S.E. Reichert's Blog, page 7
July 18, 2024
A Word (or Several) About Writing Conferences
This, being July and smack dab in the middle of the Writing Conference Season (I’m not sure if that should be a capitalized title, but it seems like an event so…I’m going with it) I thought it would useful to budding writers out there to go over some conference basics as well as some advice that has really helped me get the most out of them. This also being a totally new era, I’ve added some modifications to reflect our new Zoom/Teams lifestyles (not NEARLY as cool as a Rock n’ Roll lifestyle).
So, let’s get into the meaty goodness of writer’s conferences and why you should strive to attend at least one a year.
How do you choose which one to attend?
• Firstly, most conferences, at least since the pandemic, have had to switch to some type of online format or perhaps online-in person hybrid to make accommodations for safety. So, the good news is, you may not have to shell out so much for travel expenses as they can be taken from the comfort of your home. Bad news is that you’ll still be at home and all the challenges that can go along with it. I’ll touch more on that later on.
• If you are anything like me, you’re wealthy in creativity but strapped for cash. One of the biggest deciding factors, for me, is the cost of the conference, along with which classes, speakers, and agents will be there. Getting to pitch to an agent, or multiple agents for publishers specific to your genre is a boon. Classes that are not just interesting but will help expand your craft are also good factors to consider.
• Some conferences are genre specific and if you are a comfort-hugging archetype who doesn’t flirt around outside your style and subject matter, then definitely consider something specifically geared to your genre. The Romance Writers of America used to host in fun and far-off lands like…San Diego and…New York City…*le sigh* Genre specific conferences are awesome if you’re looking to polish skills or start out in a new genre that you don’t normally write in. Don’t be afraid to flirt a bit (outside of your genre, that is *wink)
• If you’re stuck deciding between two, look at the courses offered, the speakers presenting, and if they are offering pitch sessions, especially agents suited to your work. Pick the one that gives you the most opportunity for growth and stretches your creative and ambitious goals.
How do I get the most out of my conference?
• Here’s what I’ve learned. Plan ahead but be flexible.
Conferences don’t just start the minute you pin that snazzy name badge on your seldom-used dress clothes (or, via online conferences, log in with only dress clothes on your upper half). They start the year before, during writing when you self-reflect on the issues you have with your WIP, your style, your grammar, or even the steps you want to take next. If you have trouble with dialogue but are a whiz at plotting out the perfect story arc, then use your conference to build up your weak points. Even if it means stepping out of your comfort zone. Which leads me to my next point:
• Sit it on at least one session that is outside of your genre, comfort zone, or even interest.
Look, conferences can be amazing experiences but if you’ve been through sixteen hours of various takes on the query letter or trying to perfect your memoir pitches, you’re not growing as much as you could be. Why do athletes cross train? Why does an engineering major still have to take social science classes? Because learning about the realm outside yourself will make you better in all aspects of your work. Try a sci-fi world-building class or screenwriting. I guarantee, you will get something new out of it that will help your project and your craft.
• Push your limits.
Talk to people you wouldn’t normally, share your story, your success, and your pitfalls. This is an awesome opportunity (I’m talking to you little introvert) to commiserate, vent, and rejoice in the craft you love so much. Pitch your novel, article, or story. Talk to the larger-than-life keynote speaker (here’s a hint: every single one of them I’ve had the pleasure to meet has been the kindest, most down-to-Earth and supportive writer). Come away feeling like the weekend/day was an experience that has changed you in some fundamental way.
How do I not get overwhelmed?
• For goddess’ sake, take a break in the midst of it all. I’m the worst at this. I’m a classic victim of; “I paid the money and I’m going to hit every single class. I will volunteer, pitch, hit up the speakers at the dinner table, and stuff every bit of information into my head until explodes!” Then by day two, nothing makes sense in my mind, words are blurry, I’m not sure what my name is, and I’m crying into a self-made mashed-potato tower, while wearing Underoos on my head that clearly are not my own.
