Diary of a Pitch Whore

Hi, my name’s Kathleen Zoll, and I’m excited to pitch you today because…

Ah, the live pitch. Even under the best of circumstances it’s anxiety-producing, tongue-tying, heart-pounding. Me being me, however, I’ve found ways to add entirely new dimensions to the emotional trauma associated with the cherished rite (write) of passage as conducted over Zoom. So here it is.

TOP FIVE WEIRD PLACES FROM WHICH I HAVE LIVE-PITCHED AN AGENT

5) A rest stop on the Merritt Parkway.

Heading home after visiting my brother, I was crawling through the dreaded Parking Lot that is the Merritt Parkway on a Sunday afternoon. I’d hoped to make it to Sleepy Hollow, New York. Not because it was convenient; because of how cool it would be to say I pitched a novel from Sleepy Hollow. Alas, traffic had other plans. I pulled into a Subway/Dunkin’/mini-market rest stop somewhere near Darby, CT, and pitched among the exquisite ambience of greasy meatball subs, stale glazed donuts, and flickering fluorescent lighting.

4) Glacier Bay, Alaska.

Yes, I pitched from a cruise ship. What can I say? I’m a pitch whore. I paid the nine-hundred-million dollars (give or take) for the cruise internet package. As the other passengers of Holland America’s Volendam goggled at Margery Glacier, I sat in my cabin, laptop perched on top of the ice bucket at the small desk to give me a better angle. I did turn the camera at the end to show the view to the agent—because if you’re going to sell your soul for your manuscript, you might as well do so with icebergs in the background.

3) A moving train between New York City and Trenton.

New York City is home to a wonderful writer friend, Jerome, and I’d gone up to interview him for my YouTube channel, with my bestie Christine and her husband in tow. The plan: return to Trenton in time to pitch from the shade of the peaceful trees just outside the Transit Center. The reality: NJ Transit laughed. I pitched standing—swaying—in the aisle while Christine held my notes beneath my phone like a Broadway stage mom mouthing lines. Hopefully I picked up a few fans from the train car?

2) A (reputedly) haunted B&B in Gettysburg.

Christine and I attended a literary event in a place rumored to home several long-dead Union soldiers. She made prominent connections toward her author platform. I made a connections with an agent—and possibly a spirit. No request from that one, but I’m blaming the presence of a grumpy Civil War critic. Medieval fantasy just wasn’t his battlefield. He probably wanted to know if the dragons would help defeat the Confederacy.

1) The bathroom of a moving tour bus in the Yukon Territory.

Yes, you read that right—the crown jewel (to date) of my pitching adventures. During the same Alaskan cruise, we took an excursion on the White Rail Pass and bus tour into the Yukon territory. A delay at the depot meant we were still barreling down a mountain road when my pitch slot arrived. So I did what any self-respecting writer would do. I dove into the tiny odiferous bathroom, turned on the charm, and pitched like I stood in Carnegie Hall. Meanwhile, my friend had to assure the rest of the bus that I was not in there losing my mind and talking to the empty toilet-paper roll—I was just aiming to land a literary agent.

Clearly at this point I’m an old pro at the weird. The idea that my next pitch might take place at a desk in a quiet room with zero motion sickness? That frankly seems pedestrian. I might have to spice things up. Anyone have a map and a dartboard?