I don't write a lot here on Mysterious Matters about conventions and cons. The truth is, I love them but don't get to as many of them as I would like to. And their organizers are the unsung heroes of our genre, so three cheers to them, and thanks from all of us.
Some things I love about conventions:
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Talking to readers
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Attending, or participating in, panels
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Scouring the book room to scope out the competition and see who's doing interesting things
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Being impressed enough by a writer, or by word of mouth about a book, that I want to buy it and read it before I leave
The primary thing I don't like about conventions -- and this is a fairly recent phenomenon -- is the large and growing number of writers who look on the convention solely as a publicity device, a way to sell books. Don't get me wrong--book sales are a wonderful thing, and I'm all for them. But I do find a large number of writers who get into relentless "book hawking" mode, who talk about themselves and their work endlessly, and that does rather bore me after a while.
When I attend conventions in my role as editor, I often feel like the king of the prom, the captain of the football team, the romantic lead in a big-budget film, etc. Now, I am human enough to admit that this is not an unpleasant feeling at all. The reason is simple, of course: I'm in the position of being able to publish the books of aspiring writers, which makes me a popular guy.
But it's an awkward popularity, as I see people really struggling with how to treat me. Should I be approached as an everyday guy, one with whom a casual chat is possible? Or should I be treated as royalty--as he who holds the keys to the kingdom and dispenses favors to those who curry my pleasure? Should you appear confident or humble, or some hard-to-find combination thereof?
So, herewith--for those who care--some tips on how to treat Agatho at conventions. As always, I am only one man, so take these points cum grano salis.
1. If you are a non-writing reader or fan, I would love to chat with you. Please don't feel you have to be brilliant. I want to hear what you like, what you don't, what turns you on, what turns you off. It's more than fine to ask me about what I do for a living and how I do it. If you want a specific type of book or protagonist and can't find what you want, tell me about it--maybe there's a trend I should be aware of. If you've seen a cover that you loved, or one you hated, I want to hear about it. I want to know why you love that particular writer or series so much, or why you think that latest best-seller is so overrated.
2. If you are an aspiring writer, it is fine to pitch a work to me. That is my job: hearing pitches and reading manuscripts, and I love doing it. It would be nice if you would ask if I have a few minutes to talk at some point rather than collaring me as I'm on my way to a session or otherwise indisposed in the men's room. Just introduce yourself and be upfront about what your goals are. When we do meet, try to tell me about your book in two minutes or less. Ultimately I want to know what the "one-sentence sell" is and how it's going to be unique or interesting. When I'm honest with you, don't get upset or mad, and please don't cry.
3. Try not to be nervous--I am not there to judge you, though it is my job to critique your work if you put yourself in a position of having me do so. Also, it's best to engage in conversation/dialogue with me rather than argue. If I say, "I think there are too many books featuring newspaper reporters as sleuths," you can say, "Oh, but mine is really smart and witty"--which is a BAD response-- or you can say, "I know the newspaper industry so well, I wonder if there's a way to recast the setting or protagonist in a way that makes her more unique." At which point I might say, "Well, you're right--the genre has a lot of basic reporters-turned-sleuths, but I can't recall a book in which the Obituary Editor is the P.I."
4. Once we have met, it is fine to say hello to me again. This is really a tricky area for some people. Some folks are so afraid of lending the impression that they're trying to monopolize my time that we'll talk for five minutes on Monday, and then they'll avoid me for the next three days. Others decide to get on my good side, and I find myself seated next to them at one panel after another. Flirtation can be fun, but I do wear a wedding ring and too much flirting makes me think that you are willing to do just about anything to get published....
5. Don't be offended if I am cordial but not extravagant with friendliness. The truth is, I really cannot bond with you too closely...it makes things more difficult. I'm in the position of having to reject 97% of what comes my way, and it's going to be much harder for me to do my job with an appropriately critical eye if I really like you, or know your life story, and so forth. So we editors do keep a sort of invisible barrier, but it's for our own protection. Also, do remember too that, though we love our jobs and the genre, often we are at the convention in a professional capacity; and we have to draw a dividing line between our work and private lives.
6. At lunches and dinners, I sometimes find myself pontificating to a rapt group of people who stare at me while I talk. I really don't like to do this, but sometimes I find myself feeling as though I must share my "wisdom" with a group of people, which leads me to lecture...and of course everyone listens, because they want to learn, or want to be published, or want to be polite. And, of course, my opinions are only those of one man, so afterwards I often feel guilty for presenting my point of view as gospel truth (which I'm sure is what I do here on Mysterious Matters from time to time....) My point is: You can make me feel a lot more like a part of the group by treating me as a dinner companion rather than a Publisher. I love gossip, and current events, and even a good dirty joke every now and again. So let's try to discuss those topics, too, where I can do as much listening as I do talking.
7. I love taking part in conversations about deeper matters in the genre--the evolution of the protagonist, what is "fair" vs. "unfair" in points of view and plotting, the role of (a)(im)morality in the mystery, and so forth. Sometimes I find the conversations to get a bit shallow, and I'm always impressed when I meet people who have read deeply in the genre and have formulated opinions and ideas. I've often wanted to suggest this sort of thing to convention coordinators: That there be half-hour sessions with a leader who asks a question of all the people in the room, and then moderates the conversation so that all people (not just panelists at the front of the room) have a chance to be heard. Mystery readers have thought deeply about their genre, I think, and I love to hear what they say about it.
8. There are some things you should NOT do. I make no secret of the fact that I work for an independent press. It's not really nice to say to me, dismissively, "Oh, never heard of it." It's also not nice to get all excited at the thought of meeting an editor, and then watching your smile deflate as it dawns on you that I don't work for Random House. I'm not overly fond of sour grapes, either--I've had comments where people have come up to me and said, "Well, just wanted you to know that you rejected my book last year, but St. Martin's picked it up," then turned heel and walked away triumphantly, as if to say, "Well, a-hole, I just told you a thing or two." Try not to ask me questions about money--it really is a difficult topic and it's so hard to talk about in the abstract. Please don't ask for my email address, either. Many of us live in fear that the world at large will get our email addresses, and we'll be inundated with unwanted queries in our IN boxes, which are overflowing enough as it is. If I want to give you my email address, I'll do so (probably by giving you my card).
9. The single most impressive thing you can do after a pitch is to ask, "Do you have any advice for me?" It shows me that you're open to feedback, and you can even ask follow-up questions. (I'm pretty sure agents feel the same way. If any agents are reading this blog and would like to offer further advice on approaching them, please write a Comment or direct readers to your URL.)
10. In general, try to remember that I am a person too, and I don't mind being asked about my interests, what I like to read, what my hobbies are, and so forth.
Until next time,
Agatho