Take the breaks between sessions or even forgo a session and find a quiet corner or go for a walk outside. You need it to recharge, allow time to absorb the information and be refreshed for the next round. This is especially true for online conferences! Take the computer to different rooms (if they’re still quiet) or outside if available, take walks in between sessions, take eye and body breaks (look far off for a spell, or ‘rest’ your eyes away from the screen, get up and stretch as often as available). Its’ almost like interval training—the space between, the recovery is what sets you up for the next round, so take it.
• If you are pitching to an agent or editor, polish the shit out of that thing beforehand. Take your pitch to your critique group, your friends, random people on the street before the conference and learn how to deliver it with confidence and clarity. Know your story, your characters, and your plot, inside and out. That first page should sing the sweetest siren’s song anyone has ever heart and lure the tepid agent from the afternoon lunch lull into something exciting they want to read more of. The more you practice your pitch, the more it will feel like a conversation with a good friend instead of an interview.
• If you are pitching, don’t be intimidated by the agent or editor. Remember they are people. They are there, specifically, to talk to you. To hear your story. To find the next big thing. Most of them are also just like you…they may even be wearing Underoos and like mashed potatoes. The point is, it’s okay to be nervous, but don’t go in assuming they relish the idea of shooting you down. Be polite and always thank them for their time and any advice they have to give.
• Sleep before. Sleep after. Eat nutritious food, take walks outside whenever you can, and watch the caffeine and the booze. Free coffee stations are like crack for me (or conversely at home for online conferences—having my own espresso machine) and cash bars are a tempting mistress at the end of a long, people-filled day. But you’ll have things to do the next day and Underoos will stay safely tucked in if you can avoid that third cocktail.
To conclude, I’d like to share one of the best lessons I’ve learned from conferences.
For every conference I attend, I add a layer to the writer in me. That is to say, through the people I meet, the classes I take, and the lectures I attend, I learn more about the craft. How, and when, and why, and what and all the technical attributes that come along with the delicate balance of creativity and grammatical science. But more than just the sum of these limitless parts, I learn a greater whole.
The whole that is me as a writer.
And in doing so, I’ve learned how to enjoy myself more at these kinds of functions by listening to my body, my brain, and my growing years of experience.
Back in the day, I would be hand-cramping from the steady stream of notes at each session. I would be tumbling from one to the next, chugging down coffee between in hopes to keep my energy up so I wouldn’t miss a thing. I would strategically place myself at the agent’s table who I wanted to garner the literary affections of. I would, in essence, be the adult version of my grade-school brown-nosing self.
Something happened one year, while at the meet and greet “networking” event. I found myself long past my emotional and mental boundary and crossing all lines of my introvert nature, to garner the attention of at least a few more experts in the field. I was mentally exhausted, untethered and I felt like I was on emotionally shaky ground. I realized after a long day of learning and being ‘on’ that I didn’t want to be there.
I didn’t understand my limits or that honoring them was at the core to being successful at a conference (and let’s face it, in life)
I thought I could talk it all day, learn it all day, do it all day. Nerding on a pro-level is a quintessential part of who I am. I loved hearing about other projects much more than I like talking about my own and reveled in the creativity and ingenuity of my fellow conference goers.
But…the more stories I heard, the more classes I took, the more advice I tried to apply—the less sure I became of my ability. The more tired I got, the more flustered I became, the wearier my mind, the less information I could process.
Until everything was just noise and words.
Then I learned a secret.
You don’t have to throw yourself under a bus to catch it.
Knowing your limits is not just useful in this particular scene. Knowing your limits is useful for all humans. And it comes with age and the ability to let go of unrealistic expectations.
During a few of my sessions, even as I listened to the speaker, I listened to myself. If I was inspired to write; I let myself write.
If the iron was hot, I struck while in the moment, abandoning the mad scribble of notes.
Did I miss a little of the presentations? Sure, but in the midst of other brilliant minds and the energy they impart, in the middle of shutting out the rest of the world, the heart and brain start to do this funny little dance and learn to play again.
Inspiration doesn’t always happen at the opportune times. You have to write when the words are ready and when the heart is open. Conferences have given my heart a doorway, an acceptance into writing what often builds up behind all my carefully constructed walls.
