By Lisa Vallier
Most South Shore writers are aware of the wonderful writer’s group Grub Street based in Boston and with a satellite location on the South Shore at Buttonwood Books. Last year, as I was reading The Rag (Grub Street’s online newsletter), I was drawn to an event called “The 7-minute pitch.” The description of the event was: “Meet with three established agents for seven minutes each. It’s your chance to pitch your work, in-person, to three high-profile agents!”
Of course I jumped at the chance, having had no success querying agents for my novel, FOUR CIRCLES. I clicked on the Website and was taken to The Maine Writers and Publishers Alliance. For $150, I would get to meet with three agents (additional agents were $45 each) and pitch my novel to them. I immediately signed up and began staying up until 2 a.m. editing my manuscript.
Three days before the pitch session, I trekked to my local Staples and had three copies of my 400-page novel printed in the hopes that all three agents would need a copy to bring home with them (stop laughing!).
The pitch session was held at a fancy Boston hotel (the name of which escapes me), beginning at 9 a.m. There were people pacing throughout the lobby; some looked like old pros, while others were practically in tears. Many of them, myself included, carried briefcases or bags with reams of hopeful paper. I approached the women at the check-in desk who were friendly but unable to dole out Valium, which is what I needed at the time.
I looked at my registration sheet. I was in the first group (9 – 9:07), the third (9:16 – 9:23), and a later group (around 10:20).
As eight of us lined up for the first group, I realized the friendly check-in women were very serious about the seven minutes—they even had a gong (reminding me of “The Gong Show,” which didn’t help at all).
As the huge mahogany doors parted, we walked into a large conference room with eight folding tables and eight smiling agents. A wave of relief washed over me. The agents were just people and they really wanted to like our books.
My first pairing was with Jennifer Weltz from the Jean V. Naggar Literary Agency (click on the link: the home page is really telling about an agent’s life). She asked me what my book was about and I gave my standard answer, “It’s about what happens after you die.” That always gets ’em. I then went into my spiel and after three minutes she said she wanted to take a look. I reached for my 400 pages and Jennifer explained she wanted it electronically, of course. Of course. At that point, we had four more minutes with nothing to do…awkward. I couldn’t just get up and walk out the door; everyone else was still talking to their agents. We sat there trying to make small talk, but all I could do was hope I wouldn’t say anything that would change her mind.
Finally, gong. I got up, shook Jennifer’s hand and left smiling so hard I thought someone might punch me. Well, that was easy, I thought. I relaxed in the lobby for the next eight minutes thinking, I’ve got this.
My next group was called and we lined up again. Gong, we were back in. I waved at Jennifer, then sat down across from Helen Zimmermann of the Helen Zimmermann Literary Agency. I’d done my research and knew Helen was an avid mountain climber, so I chatted for a moment about that, then did my pitch. She immediately wanted to read the full manuscript. She, too, said an electronic submission would be fine (why was I carrying around 400 pages of paper?). I now had two minutes left, but the conversation flowed easily and I was left with a wonderful dilemma: If both agents wanted the manuscript who would I choose?
Gong.
I walked back into the lobby and sat next to a woman with her head in her hands.
“How did it go?” she muttered to me.
“Oh fine. They asked for the whole thing,” I said.
“Oh, that’s great. You must be excited,” she said, her eyes lighting up with happiness for me.
“Well, who knows if they’ll like it or not,” I said, knowing modesty is like honey to flies.
“What’s it about?” she asked, and I gave her my standard line.
“I’d read that.” She said. I just smiled thinking, Of course, who wouldn’t?
A few gongs later, my third pitch session lined up. I walked through the door and faced… someone who was not smiling. Her name was Ann Collette with the Helen Rees Literary Agency. She didn’t even say hello; she just asked, “What’ve you got?”
I’ve got two agents who already want the book, I thought to myself, but I gave her the line.
“Interesting,” she said. “Let me see the first chapter.”
I was flustered. I’d resigned myself to the fact that the paper was useless, so I’d put it all back in the box. I quickly pulled the box out as Ann tapped the table. I handed over my pages and she scanned the first page, flipped, and scanned the second.
“You can’t start a book with a dead baby,” she said, handing the pages back to me. “Your writing is fine, but no one is going to buy a book that starts like that.”
Tears sprang to my eyes. “Well, I could move that chapter…”
“No, I just don’t think it will work.”
“Would you look at it if I rearranged it?”
“Not if you send it to me in a few weeks. Rewriting this will take months. If you do the work, then maybe.”
Gong. “OK, thank you.”
I wobbled away from the table past Jen and Helen, my friends who want the book, but all I could think about was Ann, for whom the book didn’t work.
As you can probably surmise, neither Jen nor Helen chose to represent FOUR CIRCLES, but what is more significant is that neither of them offered any solid reasons why. Ann at least gave me some insight I could use, proving sometimes the rejections, though hard to take, are the most useful. I’m still not ready to send the novel to Ann and the pitch session was last December. I’m not quite sure I’ve done (or want to do) the work she wants to see.
The whole “7-minute pitch session” taught me a lot, it caused me to join a new writer’s group, allowed me to meet three agents, and forced me to try something new.
Sometimes breaking out of your comfort zone is just what you need to get going again. If you are feeling daring, here is a list of upcoming writing events you might try in and around Boston:
• Boston Book Festival – Oct. 16th - http://www.bostonbookfest.org/
• Grub Street’s “A taste of Grub – Nov. 5th - http://www.grubstreet.org/index.php?id=32
• Brockton Public Library Poetry Read – Sat., Oct 16th 2-5 PM or Sat, Nov. 20th 2-5 PM - http://gbspa.homestead.com/Home.html
Most South Shore writers are aware of the wonderful writer’s group Grub Street based in Boston and with a satellite location on the South Shore at Buttonwood Books. Last year, as I was reading The Rag (Grub Street’s online newsletter), I was drawn to an event called “The 7-minute pitch.” The description of the event was: “Meet with three established agents for seven minutes each. It’s your chance to pitch your work, in-person, to three high-profile agents!”
