Everywhere I go for the last few weeks I see turkey vultures. Turkey vultures here, turkey vultures there. I look out my window, turkey vulture. Driving, stopped at a light, turkey vulture. Go out to the back yard with my dogs, two or three turkey vultures circling overhead. They’re everywhere. Since I am a rational, level headed human being, naturally my first reaction when I noticed this phenomenon was that it must be an omen from the spirit world bringing tidings of my impending death.
I’ve always seen turkey vultures I guess, they aren’t exactly uncommon. But this has been a daily occurrence for a few weeks now, me and my turkey vultures, sometimes one, sometimes two, sometimes three times a day. Has the turkey vulture population recently exploded? Have there always been this many turkey vultures and I’m just noticing them right now for some reason? Possibly. After about a month of this, I turned from my computer to stare blankly out my office window (to think, of course) and saw two turkey vultures, circling high in the sky over my neighbourhood and asked what I guess all writers ask eventually: all right, pal, what’s your story?
“In the earliest of times, the sun lived very close to the earth – so close that life was becoming unbearable. The animal world got together and decided to do something about it. They wanted to move the sun further away. The fox was the first to volunteer, and he grabbed the sun in his mouth and began to run to the heavens. After a while the sun became too hot, burning the fox’s mouth and he stopped. To this day the inside of the fox’s mouth is black.
Then the opossum volunteered. He wrapped his tail around the sun and began running toward the heavens. Before long, the sun became too hot, burning his tail and he had to stop. To this day the opossum has no hair upon his tail.
It was then that vulture stepped forward. Vulture was the most beautiful and powerful of birds. Upon its head was a beautiful mantle of rich feathering that all other birds envied. Knowing that the earth would burn up unless someone moved the sun, the vulture placed its head against it and began to fly to the heavens. With powerful strokes of its wings, it pushed and pushed the sun further and further up into the heavens. Though it could feel its crown feathers burning, vulture continued until the sun was set a safe distance in the sky away from earth. Unfortunately, vulture lost its magnificent head of feathers for eternity.”*
Stories are everywhere. Thanks for the reminder, turkey vulture!
*Andrews, Ted. Animal Speak (Woodbury MN: Llewellyn Publications, 1993), pp. 201-202.
As I mentioned in my last, long ago post, I will be attending the Writer’s Digest Annual Conference this August in New York. I’ve never been to a writing conference before and I’m pretty excited. It’s still a few months away, but there is quite a bit of preparation involved and I’m making some progress on that. Aside from the many sessional offerings, I’m also doing the pitch slam, which is both an exciting and deeply terrifying notion. Since I have no experience in this regard, I read some blogs by people who have attended writing conferences with pitch slams to get some idea of what to expect. Some were very encouraging and some read like the stuff of nightmares. One thing they did agree on is that I’ll need a pitch and I’ll need to know what agents I want to pitch to.
The Pitch. Short, sweet and well rehearsed seems to be the consensus there. I don’t have a pitch, per se, but I have a few similar notions from various attempts at query letters and such that I can get started with. I’ve been reading a lot of articles about creating a pitch and made a lot of notes, so that’s something I’ll be working on for the next little while. Last year my closest writing pal passed away unexpectedly, so I guess my dogs will be judging my delivery. I figure the German shepherd will be the most critical.
Know what agents you want to pitch to. Here’s where a lot of the blogs I read took on a frightening tone – long lines, lots of agents not at every pitch session, mean agents, tired agents, horrible ghoul type agents sent from hell to destroy your soul, basically the pitch slam sounds like a land of chaos, where nothing makes sense and everyone is confused. Maybe this is accurate, maybe not, I won’t know until I get there. I figure the best I can do is be prepared and just think of it as an adventure. My own brain and its horrible, horrible thoughts are what screw me around more than anything else, so I’ll just be as prepared as I can and see what happens.
Writer’s Digest has a list of the agents attending, so I made a list of agents that represent my genre. Now I’ll research them all further and rank them in order of who I’d like to pitch to most to least. Once I’m at the pitch slam I can use that based on what agents are there and how long their lines are. Seems like a reasonable approach to me, I guess I’ll find out!