In years past, I’ve forced myself to jump the hurdles of social interaction and witty conversation until late hours, when all I really wanted was to wander off to a quiet room and take a nap.
I had to make it OK for myself to listen to that want, in order to get the most out of my time at conferences. These events open pathways, but only when we’re not too busy to see them. If we are embroiled in getting the most out of every single planned moment of the time, then we may miss the real lesson.
Creativity is like a river and if you fully submerged you’ll easily drown. You’ll miss the beauty of the ride, the view, and the sounds.
So, know yourself, Writer. Do the things that you know work for you. Let the river of creativity, carry you, but always leave yourself plenty of breathing room to be inspired.
July 11, 2024
Poetry 7-11-2024
Sometimes I like to pick up random notebooks, lying around my desk (there are several) and crack open the pages like looking in a dusty box in the attic. No reference to when or where it was last filled and sealed. Sometimes I find pieces of myself that had scribbled themselves on pages. Once out of my brain, I forgot about them. Sometimes I recognize that girl, shining on the page. Sometimes I long to be her. Sometimes, I am sad for her. Here’s a relic from a random ‘box’. (I should really put dates on these things)
CelestialOh, the lengths of letting go
I've undergone
This sun rises and sets and entire worlds
are made and destroyed
stars I once thought I revolved around,
sure that chaos would run the darkness if ever
I left their orbit
sputter and fade into nothing
Because the power of a world is
the power that I give it
The fire of a sun
springs from My well
The light in the dark is borne in
My heart
It did not exist before me
It will die without me
and so it goes
ever in the throes of change
So I'm not breathing life
into any more poisonous coals
they can suffer and wane
in the cold of my celestial shadow
in the passing of their time
and the Rebirth of mine
they will revolve around Me
as I am the center
they are just cold rocks,
caught in my gravity
I care not, I notice not
if they stick around
or become lost and distant sedimentary trash
pulled away from me
by their own faulted inertia
I continue on
always
July 4, 2024
In Honor of Rebellion
I wrote this blog nearly 6 years ago, before COVID-19, before the Black Lives Matter movement gained ground, before the staggering abuse of power from one of the most self-interested presidents we have had went full on “tear gas peaceful protesters so they don’t get in the shot of my photo op” crazy.
In the original version I was careful to try and not alienate readers with use of politics. Re-reading it now, after what we’ve all been through since the soon-to-be-dictator fucked our Justice System and took the foundations out of our democracy, I’m resubmitting it with more balls. (I never understood why “having balls” was equated with being tough. We all know those things can’t even withstand a little nut tap without shriveling into a vomit inducing pity party. They should really say “grow a vagina” or “have a uterus” those things can, as Betty White once said, “take a pounding”. Anyway—on to the point.) I’m submitting this with more ovaries.
Independence in our country used to mean the freedom to pursue our dreams. But now we’re finally opening our eyes to the fact that not everyone has the same opportunities for this pursuit. Discrimination based on race, the disparity between economic status, and various other homophobic, misogynistic, and white-power-driven stereotypes are collars that keep a majority of this nation underfoot and away from an “American Dream”. It was always really just a concept reserved for the continuation of power for those already in possession of it.
Here’s what I had to say so many years ago, adapted to call out the injustice I should have been brave enough to speak against before.
“Independence”
I’ve been listening to the “Hamilton” soundtrack, catering to my daughters’ obsession of the rhythmic and addictive lyrics. I realize there’s some language in it that many would deem inappropriate. But being a lover of all language and knowing my kids’ ability to differentiate between words used for flavoring and appropriate alternatives for mixed company, I don’t shy away from it. Because more important than a few f-bombs is the fact that they love it, and by loving it, they are learning from it.
I love it too. I love that this amazingly talented writer and performer (hats off to you, Lin-Manuel Miranda), took an overlooked story and breathed life and passion into for a new generation with quick-witted writing that tied the past with present day issues including but not limited to the fact that this country wasn’t built by white landowners but on the backs of the enslaved people they held captive for generations.
