I think I’ve whittled down my pitch into something that may just resemble a professional attempt. I still can’t believe that through my fledgling connections I found someone generous enough to not only help me with my pitch but to suffer through an actual run-through over coffee Friday morning. Vive le networking!
I can’t believe my eyes as my list of supporters, helpers and cheer squad grows as the week flies by. It’s getting scary now because my first attempt at the pitch was all wrong and I felt like the neophyte I am at this game. I’m glad I got things fixed and set myself on the right track but at the same time, it’s never nice to hear you’re out in left field. Now that I think I know what I’m doing, I hope it’ll be a little easier.
That being said, I have no idea what I’m doing with the submission package. Am I really as done as I think I am? I’m starting to suffer those writerly doubts again and as I worked on my pitch things started to develop that had me crying out in abject horror- This can’t change! Don’t go that way! What are you thinking?!
It makes me sad to think that my future drafts as I polish this up between my pitch and the letter/call saying someone’s interested (optimistic, I know) is going to have to be fast and brutal because the pitch has clarified things for me and shown me that the changes are necessary. As much as I don’t want to change anything, I know that I have to in order to make the story tighter, more intriguing and more complex. Since it’s going to be a series, I need something of more substance and much more concrete to carry over to the next book. I have that somewhat right now but I’m not sure if it’s enough.
I finally managed to drag my little bum over to consignment shop heaven and found a few lovely pieces that I just can’t wait to put together into a outfit fit for Margaret Atwood (in her younger years of course). Keep your eyes peeled for a picture in the Sunday evening edition…
While it’s been a treat having a chance to shop and blog today, unfortunately I have to get back to work because someone has to be able to afford this life of luxury and I don’t se the dog selling apples any time soon.