By J.A. (Julie) Kazimer
In a few short days, August 18th to be precise, my tenth book, THE LADY IN PINK, will be released. Yes. 10 whole, big books. I can’t hardly believe it.
Don’t stop read!
I am not bragging nor am I trying to subliminally mind control you into buying it
*buy my book, buy my book, buy my book* Okay, maybe that time I was. Can’t blame an author for trying…
Anyway, my post has a much more important and relevant to you, I hope, point.
Though I’ve had 10 books published since 2010 when I sold my first series to Kensington at the CO Gold Conference, which, in case you missed it, is ONE MONTH AWAY as of today, I still feel that twisty, sickening feeling in the pit of my stomach at the thought of pitching to an editor.
Which I will be doing at this conference.
For the first time in over 3 years.
If anyone says it’s like riding a bike, they are LIARS.
Or maybe they aren’t. I was never any good at not falling off a bike either.
The very thought of having to tell someone about my book in 30 words of less or at all gives me the willies. Why can’t they just read it, love it, and pay me millions?
I plan (if she’s not full already) to pitch to Chelsey Emmelhainz, Associate Editor at HarperCollins. Now the question is, what to pitch? And how to do it? I need to stand out, to make her love me in the first 3 seconds (no pressure). Bribery is nice. Maybe she’d like a cookie? Or $5?
Maybe I shouldn’t pitch.
Maybe I shouldn’t even be a writer.
Yep, you are witnessing my nervous breakdown in blog post form.
Lucky you.
I hope I don’t throw up on her.
I should bring a vomit bag just in case.
If you didn’t get my point in all my neurotic rambling, it is this, no matter how many times or how many books someone has, they are writers at heart. Meaning they are half desperate, crazy and unsure with equal parts terrified of failure. Can’t forget sweaty. We are a sweaty people.
Oh, that’s just me, huh? Sure it is….
The key to surviving the next month as terror sets in at having to pitch, is to remember, Chelsey Emmelhainz probably won’t stab me in the eye with her pen. I think HarperColllins frowns on that. But maybe not.
So if you see me at the conference wearing an eye patch, well, you know what occurred at my pitch session. Same if you see her walking around with cookie crumbs on her shirt and me with a huge smile on my face. If I see you, please tell me all about how yours went. I love to hear practice pitches too. Sharing is caring after all.
Or share your pitch in the comments.
See you all in a month.
And remember–buy my book, buy my book, buy my book—to smile, shake the editor/agents hand, and give them all you’ve got.
Come stalk me on my shiny new website or on facebook, where I spend most of my writing time.
How about I come with you and pitch for you. You sit quietly and smile politely and tell Chelsey how great you are.
You are so on, Shannon. I will even buy you a cookie after.
OK, so I’m thinking you and I should pool our resources, money wise, so we can come up with at least $10, and then we flip a coin or arm wrestle or something to see who actually pitches. Or we just lock the editors up in a bathroom stall and keep shoving manuscripts under the door until they agree to sign us?
I’m down with the bathroom stall thing. We could pay Shannon the $10 and make her pitch for both of us.
Yes, pitching is a blast….I’ll never forget the first time I pitched to a New York agent who had a violent allergy attack as soon as she hit town. While I tried to pitch, she paced back and forth, sneezing and dripping, obviously hating Denver, Colorado Gold, and me. Then she made a snarky comment about my choice of employment for my main character. It took two years for me to gather the courage to try again.
I’ve signed up to pitch this year too….some of us never learn. 😀
That’s terrible. We are sadists, and not in the fun way. Let’s form a self-help group.
OK — will its purpose be to encourage pitching and teach us to be comfortable….or make us just stop it forever?