Hamilton is a snapshot of history and a reminder of the grit it took for our country to break free of tyranny. But that was only from a monarchy, unfair taxes, and regulations not suited for a free nation. We face so many more complex problems now, but at the root of our biggest challenges, is the imbalance of power and the very real threat of an un-punishable dictator taking the wheel and making sure all of his corrupt yes men have their day.
If ever there was a time to break free of the tyranny in our government and economic systems, this is it.
When did we stop thinking that revolutions didn’t work? When they shackled us all with overpriced living and underpaid wages? Was it when they lulled us into a sense of complacency by screaming that ‘real patriots’ never questioned their government? Was it when they told us what we could and couldn’t do with our own bodies? Was it when they defied the FIRST Amendment by posting a religious document in public schools, shoving Christianity down every students’ throat, while telling them what they could and couldn’t read in public libraries?
Does anyone else not think this is a direct remake of that old 1940’s hit, “Nazi, Germany”?
We should all strive to remember the past. When we don’t, we stop being on guard for the behaviors and situations that can lead to tragic ends in our own country. Germans were frogs in tepid water that did not notice they were being boiled alive as Hitler slowly and with great persuasive rhetoric (almost like a reality star) turned up the heat and murdered 6 million people. We are frogs in a simmering pot, people.
For the last decade we’ve been idle as a nation, allowing forgiveness for “jokes” that weren’t funny, shrugging off policies that bullied our allies, and looked away at the practice of placating dictators who held their own people beneath their boots. We allowed the highest court in the nation to be bought with favors and promises of power in return for Presidential Immunity and stripping half our population of their rights for body autonomy.
Some of you rolled our eyes. Some of you applauded. Some of you tried to justify his inability to understand complex foreign policy and economic issues by saying he was an outsider. (That’s like saying the intern you hired was given a roomful of mentors and material to study up on for the job and then shrugging when he runs the skid steer into a pile of propane tanks while smoking and jerking off, sans a mask, and shouting “I don’t need you idiots! I know exactly what I’m doing!”)
We are living beneath a new threat of the same old dissonant administration that seeks to divide us as a nation. and WE NEED TO REALIZE THAT WHEN ONE PERSON IN POWER DISENFRANCHISES ENTIRE GROUPS BASED ON THEIR GENDER, RACE, RELIGION, OR ECONOMIC STATUS IT SETS US BACK AS A NATION AND BURNS TO THE GROUND ANY FALSE CLAIM WE HOLD THAT ALL PEOPLE ARE CREATED EQUAL IN OUR ‘GREAT’ NATION.
In addition: The wealthiest in this nation are playing an old and tired game of making you believe its the poor, the immigrants, the non-Christians who are taking your jobs and wrecking this country, because the sure-fire way to keep in power is to fill your constituents with fear and best if its fear of the “other”. Two birds with one stone and all that…
HEAVEN FORBID, WE ALL REALIZED WHO THE REAL ENEMY TO OUR FREEDOM AND HAPPINESS WAS AND DECIDED WE SHOULD RISE UP AGAINST THEM.
On this day, I want you to consider what it means to you to have independence.
Think about this country. Think about what makes you proud of it (if there’s anything anymore.)
We were a bunch of ragtag rebels once. Who burned things and refused to be taxed without representation. Who stood up to an upper ruling class who didn’t give two shits about us. Our country was built on the riots of people who had enough of injustice. That’s why the FIRST amendment of our constitution guarantees the right to protest. Because for all the stupid ways those first founders screwed up, at least they recognized that a country full of free and empowered people is stronger than those kept under the shiny shoe of a narcissistic dictator.
Revolutions rarely take a day. They are years in the making, with sacrifices of blood and lives. Revolutions are not free. There is a cost to rise up against the powers that seek to tie us, bind us, use our one precious lifetime for their own gain.
I could tell you to sit back, relax, enjoy the barbecues and hot dogs, slather your standard American body down with potato salad and jump into a kiddie pool filled with Bud Light (*or some “truly” American beer that wouldn’t advocate for human rights?*) while waving sparklers from every available appendage…but I won’t.
Today I’m going to tell you to remember the past, remember the fight. Remember there are things worth standing up for and things don’t change unless you rise up and change them.
