MORE ABOUT ME.

Selling Myself Short

At 5'7", what choice do I have?

Sure, he has talent but…

When I was a teenager, I was encouraged to pursue writing as a career by some respected writers. One even offered to get a short fiction piece published in a literary review.

I already had a poem published.

I lacked the confidence to withstand the inevitable rejections that I would receive. I also thought it would be difficult to make a living.

[N.B. I was dense enough not to recognize that the respected writers urging me to join their profession were faculty members of the university.]

I pursued three other professions one at a time: political scientist, lawyer, and educator.

All three of these careers involved a great deal of writing. I was fortunate to have superiors and others who corrected and guided my output.

I never stopped creative writing, or at least keeping notes of words, turns of phrase, human habits, et cetera.

I wrote a few poems, like this one. That prompted my first screenplay when I adopted writing as a hobby in my forties.

One thing I never learned from my mentors was how to rein in my native verbosity.

More on that later.

[N.B. Being a regular contributor to comments to news articles, I have encountered the use of “more on” regularly. The programs used to maintain courteous behavior are the culprits for turning writing into a game of how to insult others without using insulting words.]

A new freedom and a new happiness

When I was tossed out of the world of employment eleven years ago, I initially tried to sell life insurance. Twice.

I had no trouble acing the training. When it came to hitting the road or the phone to generate leads, I was a failure. Twice.

My husband pointed out that the successful people were those who had friends and relatives willing to purchase some insurance to help them get started.

All I know is that I was promised mentoring that would give me the tools to be successful. I sorta kinda got that at the second company, but my manager was new.

A year after I quit, I contacted the guy to apologize for dropping out so quickly. I had seen his Jeep parked in the same spot where he parked when he accompanied me on sales rounds. He told me he got good enough to have several successful people under him.

Those couple of years gave me the freedom to decide what to do with my time. Being happy about that in the absence of any income required time.

I decided as a teenager that I would try writing full time after I retired. I figured that I would have many more experiences to draw upon and more confidence.

I was right.

My Mom and husband pointed out that I essentially was forced into retirement.

And so, I entered my fourth career.

We will be amazed before we are halfway through.

It turned out initially that I didn’t have to worry much about being rejected.

The first essay I sent to a literary review was accepted for publication. As I sent out new work in different types of writing formats, the acceptances kept coming.

• My first short fiction piece was published.
• My first novel was published.
• My first ten-minute play was produced.
• My first novella was published.
• My first new poem was published.
• My first photo art piece was published.
• My first one-act play was produced.
• My first tv pilot was a finalist in the first competition that I entered.

More recently, my first lyric set to music won Best Song in a competition. And then in four more.

My first film has won over two dozen awards in ten months.

Of course, nine times out of ten, my written work is rejected. It’s two out of three times for the film.

The two songs I have submitted have won nine awards out of twelve submissions.

I blame the composers.

That’s the good news.

Pitch has many meanings.

Pitch means:

• throwing a baseball
• hitting the right note
• waterproofing a surface
• measuring the angle of a surface

Then along came “sales pitch” (cue insurance sales).

To get the attention of a producer, manager, agent, or whoever can help translate my work to the stage, screen, or bookstore I pitch my projects.

In just over eight years I have pitched more than 100 times.

For in-person, phone, and Zoom pitches, I have been allotted from two to ten minutes. Written pitches are usually one page, sometimes two.

The person pitched may focus on the quality of the pitch or the project or both.

I was initially annoyed about the ones who spent most of the time criticizing how I pitched. At the time it didn’t occur to me that it was something I needed to work on more than revising my scripts.

Every now and then, the feedback spends some time on me.

When I started pitching insurance, I was told that I am selling myself. I was told the same thing when I started pitching my writing.

That’s a tough thing after being raised to address the world with humility and modesty.

Not that I have consistently hidden my candle.

I have taken classes on how to develop a pitch. I have been coached multiple times in advance of specific pitch sessions.

The common denominators are my inability to be succinct and to unclench my brain.

The most recent disaster

I was offered the opportunity to participate in a speed-dating style pitch session conducted on Zoom.

The format:

• Two minutes pitching
• Two minutes feedback
• Two minutes resting

Rinse and repeat for eleven total pitches to producers who likely have no interest in producing anything offered but happy to perform autopsies on each writer’s performance.

The organizers kept saying that it gets easier as you repeat your spiel.

They also said to try to incorporate any suggestions given by producers into the next pitch. Easy, they said, if you are an actor used to getting notes from a director or writer during rehearsals.

There’s a reason why soon after I joined the drama club in junior high that I became the lighting designer and board operator during performances.

As we spun from one Zoom room to the next, my ability to hold my pitch together evaporated.

Huge chunks of confidence fell off when I changed the pitch based on feedback from one of the producers.

After episodes like that, I wonder if I have done more harm than good to my reputation, assuming anyone remembers me.

I told one producer I had met her six years ago for a longer pitch session. She had no recollection of my name or anything.

C’est comme ça.

C’est bon à savoir.

And a personal favorite: Plus ça change, plus c’est la même chose.

And now: À la prochaine.