Time to Pitch #735

I haven't really tried to pitch a book, or even the idea for a book, 735 times. It feels like that, but that's not true. That was a joke lie. I've probably only written a few dozen query letters, and done a few informal or in person pitches on three different projects. 

On those projects I don't think I ever had all my i's dotted or my t's crossed. I think I got impatient and either rushed the process or submitted work that I wasn't 100% sure of. Work that I had to convince myself was what I wanted to be pushing forward with. Sort of a leftover poor kid mentality of making due with what you got. I had those projects and ideas and I wanted to get myself out there, so that's what I'd use. 

It was just like that in college. I had worked to develop my technical skill, and I didn't really know what to paint, so I just started making these sarcastic narrative illustrative paintings, and it was a chore. I was ready to give up when I found the ideas that would lead to my most prolific creative period to date. During that time I developed both the language with which I wanted to speak and the message I wanted to deliver - mostly about healing the wounds of childhood and protecting that which must be protected: the value of discovery and wonder; the need to explore our world; the search for those bright sparks that light us up; the humor beneath the hurt - all that.

As I prepare to pitch my new project, a picture book called Scrapped (about a construction paper scrap that doesn't get to be part of the art project), I am more attuned to my creative voice than I have been for a while, which feels nice. So I'll write query letters and I'll make lists of agents and agencies who are accepting submissions and I'll get ready to send the dummy copy out there into the void, and wait. This time though, I'll wait with a little more confidence in the project, and a little more knowing that I got somewhere this time.

And maybe, the silence will break, and someone will say, "Hey. About that project...let's talk."