Free yourself from the fear, trepidation, and self-doubt that keeps you from standing up for the rights of every man, woman, all-those-between, and child in this country. We are Americans and we stand together against the forces that seek to keep any one of us down.
Rise up.
Don’t give away your shot.
Be young, scrappy, and hungry, and take back your life, your country, your Supreme Court and the principles that sparked revolution and never give up the fight to win freedom for all of us to pursue happiness.
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News and Updates
It very rarely occurs to me to write a “news” letter to you all. I know! I know! It’s the basic Marketing 101 cornerstone of Author pages. You can imagine how many times I get the glaring remark of “What do you mean you don’t DO a newsletter?” passed down noses and in no small measure of disgust.
Listen…truth is, I rarely read newsletters. They fill up my in box, I feel like I should read them, but life is busy and its low priority. I don’t want to be some unopened email in your box, taking up space and upticking your stress. Plus, I very rarely have much to say about the goings-on of my life, writerly or otherwise. I write. I edit. I’m working on projects, but I’m not going to tell you about them unless it looks like they might actually make it into the world. The rest of my life is pretty non-invasive and I absolutely abhor bragging, especially the “humble” kind.
It isn’t that I’m not proud when something good happens. Of course I am, it’s justification right? That what we do is seen and appreciated? There’s nothing wrong with that. But I don’t want to fall into the trap of resting on my laurels because something I once scribbled down was appreciated enough to earn a sticker for the cover. I’m a writer, whether I get noticed or not. That being said (in an unnecessarily lengthy way) here’s the latest stuff and what I have coming up.
You might recall a few months ago I was nominated for the Colorado Book Awards.
It was an incredible honor and I’ve been submitting to that award for years. Well, the announcement was last Friday night and….I didn’t win, but it’s ok. It was a great evening and I was honored to be amongst so many talented writers and supportive people in the humanities.
So it looks like the next thing I have to do is…keep writing.
On that note, I’ve sent out my first LGBTQ+ romance (Male-Male) to my beta/sensitivity readers and am anxiously waiting for their feedback. That story (if it’s not completely rejected) will start airing in Vella at the start of October. Super excited about it, I love the characters and the storyline. In more Westbury news, I will be publishing Westbury Falls in a book format, hopefully by September of this year. The rest of the summer will be dedicated to trying to get that ready. I’ll even have some sneak peeks of cover design and art out in the coming weeks.
In July, I’m helping my Youth with their first anthology (in the dark depths of formatting currently) and that should be out mid-month. We hope to release it on the eve of the Writing Heights Writers Association Conference (register here), at a special ceremony celebrating our young writers. If you want to attend let me know or register on the site. It will be a wonderful and informative conference.
Lastly, I’m preparing to teach four separate workshops at the 2025 Colorado Writers Gold Conference hosted by the Rocky Mountain Fiction Writers in late September (check it out here). I’m a little nervous as this is the biggest conference I’ve attended and taught at, but I think it’s going to be a fantastic adventure. Classes I’ll be teaching: The Year of 100 Rejections, Beyond Romance: Crafting Character Relationships, Creativity and The Writer’s Mind, and How to Write like a Martial Artist (including self-defense basics). So if you’re interested in coming to watch me squirm in a dress…there you go.
What else? Um…I’m researching for a new play (comedy, absurdest, derivative) and I’m shopping my literary fiction around in hopes I can have it published/contracted by the end of the year. I’m also working on booking the Fall retreat for WHWA and I’ll send along that information soon.
Now you know way more about my writing/editing. I hope you have a good summer and that this blog announcement isn’t just sitting in your inbox to be deleted, unread, at a later day. But you know what, from one newsletter avoider to another, I’m cool with that. Take care!
June 20, 2024
Life and a Bit of Poetry
I have to be honest. I didn’t get a post written this week. I’m actually surprised I’m even getting it done the day of. But if nothing else, I believe it’s consistency that builds skill, trust, and a life in total. So here’s a slap-dash post.
