in hotels with or near printing facilities if they absolutely must have a hard copy (most won’t if they have to limit what they carry back on the plane).
Don’t:
Print and bind your manuscript ahead of time. First, it doesn’t need to look pretty. It just needs to read well. Second, that doesn’t allow for agents’ varying preferences. If they ask for 10 pages and you hand them the full, you clearly can’t follow directions, which speaks volumes about what the editing process would be like. Third, often times that printing would be wasted. During the conference, you will likely learn something or find inspiration that makes you want to improve your manuscript before you submit it. Still my favorite compliment at a conference is, “I signed up to pitch you on Sunday, but now I want to go home and just write.”
Do:
Find out how long the pitch sessions are and practice before you show up. Even then, practice several different types of pitches: the elevator pitch (best to have a good one-line), the “speed dating” session (usually 2-5 minutes), and the casual conversation (in case you’re seated next to an agent at lunch). You want to be able to take advantage of every opportunity you’ll be presented with.
Don’t:
Think 5 minutes means 5 minutes for you to talk. Give us a chance to ask questions. We’ll have them.
Do:
Make your pitch concise and organized. A query letter is a good initial reference point. Hook me, tell me about the book, and tell me why you’re the person to write it.
Don’t:
Go on about what inspired you to write the book. It may have been profound to you, but unless it ties directly into a significant marketing opportunity, we’d much rather spend the time getting to know what you’ve written.
Do:
Memorize your pitch. If you sit down and read your query letter or hand it to me to read during the session, you aren’t taking advantage of the interactivity of the pitch session. You’ve disconnected, and I could have just read your emailed query.
Don’t:
Recite your memorized pitch. If you sit down, your eyes glaze over, and you start in a lilting voice, “Imagine a world when…” I feel like I could go refill my coffee and neither of us would miss anything. I don’t need to be there if you won’t be there. Again, I could have just read your emailed query.
Do:
Read your entire manuscript one more time before you attend.
Don’t:
Think that just because you’ve been kicking it around for 10 years and tweaking bits here and there that you can pull out any information at the drop of the hat. It’s a huge (and common) red flag when an author appears to not have thorough knowledge of what they’ve written.
Do:
Realize that we’re people, too. That means conform to social norms. Most folks would get a bit weirded out if you shouted, pounded on the table, slipped them semi-nude photos, followed them into the restroom, offered bribes, etc.
Don’t:
Be nervous. We’re all there because we share a common interest. Let’s sit down and chat.
