Prior to the Covid mess I posted my intention of attending the August 2020 Writer's Digest Annual Conference in New York, where I would pitch my novel to several live agents. Of course all that went by the board as cases skyrocketed. Rather than cancel the conference, the organizers are hosting a virtual conference using some super-elaborate software to create a "world class meeting experience" that I will enjoy...in my basement early next month.
Instead of sitting across from a real live agent and stammering through my pitch, I will instead host a "virtual booth" containing my photo, a link to this very blog, and a 90-second video of me...pitching. The video will be an especially tedious and terrifying prospect because I don't consider myself all that telegenic. Maybe I'll wear a mask. A full-face mask. A Zorro mask!
In all fairness--if we must be fair--it's a pretty neat format. The major downside, other than not meeting face-to-face with agents via Zoom or Skype, is that we'll be communicating via keyboard in private chat rooms. So instead of exposing my weakness at in-the-flesh extemporaneous conversation, I'll be exposing my weakness at typing back and forth at lightning speed and thus accumulating a mountain of typos in the process.
I guess the actual benefit of participating in the so-called "Pitch Slam" remains the same. My work will be on display to at least 3 agents who are required to give a modicum of feedback. Also, any agent at the conference can view my virtual booth and contact me if they have any interest. Plus, there will be an array of riveting sessions on writing, marketing, and promotion by well-known industry folks.
Overall, I'm glad they didn't postpone the event, because I intend to make the conference my last grand gesture at marketing my book and didn't care to postpone that act of self-flagellation for another year.