First, I’ve been truly busy this week working on a labor of love: The 2024 Writing Heights Youth Anthology (Name to be revealed soon!) I’m the Youth Coordinator and every month I plan out a lesson and writing prompts and load my heart up with lots of joy and compassion to teach a free class to teenagers about writing. We have about 15 in person and virtual students and the class varies in size depending on the stresses of school and life and other activities. But the work and I are always there (see above about consistency)
So far, the group has put together nearly a hundred pages of poetry, prose, fiction and non fiction pieces about life from their perspectives and stories from their imaginations. And its pretty damn good, if I do say so. Along the way, they’ve learned how to explore different modes of writing, critiquing and editing and what it means to communicate with each other and the world. This anthology is about more than just their first publishing credit, and getting paid for words. It’s about trusting in their voices, and learning that speaking up and speaking out is one of the greatest tools they will ever have to change their world and lead their own unique and beautiful lives.
That being said, I struggle with formatting and arrangement so… the majority of my time has been in trying to get each font just right, within the proper margins, and editing those pesky lines a few more times. The book should be out in July and I’ll let you know when the big release date is. Until then, if you’re interested in donating anything to the organization, you can contact Amy or Jess at director@writingheights.com . It’ll help us offset the costs of publishing, make sure the kids are paid for their hard work, and get the good word out about the program.
Now, I’ve gotta go try to make a table of contents *shudder*. Here’s some poetry.
Reluctant HopeEvery morning I wake
with a shuddering light of hope
in my chest
Weary from the day before
denied sustenance and light in kind
Yet, somehow...
I still wake with it
It strikes me as foolish
to hold on to this frail bird of a thing
in the dark cavern of my chest
neighbor to the empty heartbeats
that pump sanguine rivers
to heavy limbs
Still, she settles there
a stray who found warmth
on an otherwise rough
and dirty-guttered street
And when my eyes open
she blinks too
pulls my granite limbs up
like stringed fingers to a puppet
and whispers
a wind through grasses
from far away shores
of better days
That today
today
this day
will be better
Shuddering, flickering,
a loose bulb swinging in a dark room
making an arched smile as she dances
we'll make today better
June 13, 2024
Poetry 6-13-2024
let’s make a list
of all the things
I didn’t do
of all the tasks
still uncrossed
the boxes
unchecked
and measure my worth by them.
How it had been months
since I last dusted well
and when some fog of
depression lifted
and I stared in disgust
he breathed a sigh
of ‘finally’ relief
and happily let me scrub them down
even seeing my obvious self-loathing
what did you do with your day?
I erased months of my skin cells
erased months of myself
with disgust at the oily build up
of what I’ve become…
but no matter how much grey brown filth
I rinse down the drain
I’m still here
were that my cells finite,
and every time I shed
I just became smaller
and smaller
and smaller
until one day
I would blink out of existence.
a last checked box
disappear,
check.
June 6, 2024
When Art Becomes A Business
I’ve been thinking about this for a long time. And I’m not sure if its an American Capitalism (should be capitalized right?) thing, or a global disease but…at what point did we stop valuing art and creation if it wasn’t…profitable?
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These birthing pains gave way to an entire generation of people who were forced to work at acceptable jobs and “dabble” in art. Which gave way to people “hustling” in their art and marketing the shit out of their soul’s best guess of humanity, to make it ‘real’ by turning a dollar sign. This is where we are. Art has been reduced to…a commodity. And if it doesn’t sell…it isn’t worthwhile…
There are countries that don’t charge artists taxes. Did you know that? That if they’re producing art (writing, painting, illustration, music, etc.) they are exempt from the toil of paying their country extra money. Why? In America that would never fly! Why should they be off the hook
Let me ask you…What do you do in your free time?
You don’t work more. You don’t put out more spreadsheets, or call more clients, or cut more hair, or take an extra shift for fun…you read. You…go to museums…you watch plays…you visit the botanical gardens… you go to a movie. These little “acts of joy” sometimes even keep you from jumping off a bridge. They inspire your mind, they take you out of the daily grind and…hustle.
…is that not of value? Does feeding your soul not count as a necessity?
