I write near-future, dystopian,
post-apocalyptic, grid collapse, survival, prepper fiction and some other
stuff. It’s not an “elevator pitch” but it’s accurate.
In the brave new world of
publishing, getting your work “out there” in front of the public, above the
morass of titles being published (i.e. marketing) can be a bigger job than writing
the stinking book. It’s true. And part of that challenge is the elevator
speech/pitch.
Presumably, while riding in an
elevator with the Queen of All Things Publishable, an author needs to have a pithy,
engaging description of her book that lasts the duration of the elevator ride.
I have questions. How tall is
the building? How big is the elevator? Should the elevator pitch include an introduction?
Is it stinky in the elevator?
For example, should I find
myself in the presence of a mover and shaker on an elevator: “Excuse me, Queen
of All Things Publishable, my name is Linda L. Zern—yes, formal, I know—but it
makes me feel taller to have the extra L. in there.” I take a breath. “My
goodness, what is that smell?” Doors slide open and the Queen pushes me out of
the way to escape the smell of big city fun wafting up from the corner of the
elevator.
Anyway, my elevator pitch is a
work in progress. Here’s the raw material I’m working with if I ever corner the
Queen of All Things Publishable in a smelly elevator.
Near-Future: Not in the far
away space-alien future. Tomorrow, or one possible tomorrow, should the trucks
quit rolling, the grocery store shelves empty, and people start having to poop
in the streets. Oops, I mean everywhere, not just San Fran.
Dystopian: A genre dedicated to
the collapse of civilization and the ensuing chaos—sort of like Junior High
School.
Post-Apocalyptic: POST means
after, or a hunk of wood stuck in the ground that you staple barbed wire to,
and APOCALYPTIC means what happens when stampeding beasts run through your
barbed wire and hunks of wood. Or it can mean the fire, earthquake, war,
storm, EMP, solar flare, giant meteor strike, outbreak, Black Friday shoppers .
. . etc.
Grid Collapse: The labyrinth of
wires boiling with electricity fall down, and all of Granny’s ice cream
sandwiches melt.
Survival: Eating goober pie and
will we? You will if you want to see the near-future.
Prepper: The idea that with some
planning and foresight your family won’t have to resort to cannibalism or
progressive politics.
Fiction: Stuff that’s made-up
with some basic tips and tricks that might be non-fiction. Check on that.
So, my speech: “Queenie, if the lights go out and this
elevator jams up between floors, I write about what happens next. Think “Hunger
Games” without the ugly makeup. Here’s my card.
Sincerely,
Linda (Smell Ya’ Later) Zern
