day 3 - pitch fest turns to bitch fest

This pitch fest is like trying to make the cheerleader squad.

When the group leader was giving feedback from the morning pitch she said nice things to everyone about what the editor said.

I was sitting in a corner sending my earlier blog post. A woman I've been talking to was like "what did she say about Franki?" and the group leader was like "Oh, um, Franki, if you want to know what she said I can tell you later."

I was so pissed, like why don't you just tell me now? I don't really give a fuck if she hated my book. She doesn't even publish my genre.

Then an unexpected shit storm started  because some of us have been pitching to editors that have nothing to do with our genres. And the conference guy told a woman with a story about a lawyer that she had been asked to write by the lawyer "there isn't an editor here that would be interested in your story so there's no point in you doing any more pitches".



In the afternoon I pitched to an editor who was
1. sick
2. 8 hours into her day of listening to book pitches (I was the 30th person to pitch her)
3. not someone who works in my genre (she does women's literary fiction, i.e. eat pray love and every other book like that which I will never read)

I was so over this conference that I rewrote my pitch, didn't bother to read it over before I printed it, and didn't bother to practice it before I met with her.

Surprisingly, she seemed interested. But, I chalked that up to the pictures on my pitch. Also, at one point she was looking at me and smiling, and I didn't know what to do, so I said "I guess I'll leave now" (normally they say "thanks!" when they want you to leave). Ech. She was the only editor that shook my hand.

Later, I was at a conference happy hour, and my group leader came up and said "how do you think that went?" and I was like "I have no idea." She was like "do you think she was interested in your book?" and I said "no, I think she just was curious about the shark picture because she was bored (I have a pic I took of a great white on my pitch sheet) and so she was like 'tell me about the shark and then get the fuck out of my face'." (explaining my rather awkward exit).

Then the group leader was like "Oh. Because I think she was interested. You'll find out next week."

I'm probably jinxing myself even writing that on my blog.


Every one was like "stay out and party with us!" But I had a client issue and had to go back to the hotel to take care of it because the fuck wit install engineer who was supposed to get my software installed for my Monday engagement decided instead to not do his fucking job.

Ech.

I should write a fiction book about desperate women trying to get their books published.

really? is this a sick joke?

So I got here this morning at 9 am to practice my pitch. The group leader reviewed it and suggested I change it back to the version I had yesterday with a few word changes. Ech. So I ran back to my hotel and rewrote my pitch and had to kick a middle eastern guy off the hotel computer so I could print it. I got back to the morning pitch fest with 2 minutes to spare.

The editor I pitched to has done 4 books in 10 years. She does nothing with my genre. The only things she said to me are "I'm afraid of sharks" and "I hate swimming".

I ran back to the hotel after my pitch and rewrote my pitch  again.

What the fuck am I doing?

day 3 - coming out of my corner swinging

I only got 4 hours of sleep last night but I managed to finish another rewrite of my pitch. I did some research on the pitches that won last year and revised mine accordingly. It's not what the book is about, but they can find that out when they read it.

now I know why I don't read much fiction - day 2

So today everyone pitched their stories to an editor. I knew I was screwed when, after the first woman did her pitch, the editor said "Oh, I like anything with the word daughter in it!" and then started talking about her daughter. The book was about a Canadian family who decide to spend a year driving around in an RV car schooling their 7 year old.

A woman in my group, who is a plastic surgeon in Beverly Hills, pitched her book which is about a plastic surgeon in Beverly Hills who agrees to star in a reality TV show because she has so much school debt. I think it's a great pitch. The editor said "that's a little too edgy for me."

Um, what? Nip/Tuck and Dr. Beverly Hills 90210 are two of the most popular shows ever (okay, I know that because the doctor told me that, but I looked it up and it's true). Her book shows the inside story on what happens with plastic surgery. And this was not of interest to an editor that does women's fiction?

I don't know why I even bothered to pitch her because she doesn't do my genre. She said I should focus more on myself than what I did for adventures. Then the group tore my pitch apart. They were like "what is your book about?" I was like "what the pitch said, not letting an injury prevent me from being an athlete" and they were like "but we don't get that from your pitch". Ech.

And then one of the women said "you say your book is funny but you are just trying to mask your pain." No. I laugh about my situation because there's nothing I can do about it. So then she said "why don't you just take drugs?"

Then one of the other women said "Her book is about having a void in her life." I guess she found it unbelievable that I might enjoy ice climbing.


The person I feel the worst for is a woman who's a lawyer that wrote a story about defending her brother against a controversial law in Kentucky that says teachers can't have sex with anyone under 17 (the legal age for consensual sex for everyone but teachers is 16). Her brother, who is a teacher, had sex with a 17 year old who wasn't his student (that's how he ended up getting off from the charges). It's obviously a very emotional topic (the point of the book is that she became close to her estranged brother defending him even though she thought what he did was wrong). A bunch of the women in the group were like "I just find it hard to believe you would defend him even though he is your brother. It's seems like you need more motivation than that."

I got invited out for a drink but instead I'm going to work on my pitch again. I'm just so annoyed and frustrated right now.

And, I wasn't a finalist in that kid's book contest. However, The Adventures of Poo Boy was, as well as The Kissy Momster.

What the fuck...

pitchfest - day 1 - I'm depressed

So I did my first day of the pitchfest. 

