What is a worrywart to do about too many advisors?
I began preparing for the two-minute pitch of my memoir 60 days in advance, an average of one day for every three seconds.
As you can imagine, a worrywart author needs to worry about book talks. You may already know that I am a user of specialists. In addition, I solicit “my committee” of wise friends and colleagues for opinions.
The pitch in question is for the Jewish Book Council (JBC); a couple hundred authors pitch programs to a couple hundred event planners from JCC’s and synagogues around the country. If they like you, they may invite you to speak at their venue during the coming year.
Think of it as speed dating that matches authors with places to give book talks and signings.
Cast of too many advisors:
- Sue: My speech coach
- Joyce: The speech coach provided by the JBC
- David: A book doctor
- Calliopes: My writing group
So I wrote my pitch, which came out to be 6 minutes.
I went over it with Sue and we got it down to 3 minutes.
I went over it with Joyce and got it down to 2 minutes, assuming no one laughs.
I went back to Sue and revised.
Back to Joyce and revised.
Sent it to David, who said it was good.
Presented it to Calliopes, who wanted it to be funnier.
Made it funnier and sent it to Sue, who said the less funny one was better.
I’m now blending the two; I’ll see what Sue thinks and then I’ll show it to Joyce. Where does the circle end?
My ex used to say, Susan asks 10 people for their opinions and then does what she wants. It’s true, this is my learning style, to use educational jargon. With so many experts, the cycle will go on until I have to pitch or until the experts give me the ditch.
In case you want to help confuse matters further, please chime in! What do you like, what don’t you like, what’s missing that I should add?
THE PITCH (note that this will be a Jewish audience; hence the Yiddish, etc.)
Has our tribe has cornered the market on worry? I do MY part by kvetching online:
I blog about worry.
Then I worry about blogging.
A friend calls my worries white girl worries
And I worry about that
I worry about everything from my dog’s self-esteem to decapitation by ceiling fan.
My mishegas also extends to relationships: with husbands, lovers, and psychotherapists . . . who are like lovers, but don’t dump you.
I count myself among the worried well, but I have the equivalent of a phd in going to therapy. Therapy was my parents’ way of dealing with behavior.
Like everyone, I’ve had my share of tsuris . . . so I find solutions.
In ‘86, after three miscarriages, I convinced the Communist Chinese to let me adopt an infant.
In search of extreme bonding with my teenager, I signed up for a marathon. Read about it in Chicken Soup for the Soul’s 101 best mother-daughter stories.
After a dreadful divorce, I threw a Divorce Party for 40 singles in their 50s.
When my daughter was in Colombia and hadn’t tweeted for a day, I was sure she was locked in the trunk of a drug lord’s sedan. Oy, did I worry!
I can give you the tips I used: the ABC’s and XYZ’s to deal with your anxiety.
I’ve been a professional worrywart for years, I’ve written about anxiety for NBC, Huffington Post, The New York Times, The Washington Post Magazine, and Moment Magazine.
In my memoir, I pay an imaginary visit to my longed-for, 20-something self, which leads to an astonishing revelation.
Readers say my book inspires you to live with gusto, despite your worries.
So join my club of the worried well; we’ll have a blast!
In case you haven’t thought of it, my memoir is a great Mother’s Day gift. It will please the worried well and the less worried as well!
Readers of all ages will relate to this deeply personal story, told with comical sensibility by a quirky, startlingly honest mother, daughter, ex-wife, and dog lover, who—à la Nora Ephron—will feel like a dear friend. Confessions of a Worrywart: Husbands, Lovers, Mothers, and Others will stay with you long after you finish reading it. (adapted from Amazon description and culled from Amazon reviews)
The perfect book for worrywarts or anyone who enjoys a “neurotic, hilarious, poignant,” deeply personal story.