What I learned when I pitched for the First Time

How’s Your Pitch? I wanna know! I’m Fresh off of BookMARCon, the largest virtual marketing conference powered by BookBrush, and I had the fantastic opportunity to pitch to agents during the conference. Today, I want to share the invaluable insights I gained from this experience.

Before I had the chance to pitch my work, we were treated to two separate and insightful sessions with experienced literary agents. Mark Gottlieb, of Trident Media Group, and Bethany Jett, of the Cyle Young Literary Agency, graciously shared their expertise. They offered invaluable guidance not just to me, but to the entire conference on the art of pitching.

Each agent had their own individual segment during which they covered different aspects of the process. Mark’s approach differed from Bethany’s, yet both were profoundly insightful. Their advice was timely, as my pitch sessions were scheduled after these seminars.

This setup proved to be serendipitous. I absorbed so much from both agents that I found myself reevaluating my own pitch. In a surprising turn, I decided to change the book I was initially planning to pitch entirely.

This wasn’t a decision I took lightly, but after listening intently to Mark and Bethany’s insights, I felt compelled to pitch a completely different book. And, as fate would have it, this proved to be the right call. An agent expressed interest and requested to see the first ten pages of this new book—an opportunity that may not have materialized had I not attended Mark and Bethany’s sessions first. I am immensely grateful for the knowledge imparted by these two remarkable agents and for the opportunity that followed my pitch. Let me know if this is in line with what you were envisioning or if you need further revisions!

Lucky for me, I had a stack of manuscripts and a whirlwind of different ideas ready to roll. Here’s a golden nugget for my fellow writers: always pack more than one project in your pocket. You just never know when an agent might perk up and ask, “What else ya got?”

As a multi-genre author with ADD, I’m pretty much a creative tornado—I’m here, there, and zooming everywhere, which anyone who knows me will cheerfully confirm. Far from being a hindrance, this constant buzz of energy was my secret weapon during these pitch sessions. It gave me the flexibility to switch lanes on a dime and dazzle potential agents with a vibrant array of stories. If you’re like me, hone it in so you don’t zap the life out of them by talking too much.

But here are. The things that I learned while pitching

First

Nail that word count. If you’re in the dark about the word count expectations within traditional publishing, hit up Google and enlighten yourself. I won’t dish out the details here—I’m not claiming to be the expert. But here’s a real-life nugget from my experience: while pitching a military drama to an agent, he flagged the sweet spot as 80,000 to 100,000 words. When he caught wind of my word count, my chances took a hit on site. My tally? A 39,000 and change. (P.S.—I served him the exact number, so be sure you do the same.)

Switching gears, when I was pitching a romance to another agent, my manuscript clocked in at around 20,000, give or take a few hundred words. Now, anyone who knows CJ (that’s me!) knows I’m a bonafide short story enthusiast. I always have been. I don’t dish up heaping helpings of narrative; I’m more of a straight-to-the-heart-of-the-matter writer. Blame it on my ADD if you like, but I operate by a no-frills, get-to-the-point style. It’s a quirky saying, but it’s a mantra that fits me to a tee: “Straight in, no kissing.” It’s unconventional, but hey, it’s me, and I embrace it wholeheartedly.

It’s all about hitting that bottom line in the traditional publishing world. And let’s be honest, a bundle of short stories isn’t typically the golden ticket to meeting those financial goals. So, 99.9% of the time, you’ve got to hit those word counts—like, really nail them—to match up with traditional publishing standards. It’s almost as essential as your morning coffee!

But hey, if you’re venturing into the self-publishing scene, the playground is a whole lot wider. You’ve got room to experiment, stretch out or condense down, and find the word count that feels just right for your story. But before you waltz into a pitch with a traditional publisher, give your manuscript a hard look. Is it playing by the big league rules? Because sealing the deal is a lot sweeter when you’re already hitting those magic numbers.

Second

Here’s a golden nugget that almost slipped past me, but luckily, I got the memo just in time for my pitch sessions: if you’re pitching fiction, bring a complete novel to the table. Yup, start to finish, it’s got to be done. But if nonfiction is your jam, you’re in luck; you can pitch a brilliant idea just bursting to be brought to life.

I was revved up about pitching a middle-grade novel—a series, actually—that I’m currently crafting; just four chapters in, but hey, I write fast. In my mind, I was like, “This is no biggie. This novel is golden, and I’m going to pitch it.” Middle grade is my jam, the niche I cherish the most, and there was this one agent at the conference who specializes in it. It felt like fate.

