Writers' Conference: Survival

I love writers’ conferences! It’s more thrilling for me than any Disneyland ride. Sweeter than a piece of rich coconut cake laced with sweet custard, headier than a trip to the moon! I get to enjoy the company of other authors and readers; I’m surrounded by piles of books, and an all around splendid group of people. It is a complete and utter pleasure for me. However…it also wears me out. Especially if I’m an active participant, (a part I LOVE to play!).

How to survive with one’s energy and mental state intact? I once observed how golfer Tiger Woods conserved energy during a golf tournament. Playing eighteen holes isn’t easy, no matter your strength or expertise. Between the holes, he walked slowly, deliberately, completely unaware of his surroundings, the onlookers, or other golfers. His sole focus, on the course, appeared to be getting the ball to the hole, while using the least amount of energy.

Conference or any high energy outing tips:

– Taking it slow, and thoughtfully, is a must.

– Carve out quiet time. Find a space to zone out in (preferably alone), to give the mind and body a break. A catnap would be ideal, but for yours truly that’s like turning a somersault from one trapeze to another, mid-air. It ain’t gonna happen. If the mind refuses to go quiet, find a calming diversion. Take advantage of nature if possible and go outdoors. Take a walk away from the festivities and breathe. Breathing long and slow works wonders.

– Don’t forget to eat and drink and be merry! At my most recent stint, I sat behind a table at an author fair…and forgot to eat. I was swooning from hunger and was in no mood for chitchat. I transform into the Incredible Hulk when hungry. Fortunately, for all, my wonderful husband brought me food and water, and all was right again with the world. The burger and fries were possibly the best I’d ever had, and turned me back into my mild mannered self. It’s also vital to stop to enjoy the moment now and then. I paused several times to appreciate where I was. Exactly where I wanted to be. :)

Hollywood Pitching

This coming week, I have the pleasure of being a panelist with the incredibly talented Anne Perry at the Central Coast Writers’ Conference. This is no small miracle! I’m very grateful for the opportunity. Our topic: Turning Your Novel Into A Movie. Hooray!

I’ve had the pleasure of sitting on both sides of the table when it comes to pitches. I’ve heard and delivered. Most recently, I pitched my book to a production company who requested more information. My pitch took all of five minutes (which was the allotted time) and contained a few simple ingredients.

An Internet search on pitching to Hollywood reveals much information on what the pitch should contain, but what I’d like to offer today are a few quick tips to make the pitch memorable and inviting. How to make the person on the other side of the table interested. But first, what not to say:

– You’re going to love this!
– There has never been a story like this before.
– I can’t tell you what it’s about because you might steal my idea.
– This will make you/us rich if you’re willing to play ball!

I’ve heard all of the above from the days of hearing pitches. The acquisitions director or the agent/lawyer really do prefer to reach their own conclusions. Also, know that ideas will not be stolen because ideas are not protected under copyright law. It’s the specific content that’s protected – the words. So if you wrote a story about a boy who discovers he’s a wizard, will you be violating a certain someone’s copyright? Not unless you write the same story or enough of the same story where it looks like you lifted scenes, chapters etc., from the original work. So how to make the production companies interested?

Besides having the correct content for the pitch (which is really a mini story), delivery is vital. Ingredients of a solid delivery:

– Start by building rapport. Do you have something in common with the person who’s hearing the pitch? If so, mention it, assuming that something is of a positive nature. If not, a simple thank you for taking the time to meet will do. Also, genuine compliments are always nice to hear.
– Make your talk pleasant or compelling. If it’s a serious topic, now is the time to display compassion or the right amount of emotion to tug at the listener’s heartstrings (assuming the person sitting across from you has a heart, which sometimes goes MIA in the entertainment industry). If it’s a pleasant topic, remember to insert smiles. You are not just selling the story, but yourself as the author.
– Think of it as a conversation where you’re telling a short, exciting, suspenseful tale; one you know quite well because you wrote it. Make the listener want to know more.
– Display your enthusiasm for the project. Who doesn’t want to work with an author that’s excited about her novel?
– Be sincere. If you’re sincere about your novel, it will not only make an impact, but will make listening a must.

Staying on Track: Success on Author Panels

I’ve had the great pleasure of appearing on many author panels with a slew of talented authors and wonderful audience members. The experience has been consistently gratifying; I’m so grateful to have been included in each and every one. I don’t practice for the panels. I do make sure my state of mind is high, my attitude the very best, and that I bring my “A” game to the panel, meaning I do my best to please the audience. I remember well, in my pre-author days, what life was like when the focus was on the last person it should have been on: me.

Years ago, my office moved from a dismal location to a near match for Fifth Avenue. I’d packed, unpacked, organized, and may have gone slightly berserk when I attended a meeting with new colleagues. By berserk I mean that maybe some words tumbled out of my mouth before I pulled the emergency brain brake and exercised thought prior to speaking.

I attended a noon hour meeting, in a room full of attorneys. There were two problems: no lunch was being served, and I’d not eaten anything. Everyone who knows me is aware that when I go hungry, say for a period of 90 minutes or more, my usual gentle, sweet demeanor peels away and the Attila the Hun in me is let loose. Arrrggghh! To add to my crabbiness during the meeting, my stomach growled so loudly, I shouted to be heard over the din; the hard-of-hearing didn’t stand a chance.

I was the new kid in town, thrown into a close-knit clan. After listening to idle gossip for ten minutes, I introduced myself and received a slew of disinterested stares which, along with my hunger, only enhanced my foul temper. I suddenly blurted out, “I haven’t practiced law in almost ten years, and I’ve loved every minute of it.”

Those who placed high marks on honesty and candor might have applauded my statement. As you may imagine, the room fell silent…except for my growling stomach, which competed with the ear shattering thunderstorm outside.

I immediately realized my error and tried to induce blindness and perhaps rapid onset amnesia with a dazzling smile. Alas, they didn’t fall for it.

I wiped away all traces of saliva that appeared after watching the fellow next to me devour his chicken pot pie, and forced myself to perk up. I re-focused, not on the roar of my empty middle section, demanding as it was; I ignored my Attila-like tendencies, and directed my energies on the issues being discussed. I tried really hard…and almost made it. I suddenly interrupted a discussion with,

“When I was Business Affairs Counsel for XYZ Motion Picture Studio….”

Fortunately, I was able to switch direction quickly, realizing that these lawyers cared as much about what I did in a previous life as they did about my having had a grand time staying at home, raising my family instead of working. I needed to focus on the here and now.

We all know that awareness is the first step to changing displeasing habits and/or characteristics. I am exceptionally aware of what hunger pangs do to my typically mild-mannered personality, and I usually carry around a snack or two in my handbag for that reason. Except I forgot that day. Instead, I shoved a large slice of humble pie down my throat, reminding myself that I’m a whole lot happier when I find ways to help others instead of focusing on myself.