I’m not ashamed to admit that I carry copies of my book Famous! How to be the Star of Your Show around in my bag, like a mixtape rapper selling CDs at the gas station. Why? Because I’m always ready for the big pitch.
Shout out to rappers who’ve nailed this concept. I’ve supported many Brooklyn rappers this way. Let’s keep this art going. Being indie is serious business and no one sells your product better than you.
Anyway, Famous! is my baby and while I prefer to sell books in bulk at schools and youth groups, sometimes there are impromptu opportunities for sales. Although Famous! is available on amazon.com and barnesandnoble.com, those sites haven’t mastered the art of the 30-second pitch. (Plus, online outlets take a cut of the profit and when I sell books from my inventory, that coin goes directly into my bank account.)
What do you do? is bound to come up at a cocktail party, panel discussion or BBQ. I tell the person or group that I’m an author and when they inquire about the book, it’s time to werk. (Not to be confused with work. Click over to your friendly urban dictionary for the definition.)
Sidebar: Months before I had my 30-second pitch on lock, I amped myself up with Eminem’s “Lose Yourself.”
You better lose yourself in the music, the moment you own it
You better never let it go, you only get one shot,
Do not miss your chance to blow, this opportunity comes once in a lifetime you better
Yes, I’m a disciple of theme music.
Anyway, talking about myself seems obnoxious and by extension, talking about my book is super-obnoxious. But if I don’t pitch (i.e. sell), I don’t eat. And I’m a huge fan of food, indoor plumbing, heat in the winter and mobile service. So I pitch like Pedro Martinez when he rocked a Boston Red Sox uniform.
Here are some keys to master the art of the 30-second pitch for your book.
(Note: The following tips also work in various scenarios, including if you’re trapped in the elevator with your CEO and want to tell her about your advertising idea for a new organic lemonade.)
WRITE, REVISE, RINSE, REPEAT
I’m a fan of writing everything down. There’s some not-so complicated science detailing how and why the brain retains what we write. Don’t fight it. Just do it.
And don’t attempt to get it right the first time.
Let the words flow and crank out a few lines, even if they’re incomplete sentences or don’t make sense. Borrow from your synopsis. Use symbols, doodles and sketches, anything that brings the blurry image into focus.
Do this a few times, then go back and highlight the most interesting parts. The summary needs to be descriptive and convey the heart of the book.
The trick is to make the reader/potential customer see the pitch.
Think of it as an audio trailer with visual inspiration.
Example: Someone described my (unpublished) YA novel as “the hip-hop Empire.”
That was a super close depiction, and anyone who heard that phrase would know that focused on rap music and a family power struggle.
Tight. Bright. Visual.
Boom.
REHEARSE WITH THE WOMAN/MAN IN THE MIRROR
Remember the vintage Jack Benny joke “How do I get to Carnegie Hall?” And the punch line is: “Practice, practice practice.”
It’s time to practice when the pitch is tight and bright and it’s clear the book is about zombies, bio-chemical weapons and a female detective destined to expose government secrets.
I have two preparation methods. First, record the audio and play it back to critique pitch, pace and tone.
Don’t sound like:
- a used car salesperson
- a cheerleader high on Adderall
- an I, Robot android
Go for warm, friendly and convincing. Second, deliver the pitch to a full-length mirror, with a genuine smile and eye contact. Be sure to blink. Make your face and voice sync up. Don’t scare grandmas and young children.
Don’t look like:
- a reality TV housewife suffering from bad Botox
- Jared Leto’s Joker in Suicide Squad
- a combo platter of number 1 and 2, with a side order of Bride of Chucky
There’s no shortcut to this one, Scribes. Get in the mirror and rehearse until it’s smooth and conversational.
CONQUER YOUR SHYNESS, BELIEVE IN YOUR FLYNESS
This line is courtesy of Mr. Kanye West. Roughly translated it means move past self-doubt and believe what you’re saying—and the other person will too.
Think about it the next time a 3 a.m. infomercial pops up. Tony Horton has convinced me (and many insomniacs) that abs like his are within my reach if I purchase P90X. His empire is upward of $400 million, which means his pitch game is insane. And to think, this guy used to be a comedian. Clearly, TH found his niche.
At fairs and festivals, I’ve seen authors tell potential customers to read the back of their book for the scoop.
What? Nope. Not. Doing. That.
Reading synopses is for bookstore browsing.
Live events are for turning on the charm, channeling your inner Tony and firing up the Square for the sale.
When a book lover meets me in living color, the person who’s staring into my eyes is about to experience all this black girl magic—whether she’s ready for it or not. I’m friendly, genuine and interested in what he or she has to say.
Rarely do they walk away empty handed.
Oh, and the best pitch I’ve ever heard from a rapper selling mixtapes was that his music was inspired by golden era hip-hop, and because he didn’t curse, I could play the CD with my grandmother and kids in the car.
I laughed and happily gave him $5. I didn’t walk away empty handed.
If you were trapped in an elevator with an agent or a potential customer, would be ready with your 30-second pitch?
This is amazing. Thank you, T.
Glad you think so. I have looked so crazy in the past when my pitch game was wack.