Today was kind of depressing. We are in groups according to genres, and my "genre" is women's fiction and memoir. So, picture me in a room full of 14 women. They've already given me a nickname: the human crash test dummy. BTW, none of the other women were given nicknames.

Everyone has a really strong pitch. I think they didn't know what to do with mine. There was a stunned silence when I finished reading it and then the woman running the group said "Well. That wasn't what I was expecting." I tried to explain the difference between coordination and athleticism. They didn't seem to get it. They kept saying "If you were a competitive runner why would ice climbing be so hard for you?" Ech.

And I revised my pitch. AGAIN.

It's pretty high school the way things go down. Pitches start tomorrow. Every day we pitch to an agent or an editor. 

You go in to a room with just the agent or editor and the person running your group, make your pitch, and then the agent or editor decides which books they want to take a look at. Then we're all called back into the room and the group leader announces whose books made the cut. And the group leader keeps counseling us not to cry during our pitches and not to cry afterward if our book is rejected because "it's all subjective".

Okay, it's not like high school. It's like kindergarten. I'm fucking over 40. I don't need someone to tell me not to cry during a business meeting.

 Fuck. I should have come here with my kid book.

And it's humid so my hair looks insane. I don't know if that's a plus or minus. Also, we were apparently supposed to dress in business attire. Oops. I guess I didn't read that memo. An agent can't seriously expect me to wear a suit. What's the point of being a writer if I have to be professional? I might as well stay a consultant.

from snake-tacular to muons

Since I have to spend the weekend in Rhode Island next weekend I was trying to convince a friend of mine, who is a double amputee, to go to the aquarium with me to check out some sea dragons and so I could stand in front of the snake cages and work on my snake phobia.

Unfortunately he's out of town, but he mentioned he is also afraid of snakes and didn't want to hang out around snake cages.

So I made the following suggestion:

You should put something in your legs that would electrocute snakes if they try to bite you. And maybe the electric current could also cook the snake and then you and your friends could eat it.

Or, maybe more humane, play annoying music that only snakes can hear so they won't come near you. Like Van Halen's 1984 album. All the snakes would be like "let's get out of here before Jump comes on!"

He didn't think it was a great idea (as in "too stupid to even respond to"). And, after doing some research, it turns out he was right:

I've been doing research over the course of the day (lots of boring call in meetings, no one can see what I'm doing).

Apparently certain noises agitate snakes and make them more likely to strike. Van Halen would probably agitate them. So don't listen to my suggestion in the last email.

BTW, I found an awesome snake trap. On the lid it says "WARNING! Live Snake May Be Inside!"

I also found some snake repellent. It's made out of mongoose urine. Gross.

Did you know snakes don't like to slither over sisal rope? Apparently it hurts their underbelly.

And then I followed the wikipedia links to other pages and eventually ended up on a page about muons. If I were a muon I would wear a shirt all the time that said "electrons, I will crush you".

Because, muons are like 200 times bigger than electrons.


And I sent a fan letter to this guy who runs my new favorite (okay, I didn't have an old favorite) snake web site. You can see a snake pooping. Their poop is really gross because they pee out the same hole and they don't have, according to the web site, enough plant fiber in their diet. 

There's also, I just want to mention, a glue trap for snakes. The glue breaks down over time so the snake could get away, in theory. But it usually starves to death first. But, then you can pull it out of the glue trap and throw it away as opposed to having to throw the glue trap away while the snake is still attached.


The web site dude hasn't responded back yet. That's okay. He's probably catching snakes. Which is a good thing.
 

escape to new york

Well, I'm in the city and in my hotel room, which is a lot bigger than I expected it to be. It's almost a regular sized room.

It wasn't easy getting here. My flight was delayed an hour because there was fog in NYC and they wouldn't allow planes to land. Then the traffic controllers got all mixed up. First they told us we were clear to take off so everyone got on the plane. Then while we were taxiing down the runway (boy, that's a weird word, taxiing, I like it) they said we weren't cleared to take off. So we sat on the run way for about 40 minutes. The baby behind me was crying. I hate that.

I guess it was a good thing we were delayed because a shit show storm was brewing for my engagement next week, all because the install engineer doesn't do his fucking job. This is the third engagement I've done with him where he failed to get the software installed and operational before I showed up. Oh, and the engagement manager forgot to order the training material for a class I'm giving Monday.

I'm glad I get to do everyone else's job, and my own.

Oh, and a blog posting I put up yesterday on my work blog went viral. Kind of cool.

Well, into the void tomorrow. I wonder if I'm going to have to pitch to an agent tomorrow or if we're just working with editors...it would be cool if something finally happens for my book but I'm trying to not get my hopes up.

new york, new york

So tomorrow I leave for the pitch conference to see if I can get an agent for my book. The fun starts Thursday at 9 am and goes to Sunday 4 pm. Though, I'll be leaving at 2 PM to take a train to my customer engagement next week.

I keep rewriting my first five pages. I need to stop doing that.

I read a really depressing statistic. Most agents get 10,000 queries a year. They usually pick 2 to publish. That's even worse odds than when I applied to Johns Hopkins. Ech.

perhaps I've taken fake smoking too far

So, I'm taking my anti-smoking medication so I can stop smoking my fake cigarettes. Is that weird? My dad thinks it is.

Also, I just found out on wikipedia today that nicotine ISN'T bad for you. Me, I mean.

So I spent an hour filling all my zero nicotine cartridges for my fake cigarette with nicotine liquid so they'll have nicotine in them.