I’m on a soap box, I get it. You’ve probably stopped reading. But in case you haven’t, please consider
…humanity has survived and thrived because we have had more than just survival to aim for. There is joy and purpose to feast off of. Art makes life. In the event of an apocalypse… could you even imagine not trying to save the art, the books, the music… the decadent history (and prehistory) of the humanistic howls into the universe that scream… “we are here and we feel”?
What is there to appreciate beyond it? Art brings us together, it connects us, it’s a shared experience and a deeper rooted truth than almost any paycheck. And yet…it has been reduced to: how many followers, how much in royalties, how many people ‘liked’ it, how many people went to your show, what the script writer made and if they have potential for more (we don’t pay if you don’t have at least three seasons)…
I beg of you, if you have funds in the strapped and dystopian financial climate that is America now… support your artists. They don’t even have to be me. Just…find something that you love, that moves you and…tell the artist, write them, speak to them, throw some money their way. Remind them…They are important. They are the story up on the wall of a cave…that proves a defiant resistance to the endless march of time. The voice in the dark, the color in the black and white that speaks; we are here.
We were here.
Art matters. And the only people telling you it doesn’t, are the people that cannot profit from it.
May 30, 2024
Move, Pitch, Get Out the Way
Yeah, I did just title this blog that…No, I’m not sorry. Yes, I hope that song plays in your head all day. Yes, it may seem “Ludacris”. Yes, I did just make a dad joke out of it. No, you can’t get a refund, this shit is free.
This is actually a post from a couple of years ago, but oddly enough, I’m headed up tonight to the Wyoming Writers Conference again. And again, I’ll be pitching. So I’ve tweaked a few things but the advice remains solid. I hope it can help you.
Now, on to the blog
This week, tonight actually, I’ll be pitching a novel to a publishing company at the Wyoming Writers Conference in Casper, Wyoming. I know that this should be something I do at least every year but with the past couple of years spent in catching up and starting new jobs, and my creativity taking a giant dump of late, I haven’t had the drive, material, or need to throw myself into the ring.
But, by strange happenstance, the novel that I started at last year’s WWConference in Laramie, turned out to be one of my favorite books. Its a strange blossoming feeling of re-reading it and having it punch me in the gut and make me laugh-cry. I could independently publish it. But…the past years have taught me, that there’s no shame in rejection or in throwing your heart in the ring, especially when you really believe in something you’ve created. So I slammed the breaks down and took a breath. A pause. A consideration. That if the story was “Well written, with a voice we really like” that maybe I should give it another tour around the pasture before sending it out, on my own.
So here I am again, years later, still sweaty palmed, reading and re-reading, and choking on my elevator pitch and changing it a dozen times to get the most depth of the story in the fewest words. And it’s exhausting. The sudden surge of trepidation inspired me go through some of my notes from previous classes and books on pitching. And here’s what I have to offer:
Agents and publishers are human beings. They’ve probably slept horribly, are sore and uncomfortable from sitting, have heard a lot of story ideas, and are probably thinking about the cash bar. Just like you. So don’t treat them like a god up on Olympus by cowering or waving tribute in their faces. Be kind, be polite, and use some of your allotted time to treat them with dignity and respect. They’re there because they love reading and want to find a good story.Tell them why you love your story. Yes, yes, the general plot, genre, main character and conflict…but what is it about your book that fills your heart. Why do you find a reason to read and re-read it? What were some of the best compliments you receive from your beta readers. Human beings respond to enthusiasm and genuine admiration. Otherwise, we’d never watch baseball. Moving on.Be organized. Have a synopsis ready, bring a query letter and your business card. It’s been a long day for them and you; stories might start running together and they may need a gentle reminder what the 4:55 pm pitch was.Be open to suggestions and critique. Whoof, this one is hard, right? After all, we just gushed about what we love in our book. While you love it (or hate it depending on how many goddamn times you’ve had to read it and rewrite it) it is also a good time, before you sit down at that table, to think of your fledgling story like a kid going off to college. Its stepping out into the world to be made better, smarter, stronger. It has a lot to learn, so let it be open to becoming something more and living up to its potential. It isn’t a reflection on you as a parent, it’s a starting point for even more amazing results to come.Follow up. I’ve sat in the pitch sessions where every agent gave me their card and asked for ten pages. I thought I was a goddamn genius and that they’d be engaged in a bidding war over my book within weeks. Um…hate to ruin the ending there but THAT didn’t happen. Sometimes agents are required by the conferences they attend to receive a certain number of pitches. Sometimes an agent is mildly interested and looking for something to pad up their own resume. Sometimes they’re just bust-ass tired and like a parent giving in and handing their kid a remote cause they just can’t listen anymore, they pass along their card with a defeated…”stay in touch”. That being said, if it happens, act as though it’s the bidding war situation, not the tired parent. Send them what they asked for, in the format they asked for it in, and be respectful with your letter. ALWAYS INCLUDING: your name, that you met at ‘such and such conference’ and that they requested your pages. If you can, PLEASE include some other more personal detail. “It was fun talking to you about your dog, Jasper” (write that kind of thing down on their business card) but don’t make it too personal “I hope your rash has cleared up.” (that’s creepy)After it’s all said and done a pitch session is like any other interaction introverts dread. You have to talk, somewhat excitedly, about something you love and worked hard on, and thereby risk rejection and public shaming. But please remember that the person sitting across from you is also probably an introvert (or works with a lot of them) and just wants you to tell them a good story.
