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Why editors struggle with this vital publishing skill—and how to nail it.
Who better to pitch a book than its commissioning editor? They know it intimately and they care about it passionately. The answer is: almost anybody, precisely because that poor editor knows the work and cares about it. I will explain. But first, let me say I’m not just wantonly dunking on editors. Despite being a sales and marketing person, then an agent, I’ve also commissioned a handful of books and have experienced the angst of trying to win over a group of colleagues to a beloved book’s cause.
So, what’s the issue? It’s in two parts, starting with "the curse of knowledge". This is particularly acute if you’ve already acquired the book, have worked on it for months and need to present it to colleagues at a sales conference, showcase or launch event. You know everything about this book: its author, its authors pets, its many iterations and its entire context. You’re probably—as a book editor—inclined towards accuracy and high standards. You want to do the book justice and reflect its whole nature. Result: you plunge into detail and tell us more than we need to know. Too many characters and settings. Too many sections and features. The result of that result? We get it, thank you, but we’re not into it.
The second part of the "editor’s issue", if I may be so label-y, is more emotional: you’ve poured time and effort into this thing and you’re really invested. Even if it’s still only a potential acquisition, you’ve still staked some professional equity on it and are dreaming of a bestseller. Result: a passion-pitch with lots of excitement and not enough persuasion. "I’d love you all to read this—it’s the best debut I’ve read since x-y-z and I just can’t stop thinking about it" is all fine, but it’s hanging the entire project on people buying into your feeling about it, not their own. You need to give them reasons—logical and emotional—to engage.
Every time you pitch a book—to your acquisitions meeting, to the reps, to a big mixed crowd—think about what they care about and what their professional needs are
Which brings us to our solution: audience thinking. Every time you pitch a book—to your acquisitions meeting, to the reps, to a big mixed crowd—think about what they care about and what their professional needs are. You can’t know for certain but you can make an educated guess. Is the major obstacle to this acquisition the publicity director’s scepticism about getting the author on the telly? Address that first, before you get on to the plot or the voice or whatever. Is the main route to success a major supermarket? Let’s make sure we bring some market data in, and carefully selected comp titles, even at the expense of the vibes. You’re talking to a superfan influencer? Lean into the back story, the author gossip and what you genuinely love about the writing. You are not telling them what they want to hear; you are simply making your messages relevant to them.
It’s a challenge to do this with a mixed audience—say, a theatre full of booksellers, media, colleagues and authors. The key is to prioritise: who do I most want to persuade? And what exactly do I want them to do, think or feel at the end of my pitch? What we shouldn’t be aiming for (but which I’m rather narcissistically prone to) is to wish for people to think: "Wow, that person can pitch." Properly successful outcomes would include the subscription box buyer mentally including your SFF debut in their reckoning for next year’s programme, or a literary editor earmarking your fascinating sounding author for interview. Or your managing director feeling confident in your book being a lead title.
This audience-centric thinking—certainly the most important element of my Book Pitch Doctor course and book—isn’t always instinctive for publishing people, but it’s a mental habit you can learn, and it’s extremely effective when you do. Here are some things to try:
Dos
Don’ts