Showing posts with label pitches. Show all posts
Showing posts with label pitches. Show all posts

Friday, June 15, 2018

This is Not a Pasta Spoon: Repurposing Tools of the Trade to Get the Job Done (a post for writers… no, seriously)


Top shelves of kitchen cabinets were not located with short cooks in mind. I can’t reach the top shelves, but I need the storage space, so those top shelves are full of stuff anyway. I’m too independent to rely on the taller members of my family, too stubborn to haul a chair or step-stool across the room every time I need to reach something, and so…the pasta spoon. 

I don’t believe I’ve ever once used it to serve spaghetti, but gosh, it makes an excellent reacher! Those slightly-curved prongs tuck around all manner of packages on my top shelf so I can easily nudge them to the front and let them drop into my waiting hand. Repurposing the pasta spoon is efficient and effective for me.

I’ve repurposed tools of the trade in writing, too, and today I want to share one of those with you, in the hopes you’ll also find it efficient and effective.

The pitch. We writers often don’t consider pitching our story until…well, until we’re pitching it. We write, revise, and polish our manuscript, and then suddenly it’s time to send it out into the world in search of a home, and we realize we need a query letter – which of course is basically a pitch, designed to make the recipient need to read our story. But there’s much to be gained from repurposing the pitch.

What if, instead of using the pitch as a query tool, you use it as a guide. What if, instead of writing the pitch after your manuscript is finished, you write it before. Write it when you’re in that heart-pounding yes, this! stage of discovering your story, to bring focus and clarity to your awesome-but-probably-a-tad-vague idea. Write it then, and use it to keep you on track. Use it to guide you, to keep one hand on the through-line of your story as you work your way toward the end. Odds are, you’ll want to tweak the pitch when you finally get to the query stage, but that’s okay—the time you spend writing a pitch now will save you a ton of time in revisions later.

Depending where you are on the plotter—pantser spectrum, the idea of writing the pitch before writing the story may or may not seem comfortable, easy, or even feasible. Plotters, maybe you already write the pitch first. Maybe you’re saying, hey, I’ve always used the pasta spoon for that. But pantsers, I know it doesn’t feel natural. I know you’re probably thinking but I don’t know until I write the story! I understand…I’m with you. But try it. Really.

If you’ll allow me to throw in a completely different metaphor here... *tosses culinary tools back in the drawer, because who am I kidding, I’m no chef* Imagine you’re driving on the prairies. You can see your destination a long while before you’ll get there. You can drive straight for it, of course, but what if you’re a pantser? What if you want to wander through wheat fields and explore dusty backroads along the way? Keeping your pitch in mind as you write is like glancing up regularly at that grain-elevator goal in the distance, shimmering on the horizon, so whatever route you take, you’re moving steadily toward where you want to be.

Have you repurposed your pitch this way before? Are there other writing tools of the trade you’ve repurposed? I’d love to hear what you’ve found to be effective and efficient for you in your writing. Please share!


Monday, September 15, 2014

Where are the Stakes?



No, not those kind of steaks, but they do look delicious. And no, I don't mean the vampire kind of stakes either. I'm talking about your story's stakes.

Over the last couple of weeks, I've done a fair amount of critiquing for Pitch Wars and Write on Con and the one thing I saw missing most often from queries were the stakes of the story. And here’s the thing, while it was one of the most common things left out, it’s probably one of the most important parts of a query or pitch.

So what do we mean when we say we want to know what the stakes of the story are?

In general stakes means answering one or more of the following questions:

What happens if your main character fails?

What is keeping your main character from succeeding?

Will something bad happen if they do succeed?

In more specific terms your answer to those questions shouldn't be something like saving the world, or death of your main character. Cause let's face it, the world almost always gets saved and your MC almost always lives. Those stakes aren't very exciting are they?

So really dig into your main character and think about what their deepest desires are in the story. What are they really trying to accomplish? And if they fail, how personal can you make the punishment? Is their family in harm’s way? Are they going to lose a best friend? A lover? An arm? Something else? Get creative here.

While certain death or the end of the world really sucks, they are pretty common catastrophes in books. If you really want the reader to connect and care about your character give them stakes that are super close to your main character's heart. When you break your main character's heart, you break the reader's heart too. And that's a character your reader will follow anywhere. So dig deep into your story and find those stakes.

Well close enough! What's at stake in your story?
 

Monday, December 30, 2013

The Perfectly Painless Pitch Practice game!

With all the Twitter pitch contests coming up, ready to test your ability to boil your story down to 140 characters or less, I figured I'd share something with you all.

Something that'll change your life.

And the way you pitch.

Step right up, ladies and gentlemen! Step right up and experience the one and only PPPPG!

*For the full effect, imagine I said that in a creepy carnival game operator's voice.*


Beetlejuice may not have been the ideal pain-free example, but I wasn't lying when I said my game is perfectly painless. And it's really fun, too! The best part, though, is that it will definitely help you hone your pitch. 

Here's how it works:

Take a sheet of paper and make 2 columns. Each column will have it's own heading. The headings will look like this:


  1. Column 1: just pick a random person, group of people, or place. This can be very specific (like Bruce Willis, The U.S. Navy, or Waffle House) or generic (a Chihuahua, people, or a lemonade stand).
  2. Column 2: the more specific you can get here, the funnier the outcome. Sure, you can say "goes to work," but why not turn that blah into an ah! by writing "races her coworkers to the factory on a jet-powered pogo stick?" 

The next step is to fill the columns. If you're a whip-cracking taskmaster, you can set a time limit. Say, one minute for each column. If you're more like me, then just go for 6 items under each heading. You'll need a minimum of 3 actions and 2 characters to create one complete pitch. So if you want to create more than one, go for multiplies of  those numbers. If you've forgotten what multiples are, then I'd like to direct you to


Okay, so after you've created your list, here's what you do. Simply fill in the blanks below with the items in your list. If you worked with another person or a group, this becomes less like homework and more like a party game. Because these will get crazy. 

Crazy FUN, that is. 


You may need to add in a small word here and there to make it really work, but that should be fairly easy to do. 

At this point, you may be thinking, "How is this gonna help me with my pitch?"

Well, it's simple practice. It's taking all of these disconnected elements and plugging them in where they go to find the story within a bunch of random lines. And if you can do that with the items you came up with, then creating a pitch for your own story will be a piece of cake.


Just for fun, I included a bunch of pitches that my wife and I came up with while playing this game. I think some of these need to be outlined and written. Because they are AMAZEBALLS.


When the US government passes a law to legalize mullets, Cary Elwes must impregnate the last women on Earth in order to become the King of the Owls.

When 10,000 Mitt Romney clones catch the T-Virus, the world’s oldest rapper must win a hotdog eating contest in order to stop the devil from getting his own cooking show.

When children all over the world begin blogging, the British must hire Christian Grey as the new Kindergarten teacher in order to learn a new language in 6 weeks.

When butt fat is discovered as a cure for cancer, a couple in desperate need of counseling must sail to Sandwich Islands in order to keep the robots out for good.

When a tribe of pygmies runs for Congress, zombie miners must punch a hole in the sun in order to defeat Dr. Seuss.

When Wal-Mart files chapter 11, a pirate with a fear of wood and water must grow mustaches of golden fleece in order to save the internet.

When our nation’s farms begin growing bellybuttons instead of crops, an a capella group must forcefeed Jason Statham an entire box of Lucky Charms in order to find Miley Cyrus's lost sandal.

When Furbies become sentient, an adorable child with a lisp must find Waldo in order to bring the lost puppy back home.


Happy pitching!