Good luck out there, and if you’ll be in Casper this weekend for the conference I’d love to sit down and chat about pitches, your book, all the wonderful things we’re working on. Happy writing.
May 23, 2024
poetry 5-23-2024
Gentle Pressure, Applied Ruthlessly
Watch the way, the bouncy ends of the pinyon
waver to every wind blown
see the arch of their spines, the reminder
that the pressure of her breath is constant
and unyielding
She is invisibility and discretion of power
Her presence, ethereal and it seems
mere trickery
until it is applied
day in,
day out,
to the tender aspirations of every tree,
Only then, when they are grown
in twisted sculptures
Leaned away and in piety of her face
do we see the influence
of the wind that raised them
S.E. Reichert
May 16, 2024
Rediscovering Purpose
It’s a strange world out there kids. Even if you live under a rock, its hard to ignore all of the things that are currently affecting our lives and world. Massive super cell tornados, vapid and un-checked streaming information, rights being taken away, innocents being bombed, people starving, other’s rolling in stupid amounts of money…its enough to make a conscious person’s head spin.
And mine has been spinning for awhile. And then, even with all of the big picture stuff, looming, you still have to do something about your own, micro world. Your family, your job, your community, your life. Doesn’t it all seem a little too much to anyone else? I worry that if I shrink the world down, I won’t take action when I can to help others. I worry if I get to caught up in the overwhelming outside world, I’ll forget the good I can do with the people I love, closest to me. I’m, as Bilbo once said, too little butter scraped across the bread.
I’m at a retreat this week, helping to keep the thing running smoothly and encouraging this great group of writers in attendance and we’ve been at the mercy of some pretty terrible weather the last three days. The hikes and quiet world-expanding I’d hoped for haven’t happened. I’m shrunken down into my room, my group, and my work and I’m trying to not pull a Jack a la “The Shining”. We can hear our crazy louder and more clear when we’re forced into the silence.
Watching so many of my fellow writers getting work done, and having epiphanies, and making progress has been such a joy. But its also frustrating, because despite being here, and away from the rest of the world, I still feel stuck. I guess when the trap is your own head, it doesn’t matter how much you change the scenery. I’m making lists and doing a lot of the ‘safe’ work of editing and administrative to-dos. I’ve written a few poems. I’ve taken notes on classes. But what I haven’t done is gotten lost in the beautiful alpha state of writing and it’s something that always sweeps me up at a retreat.
Maybe there’s too much responsibility. Maybe I’m just not in the right head space. Maybe there’s a stress level, worrying about everyone and everything else besides my writing. All I know is that I will spare myself some time today and look forward in my own life. Make a list if need be (virgos love lists) of what I need, going forward to recapture my sense of purpose. Not just in writing. But in life.
I hope that you spare yourself some space in the middle of this crazy world today, and do the same. Could you imagine if we all woke up tomorrow, renewed and ready to make this world a little better?
That’s something to set an intention for.