Of course I jumped at the chance, having had no success querying agents for my novel, FOUR CIRCLES. I clicked on the Website and was taken to The Maine Writers and Publishers Alliance. For $150, I would get to meet with three agents (additional agents were $45 each) and pitch my novel to them. I immediately signed up and began staying up until 2 a.m. editing my manuscript.
Three days before the pitch session, I trekked to my local Staples and had three copies of my 400-page novel printed in the hopes that all three agents would need a copy to bring home with them (stop laughing!).
The pitch session was held at a fancy Boston hotel (the name of which escapes me), beginning at 9 a.m. There were people pacing throughout the lobby; some looked like old pros, while others were practically in tears. Many of them, myself included, carried briefcases or bags with reams of hopeful paper. I approached the women at the check-in desk who were friendly but unable to dole out Valium, which is what I needed at the time.
I looked at my registration sheet. I was in the first group (9 – 9:07), the third (9:16 – 9:23), and a later group (around 10:20).
As eight of us lined up for the first group, I realized the friendly check-in women were very serious about the seven minutes—they even had a gong (reminding me of “The Gong Show,” which didn’t help at all).
As the huge mahogany doors parted, we walked into a large conference room with eight folding tables and eight smiling agents. A wave of relief washed over me. The agents were just people and they really wanted to like our books.
My first pairing was with Jennifer Weltz from the Jean V. Naggar Literary Agency (click on the link: the home page is really telling about an agent’s life). She asked me what my book was about and I gave my standard answer, “It’s about what happens after you die.” That always gets ’em. I then went into my spiel and after three minutes she said she wanted to take a look. I reached for my 400 pages and Jennifer explained she wanted it electronically, of course. Of course. At that point, we had four more minutes with nothing to do…awkward. I couldn’t just get up and walk out the door; everyone else was still talking to their agents. We sat there trying to make small talk, but all I could do was hope I wouldn’t say anything that would change her mind.
Finally, gong. I got up, shook Jennifer’s hand and left smiling so hard I thought someone might punch me. Well, that was easy, I thought. I relaxed in the lobby for the next eight minutes thinking, I’ve got this.
My next group was called and we lined up again. Gong, we were back in. I waved at Jennifer, then sat down across from Helen Zimmermann of the Helen Zimmermann Literary Agency. I’d done my research and knew Helen was an avid mountain climber, so I chatted for a moment about that, then did my pitch. She immediately wanted to read the full manuscript. She, too, said an electronic submission would be fine (why was I carrying around 400 pages of paper?). I now had two minutes left, but the conversation flowed easily and I was left with a wonderful dilemma: If both agents wanted the manuscript who would I choose?
Gong.
I walked back into the lobby and sat next to a woman with her head in her hands.
“How did it go?” she muttered to me.
“Oh fine. They asked for the whole thing,” I said.
“Oh, that’s great. You must be excited,” she said, her eyes lighting up with happiness for me.
“Well, who knows if they’ll like it or not,” I said, knowing modesty is like honey to flies.
“What’s it about?” she asked, and I gave her my standard line.
“I’d read that.” She said. I just smiled thinking, Of course, who wouldn’t?
A few gongs later, my third pitch session lined up. I walked through the door and faced… someone who was not smiling. Her name was Ann Collette with the Helen Rees Literary Agency. She didn’t even say hello; she just asked, “What’ve you got?”
I’ve got two agents who already want the book, I thought to myself, but I gave her the line.
“Interesting,” she said. “Let me see the first chapter.”
I was flustered. I’d resigned myself to the fact that the paper was useless, so I’d put it all back in the box. I quickly pulled the box out as Ann tapped the table. I handed over my pages and she scanned the first page, flipped, and scanned the second.
“You can’t start a book with a dead baby,” she said, handing the pages back to me. “Your writing is fine, but no one is going to buy a book that starts like that.”
Tears sprang to my eyes. “Well, I could move that chapter…”
“No, I just don’t think it will work.”
“Would you look at it if I rearranged it?”
“Not if you send it to me in a few weeks. Rewriting this will take months. If you do the work, then maybe.”
Gong. “OK, thank you.”
I wobbled away from the table past Jen and Helen, my friends who want the book, but all I could think about was Ann, for whom the book didn’t work.
As you can probably surmise, neither Jen nor Helen chose to represent FOUR CIRCLES, but what is more significant is that neither of them offered any solid reasons why. Ann at least gave me some insight I could use, proving sometimes the rejections, though hard to take, are the most useful. I’m still not ready to send the novel to Ann and the pitch session was last December. I’m not quite sure I’ve done (or want to do) the work she wants to see.
The whole “7-minute pitch session” taught me a lot, it caused me to join a new writer’s group, allowed me to meet three agents, and forced me to try something new.
Sometimes breaking out of your comfort zone is just what you need to get going again. If you are feeling daring, here is a list of upcoming writing events you might try in and around Boston:
• Boston Book Festival – Oct. 16th - http://www.bostonbookfest.org/
• Grub Street’s “A taste of Grub – Nov. 5th - http://www.grubstreet.org/index.php?id=32
• Brockton Public Library Poetry Read – Sat., Oct 16th 2-5 PM or Sat, Nov. 20th 2-5 PM - http://gbspa.homestead.com/Home.html
