About six weeks ago I received word that I had been accepted in the September 20 – 23rd Algonkian Pitch Conference in NYC. I say accepted because the conference is limited to sixty writers. So, there I’ll be, with sixty people like me, people who have invested their hearts and souls, not to mention years, writing that perfect novel or nonfiction book, the one that the world has been waiting for, the one that an agent will represent and a publisher publish.
At first I thought that three months was way more time than I would need to hone a pitch for my novel Beyond the Boathouse. The rules say we get one minute to set the story, introduce the main characters, describe the conflict, rising action and climax. The conference organizers sent out two sample pitches that worked like a charm. The longer sample was 202 words long. I practiced reading that one and blew the lid off the time limit. After timing myself I realized that if I’m going to deliver the goods verbally, and be able to pause for effect, modulate my voice, and provide my listener a chance to follow what I’m saying, my limit is 175 or so words, not a beefy 202. So far my best effort with 175 is one minute, eight seconds. Will I be flogged for running overtime?
So far I’ve learned that three months is not too much time to prepare a winning pitch. I’ve also re-learned what I’ve always known about myself; that is, I’m a story-teller and a talker. I love to talk, whether in front of a class, to friends, or the person sitting next to me in the departure gate at the airport. People who love to talk aren’t known for their brevity.
To say that my pitch has evolved over the weeks is a five-star, gold medallion, understatement. Every time I open the file I change it. I’m satisfied that the pitch du´ jour has the basic bone structure and skin that the agents and editors are looking for. Still, I worry that I haven’t done a good job describing the soul of the story.
What do I mean by the soul of my story? To me the element of soul is what the writer has written that makes the reader care about the triumphs and tragedies that confront the main characters. I want readers to empathize with Kyle Tolliver and say to themselves, “Damn, that could happen to me.” Should a reader say; “Damn, that did happen to me,” I’ll have a fan for life.
But my mission in pitching Beyond the Boathouse is not to win a fan for life. The mission is to get that holy gatekeeper to the forbidden realm of publishing to think for a moment and ask; “Why did Kyle feel that way? Who imposed his exile? Where were the police, or his friends?” If my pitch can spark those questions, or any questions, to be perfectly honest, my one-minute promo will have done its job. If the editor or agent nods and says “Interesting,” I will probably begin weeping and gnashing my teeth until a security guard comes and duct tapes me to a dolly and hauls me away.
I’ll keep you posted on how this all plays out. For now, this is my pitch, all 176 words of it. I’m sure I’ll be shaving more words as I tweak and tickle this little monster over the weeks ahead. At 156 words, I could deliver the monologue like a Shakespearean soliloquy. If I try to pack the full 176 in a minute, I sound like a salesman trying to stick you with a timeshare. Barring major seismic shifts, this is what I’m pitching in New York. Wish me luck.
The Pitch
Kyle Tolliver was stunned by the call from hospice. Making peace with his father was impossible. After twenty years the terror of the beatings still tormented him. Besides, returning home could cost him his life. Ten years earlier his Pulitzer-winning book exposed deaths caused by faulty clinical trials. The pharmaceutical company was ruined. Kyle was hunted for revenge. He fled to Zurich taking on a new identity. Viktor Bukharov killed the scientist who could have stopped the trials, and knew Kyle could nail him for murder. Now he’s in hiding, waiting to kill Kyle. Kyle craved freedom from his childhood demons and so risked leaving the safety of exile to reconcile with his father. News of his homecoming leads Bukharov to Southwest Harbor. He breaks into the Tolliver home and sets a trap using Kyle’s father and former girlfriend, Ellen as bait. From outside Kyle watches in horror as Bukharov violates Ellen and kills his father. Kyle lures Bukharov to the boathouse, the site of his father’s beatings. Bukharov torches the old shed. Kyle escapes, only to face the killer in a showdown.
Till later,
Ken
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