Selling

Recently Lynn asked us to imagine ourselves in a situation where we might be able to make a pitch to an agent. Apart from highlighting what an oddly creative bunch of people hang around her blog, the imaginary scenario she set up left me feeling slightly uneasy.

I recently had the pleasure of dining in a fine restaurant with Jane Johnson, who seems to be in charge of just about everything at Harper Collins these days. Admittedly Stuart was there too, and Agent Phil (trying to wear his cranachan), but I got to sit directly opposite one of the best editors publishing work in the genres I write.

Did I pitch her my work? No I didn't. We talked about writing - she knew I was a writer, but we also talked about climbing mountains in Morocco and many other unrelated things. I just didn't feel happy trying to sell her one of my stories.

Perhaps it was because it was Stuart's day - the launch of Cold Granite. Perhaps it was because I am very shy, particularly with people I consider to be in authority. I call it Headmaster Syndrome, and I suspect it goes back to my early school days, when I was in perpetual terror of the teachers, who would turn on me and dole out terrible punishments for misdemeanours I couldn't even understand.

But mostly I didn't pitch because the evening meal was down time. It was a bit of relaxation from the endless hussle of the job. It certainly wasn't the time to have to listen to some bearded nitwit babbling on about dragons. I would have approached her later, when she was at work, but HC won't accept anything unless it comes through an agent first. If I can persuade an agent to take me on (and this is a work in progress), then the first thing I will suggest is that they get in touch with Jane and pitch her my novel. With luck, she may even remember who I am, and at least it was Phil making a fool of himself that evening, not me.

Am I right in this approach to selling? Or is my reticence the reason why I remain unpublished?