Why Conventions Are Worth the Ticket Price

Most writers spend months, sometimes years, pushing chapters into the void of an agency's submissions inbox. A convention shortens that distance dramatically. Agents and editors attend genre events because they are looking for books, and they are often far more approachable in a panel room or a hotel bar than their submission guidelines suggest. You are competing with a room of a few hundred people rather than a slush pile of thousands.

That said, a convention is not a shortcut to a contract. It is an introduction. Treat every conversation as the beginning of a professional relationship rather than a transaction, and you will come away with something more valuable than a signed deal: a name, a face and a reason for an agent to open your email first.

Build a Pitch That Fits in Ninety Seconds

Your pitch is not a synopsis and it is not a summary of your worldbuilding. It is a hook, followed by the practical details an industry professional needs. Aim for something you can deliver comfortably in under two minutes, then cut it down to thirty seconds for the moments when someone is half-turned towards the door.

• The logline: one sentence naming your protagonist, what they want, what stands in the way and what happens if they fail. "When a disgraced cartographer discovers the empire's maps are erasing whole cities, she must prove the truth before her own district disappears."
• Genre and word count: be precise. "A 96,000-word secondary-world fantasy" tells an agent more in six words than a paragraph of atmosphere.
• Two comparison titles: recent books, ideally from the last three to five years, that sit on the same shelf as yours. "For readers of X and Y" is shorthand agents understand instantly.
• The hook: the one element that makes yours different from the fifty other fantasies they have heard about this weekend.

Write both versions down. Read them aloud until the sentences stop tripping over each other.

Research Who Is Actually Attending

Read the programme before you pack your bag. Knowing who will be in the building turns a vague hope into a plan.

• Which agents represent your kind of book? Genre specialisms matter. An agent who adores epic fantasy may have no interest in hard science fiction, and vice versa.
• What have they sold recently? A quick look at their client list tells you whether your novel is a fit or a stretch.
• Which editors are on panels, and what are they acquiring? Editors can be just as useful a contact as an agent.
• Are there formal pitch slots, one-to-one sessions or open-mic pitch events, and how do you sign up? These often fill weeks in advance.

Note the difference between a formal pitch opportunity and a chance encounter. Both are useful, but only one expects you to launch into your logline unprompted.

Rehearse the Pitch — and the Questions Behind It

Rehearsal is where most writers undersell themselves. Say your pitch out loud, record it on your phone, and time it. You will hear the sentences that sound fine on paper but collapse when spoken. Then rehearse the follow-up questions, because they are coming.

• Is the manuscript finished?
• What is the exact word count?
• Who are your comparison titles?
• Is it a standalone, or the first in a series?
• What is the central conflict, in one sentence?
• What have you published before?

Prepare for two responses especially: "It is not for me" and "Send me a query letter." The first is not a rejection of your writing, only of the fit, and the second is a genuine invitation. Have a one-page summary and a business card ready, and keep a notebook of who asked for what.

Reading the Room in the Moment

Ask before you pitch. A simple "May I tell you about my novel?" respects the other person's time and almost always gets a yes. Keep it short, watch for the polite glance at a watch or a queue forming behind you, and stop when they signal. If they ask for pages, confirm what they would like to see and how they prefer to receive it.

Panels are a gentler route. Ask a thoughtful question, then introduce yourself afterwards with a single sentence rather than a full pitch. Do not hand over a printed manuscript unless it has been requested; most agents work digitally. And remember that the bar is a social space, not a pitch meeting, unless you have been invited to make it one.

Follow-Up That Gets Remembered for the Right Reasons

The work continues after the con floor empties. Note where you met each person, what you discussed and what they asked for while the details are fresh. When you send your query, open with a line making the connection clear — "As requested at the weekend, here is the first three chapters of my novel" — and then follow your normal submission format.

Be patient, be gracious and be brief. Publishing is a small, interconnected world, and the writer who is easy to deal with is the writer people remember. One good conversation, followed up properly, is worth more than a dozen hurried pitches delivered to strangers.