My series? Picture Narnia colliding with Sabrina the Teenage Witch and Charmed—a blend that’s as magical as it sounds. I was buzzing with the thought, “This is the one that will swing doors wide open for me!”

But brace for the plot twist: you don’t pitch incomplete novels in traditional publishing. That’s a rookie mistake I nearly made. They’ll basically say, “That’s not done baking. Got anything else fresh out of the oven?” Oh, the heartbreak that revelation was! I picked that agent specifically to pitch this book, and I had to pivot hard.

So, I switched gears and chatted with him about a romance novel instead. Even though my pitches didn’t quite spark fireworks—whether because I didn’t hit the word count or for some other mystery reason—it was a learning experience for the books.

Third

Be a presence, I mean, be Googleable! Here’s a quick tip: pop open an Incognito browser, type in your pen name—or the name you plan to publish under—and hit the search button. What comes up? Are you visible? Do you have a footprint in the literary world?

I’m not talking about just because you’ve published a book but because you are actively engaging, sharing, and discussing your craft. Shine that spotlight on yourself and craft a platform. Why? Because it sends a clear signal to agents and publishers that you’re not just a writer but a proactive promoter of your work. You’re willing to roll up your sleeves for them, just as they are for you.

Think of it as a two-way street—a mutually beneficial relationship. It’s a partnership, after all. Does this mean publishers won’t take a chance on someone without a platform? No, that’s not the case. But remember, they’re placing a bet on you. So why not stack the deck in your favor? Give them a compelling reason to take that chance on you.

Fourth

Alright, here’s an insider tip that struck a chord with me. One agent, just one, explicitly mentioned this, but it resonated deeply—and I suspect other agents might be on the same wavelength, even if they didn’t say it outright. So here it is: if you’re already self-published and haven’t hit a milestone—say, 10,000 book sales (not dollars, we’re talking actual copies sold)—consider pitching under a fresh pen name. Why? Because, in the eyes of traditional publishers, your current name might be sporting a ‘been there, tried that’ vibe.

Now, let me get personal for a sec. I’ve got a bookshelf’s worth of published work—over 20 books. But here’s the kicker: none of those titles has danced past the 10,000 sales mark. Nope, not one. I haven’t landed in the six-figure author club (yet!).

But hey, Google me—whether as CJ Ives Lopez or The Authors Porch—and you’ll find I’ve got a platform that’s alive and kicking. But in terms of raw sales? My pen name isn’t setting the world on fire. And that’s OK.

Fifth

Stay in the know about the tropes that are sizzling hot in the market—and aim to hit those marks in your work. Make it your mission to become a trope connoisseur within your genre. What’s classic and beloved, what’s gaining traction, and what’s as overplayed as a summer hit on repeat? More importantly, identify the tropes that make your readers cringe—those are the ones to avoid, like a plot hole in a mystery novel. If certain tropes in your genre are reader repellents, steer clear.

But here’s a twist: if you’ve got a soft spot for a trope that most readers can’t stand, but a niche absolutely adores, you might just have found your golden ticket. If your heart beats for that trope, write it—passionately and unabashedly. Then, find your tribe of readers who will devour your work, those loyal fans who will return for more, time and time again.

If you’re racking up impressive sales with this approach, you’re crafting a compelling case for an agent. Picture yourself saying, “Just take a look at these numbers.” It could be your key to making an agent sit up, take notice, and decide that you’re a chance worth taking.

Sixth

First and foremost, have a gripping hook ready for when an agent asks, “What do you have?” In my own experience, I was eager to start with my tagline when pitching my military drama. I found myself diving into Christian’s journey, detailing his struggles in the military. But, crucially, I initially left out a key selling point: my story was a fictionalized blend of two real-life veterans’ experiences—soldiers who faced immense challenges while transitioning from military service and grappling with mental health issues, their stories unfolding over smoky conversations in the Area of Operations.

To my surprise, one insightful agent taught me which line should open my pitch. I was floored—was this seasoned professional really offering me this golden advice? Gratefully armed with this new insight, I adjusted my approach for my next pitch to a different agent. As I spoke, I caught a twinkle of interest in that agent’s eyes. They were nearly sold—until we hit the all-important word count issue. And just like that, the atmosphere shifted.

This experience was eye-opening.

