Pitches? We Don't Need No Stinkin' Pitches!

That whole Mark Twain "I'd have written you a shorter letter but I didn't have the time" thing? Totally true. I spent three hours trying to boil RWS down to the oft-discussed, much-lamented "elevator pitch."

Aw yeah, you know the drill: You have ten seconds to answer, "So, what's your book about?" Go!

Robin Hood's estranged nephew rescues an alchemist who can clear him of murder, but she's blind, obsessed with fire, and sister to the woman he helped kidnap.

Bang! Twenty-seven words. Now breathe.

"Estranged" suggests an unresolved drama in his past. "Obsessed" means her fascination with fire borders on the unhealthy. "Kidnap," softened a bit by the word "helped" and instead of the more plot-accurate "arrest," creates instant conflict. And it's easier to say than "helped abduct"--I've tried both. Repeatedly.

"It's called Redeeming Will Scarlet" can come before or after, and information about word count, whether or not its complete, and other details would obviously bubble forth at the e/a's prompting. Point is to grab and shake.

I also have my old one for Serenade, just in case.

In 1804 Salzburg, a widowed violin prodigy studies with the composer she idolizes, only to discover he stole the symphony he's most famous for.

Not particularly elegant but it serves its purpose as a back-up when discussing my other MS. I'd rather say "for which he's most famous," but that just shouts GRAMMAR BITCH. And I never figured out a way to backload the sentence to put "stole," the power word, at the end--not without making it passive.

See? It's a horrible process. When I have 25 words, every one nags and cajoles to convince me of its usefulness. But really it's only mental compensation for all the unknowables about the convention itself. At least I can control this. I can obsess and study and make decisions. Everything else, such as actually finding myself in an elevator with an e/a with ten seconds to spare--that's random.

Later: the formal pitch, or, Pitch of Death

Closing in, I hope that you make it.
Closing in, I hope you find your way.
"Closing In" by Imogen Heap