As promised, here is my novel pitched as a romance. But it’s being pitched from a place of bitter anger and frustration and is not a real pitch. This is not at all reflective of the tone of my book. If it was, my book might actually be much better than it is. I’m considering changing the whole thing into a parody wherein I hate my main characters because they’re all just stupid dip-shits and being stereotypical and ordinary. it would be so easy to pitch that. Have a look:
The Angry Parody Romance Pitch of Cricket and Grey:
Cricket Winters like all redheads in the entire world has a hot temper and like all heroines is independent to a fault. She doesn’t need anyone. So when her father (who she obviously worships because he’s also a fiery redheaded troublemaker) dies and she discovers that he’s been keeping secrets from her about her mother’s unsolved murder (her mother was also a redhead, but lacked an imprudently hot temper, which may actually explain how come she got killed, but not even the author can say for sure) Cricket becomes disillusioned and angry. Grey Bonneville, a totally hot Scottish guy who doesn’t look anything like Justin Bieber and has a steady nature (because that’s the only kind you can pair up with fiery redheads – cause every redhead needs someone to “tame” them because their tempers are evidence of an inherently feral nature) shows up to look after her at her own father’s request. This obviously enrages Cricket who can fight and shoot better than Grey can, so what the fuck makes him such a great protector?
Meanwhile, Cricket does a lot of angry gesticulating and pacing, as all important heroines do rather than lean on friends and family or, worst of all, allow themselves to lean on a MAN who might become an irritating beau, and realizes that her parents were both lying douche bags whose secrets have now put her in the unenviable position of being stalked by a person intent on annihilating her for what she’s discovered about her mother’s murder. She’s scared, even though she’ll never admit it, because she’s pretty stupid that way. Plus, her father hasn’t paid property taxes for over three years. Between the burial expenses and the property taxes, her property is at risk of being seized which threatens her livelihood. It just so happens that this is the end of the twenty first century and there’s no civilian access to oil so no one drives cars and Cricket’s town is devoid of money or work and she’s broke as shit because she’s compensated for her apothecary work more often than not with eggs, firewood, or braces of birds instead of cash. She’s so fucked!
Even though her best friend Julie and Julie’s really pious brother Tommy who, though it’s a mystery why, Cricket used to be in love with, offer to help her pay off her taxes which any normal person would have been thankful for seeing as it would solve some of her problems. But heroines in general, and redheaded ones in particular, are a very tetchy lot and like to make their lives as difficult as possible. Just to complicate things she finds herself witlessly attracted to Grey who she’s convinced is a lying sack of shit like her parents, and the fact that the FBI think he’s a smuggler lends weight to her tendency to think him a pretty annoying person. The fact that the FBI also think her father was a smuggler adds to her general sense that the entire world is just full of criminal douche bags.
She has lots of choices but decides to make some money working as an armed guard for the local crime boss Malakai Jeffers, escorting his underaged niece to be delivered to her prospective creepy old man fiancé in Portland. This is a dangerous job since it must be done with horses on a road full of ruffians that hasn’t had maintenance work done on it for at least thirty years. She’s livid when she discovers that Grey is working the same job! He really is a liar! Which vindicates her sense of righteous anger, dampened only slightly by Grey pointing out that she is now doing morally questionable work herself. Lots of things happen but most importantly, while shooting each other up, they find love and then come face to face with the bastard who snuffed her mother.
Pretty catchy, right?
Except that if I was really going to write a romance I would never make my heroine an independent feisty wild redhead. That cliche sailed generations ago. I would have to constantly vomit it’s so stupid. Though I did write a redhead with a temper who gets in fistfights.
So fuck you, Angelina.
But that was before I knew I was writing a romance.
I could change her into a mealy-mouthed mousy girl. That would be a refreshing new take.
That’s right. I want to abuse my characters because I’m upset with myself.
I’ve already decided that the only way to make this something non-romantic is to have Cricket kill him. I think I’ll make Tommy turn out to be an abusive bastard to Rebecca too. While I’m at it I may as well make Cricket’s dad turn out to be her mother’s real murderer.
My most brilliant realization through all this is that next time I can write the pitch first and then write the book, being very careful to stick to the pitch. Then when I’m done with the book I won’t have to go through this brain-crushing process. I’m going to go write a few pitches for books I haven’t written and just start over.