Agents are more than gatekeepers; they are seasoned industry pros, many of whom are eager to impart their wisdom. If you approach these conversations as a willing student rather than a relentless salesperson, you stand to gain invaluable insights. Otherwise, you risk repeating the same mistakes and missing the chance to refine your pitch for future opportunities.

My strategy was simple yet effective. I greeted each agent warmly: “Hi, nice to meet you.” After exchanging pleasantries, and upon their prompt, I succinctly delivered my prepared pitch in a clean 30 seconds. Then, crucially, I stepped back to let them lead. They taught; I absorbed. When a pause in the conversation naturally arose, I seized the moment to contribute more.

The key here is balance. I avoided becoming so engrossed in selling my work that I closed myself off from learning. And, despite failing to meet the word count and initially stumbling in my pitch to the first agent (who graciously taught me a better approach), two out of the four agents requested sections of my manuscripts.

Don’t become so fixated on selling that you forget to listen. Listening, after all, is not just a sign of respect—it’s among the most powerful skills you can hone in writing and life.

It was very interesting.

Seventh

Know your genre inside and out—it’s non-negotiable. If you’re fuzzy on the specifics of your chosen genre, prepare for a tough road ahead. Agents will quiz you, probing for depth and breadth of knowledge. While they aren’t necessarily averse to multi-genre authors, they tread carefully. Unless you’re a proven bestseller, a diverse writing portfolio can give agents pause. It’s not that they are biased; instead, they’re searching for focus.

When an agent takes a chance on you, they’re staking their reputation—and significant resources—on your potential. Understandably, they want assurance that you’re committed to the genre they’re championing. From their perspective, an author juggling multiple genres might be spreading themselves too thin, risking quality and attention to detail.

Think of it as a matter of trust. For example, risk assessment is paramount in my professional life. My team is small—just my husband and me. We’re careful about our ventures because our livelihood is on the line. It’s our entire world at stake.

That’s a sentiment agents share. When they commit to you, they’re not just inking a deal—they’re making a substantial investment, sometimes tens of thousands of dollars. And they need to believe wholeheartedly that you are a sound investment.

So, if you’re a multi-genre author, the bar is high. Excellence isn’t optional; it’s mandatory. You need to show that you’re versatile and possess deep expertise and commitment in each genre you tackle. You must demonstrate that your craft isn’t diluted by your range but rather enriched by it.

To put it plainly: Do the work. Master your genre(s), and show agents that your focus is laser-sharp, regardless of how broad your writing spectrum is.

Eighth

When you send your manuscript, attention to detail matters. Use New Times Roman, 12-point font, double spacing, and one-inch margins. This industry standard shows you’re a professional who knows the ropes.

Your manuscript’s opening must be catchy—it needs to halt agents in their tracks. Make them catch their breath and compel them to read on. For example, I received feedback about the apparent lack of conflict in my romance novel. The characters were on a delightful road trip, seemingly conflict-free. But their internal struggles—his urban background clashing with her rural roots, the tension of acceptance amongst their families—were the conflicts I’d embedded. It was a subtler form of conflict, but it was there, but it wasn’t enough.

And that’s a critical point: your manuscript must have conflict. Whether it’s a loud, clashing crescendo or a quiet, internal struggle, conflict drives the narrative. I adore a swoon-worthy story, but even those need tension to keep readers engaged. Agents (and readers) love ‘juice’—that delicious tension that keeps pages turning. Present this conflict clearly when pitching; agents thirst for that juice, so be generous and pour it liberally!

Finally

As for my own pitching experience? I met with four incredible agents (no, I won’t name names—it was a personal dialogue, and I respect that privacy). One apologized for being harsh, but as a 20-year military veteran, I welcomed the candor. In fact, I didn’t find it harsh at all. I’m here to learn, and direct feedback is the fast track to improvement.

Every single agent was kind, even when the feedback was tough. Going in, I half-expected to be ‘eaten alive.’ I knew my books might not tick every box, from tropes to word count. But after five dedicated years in the literary world, this is my dream, and I knew it was time to learn directly from those in the know.

I’m not one to tiptoe around, cautiously testing the waters. I dive in. I present my work and say, “Here it is, flaws and all. Teach me.” That’s how I grow, and it’s invigorating.

But that’s just me. Your journey? It’s yours to shape. Reflect on who you are as a writer, what you want, and how you best learn. Let that guide your path.

Until next time, my friends,
CJ

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