Earlier this year, I attended the Great American PitchFest, where in addition to fine-tuning my pitching skills, made some great personal and professional contacts.
Among the latter was a production company who was very interested in my fantasy-adventure. They ultimately passed, not because the script wasn’t for them, but because they’d found another project.
At the end of that email, they included the offer for me to stay in touch. This was in June.
Jump ahead a few months to last week. Sorting through old emails, I’d found that one and figured now was as good a time as any to reconnect. I sent a brief note reminding them who I was, asking about that other project, and if they were still interested in my script.
They remembered me, the other one was progressing nicely, and they definitely were.
A few days later, I had a very pleasant hour-long phone call with one of the partners (the other had a last-minute scheduling problem). We discussed my script, some of their other projects and a few related and not-related topics.
The call ended with them wanting to continue the conversation after the holidays, making sure the other partner would be on hand.
Will anything come of this? I don’t know, but for now, it’s very encouraging. Am I glad I sent that follow-up email? Damn straight.
Sometimes it feels as if the door gets totally slammed shut in your face, but there’s a chance they might leave it open for you just a little bit – enough for you to take advantage of it somewhere down the line.
Who wouldn’t rather have someone say “It’s not for us, but stay in touch” instead of just “Thanks, but no thanks”?
If you do get that open invitation, make the most of that time by working on something else. Your initial project may have gotten their attention or piqued their interest, so this way you can redirect all that nervous energy into your writing and be ready if they ask “What else have you got?” in that second go-round.
Be patient. And courteous. And respectful. A lot of these folks are working just as hard on their own projects as you are on yours. The last thing they need is dealing with a pushy writer bombarding them with emails.
Follow Will Kane’s example (except without all the shooting and stuff)
The rewrite of my mystery-comedy has been put on hold because I’m teaching myself how to write a mystery, or at least how to be better at writing one. I bought a book and everything.
But I also don’t want to not be writing, so I’ve also decided to return to the low-budget comedy. It’s been a while since I’d read the outline, but it holds up more than I thought. Sure, it needs work and there are some spots where it says something like “SOMETHING FUNNY HAPPENS!,” but overall, I like it (hold onto that statement for just a bit).
Several months ago, I’d had the opportunity to have a brief chat with a writer who specializes in comedy. He asked what I was working on, so I pitched him the idea. He liked the concept, but was quick to poke holes in the story vis-a-vis the logline (which has since been rewritten), and didn’t care for how I had the story play out (as delivered in my thumbnail presentation).
“X should happen instead of Y! Having THIS CHARACTER connect with THAT CHARACTER is all wrong!” Plus some additional words to that effect.
Gosh.
I wasn’t expecting a standing ovation, nor did I expect it to be proclaimed a work of genius, but if this guy didn’t care for what I had, did that mean it was doomed before I even started?
Nope. Quite the contrary.
Several key things I had to remember:
-this was his opinion. One person, which is not a majority.
-his sense of humor and comedy stylings could be totally different from mine.
-it’s a work-in-progress in its very early stages. The end result will most likely be very different from the starting one.
-I think it’s a good story. Always have, always will. I have no intention of abandoning it or making any significant changes so as to gain his approval. I’m not writing this for him.
Every writer spends a lot of time coming up with story ideas, and then developing them as far as they’ll go. Stick to your guns if you believe in your story, but don’t totally block out advice and suggestions. Use what you think works best. Remember – this is YOUR story. If you think it works, then by all means, do what you can to make things happen.
It’s great when you get encouragement, but you’ll also encounter a lot of naysayers (“I don’t get it/like it, so it must be a bad idea.”). It’s all subjective. Everybody likes different things. If you believe wholeheartedly in your story, you have to do your absolute best to get the rest of us to be just as interested in reading it.
Just make sure to tell that story in the most entertaining, original and professional way possible. That’s all.
A couple of months ago I had the good fortune to attend the Great American PitchFest in beautiful downtown Burbank. Overall, it was a great experience and I’m very thankful I did it. I’d pitched the fantasy-adventure and the western to several productions companies and managers. Responses were generally favorable, including compliments on my pitches and a few requests.
I was feeling pretty positive about it as a whole, but as experience has taught me, opted to hold off on writing the job resignation letter and chilling the bottle of victory champagne. Just because the scripts were requested didn’t mean anything would happen.
And of course, I was right.
While I still haven’t heard from a handful of them (and honestly, don’t expect to), the rest have politely passed.
Slightly disappointing, but definitely not heartbreaking. This is the nature of the business. C’est la vie, baby.
In fact, I don’t bear any of them any ill will whatsoever. Their interests were piqued, they checked it out and decided it just wasn’t for them. Nothing else. I think it’s saying something that I got that far.
So although those temporary thoughts of “Whoo! Moving forward!” may have been temporarily scuttled, this just reinforces my commitment to making it happen. I’m of the opinion that both scripts are of high caliber (and the continuing polish/rewrite of the western will make it even more so), and am certainly not going to sit around feeling sorry for myself. I’d rather be productive and keep trying to get better.
Any writer who goes into this and thinks it’ll be easy is in for a very rude awakening. The amount of time and effort it requires just to get good at it, let alone good enough that you can compete with those who actually do it for a living, is overwhelming to begin with. There will be many, many crushing disappointments before you even reach what could be considered a significant victory, so you learn to roll with the punches. You have to. If you don’t handle disappointment well, you’re in the wrong business.
As I’ve said in many a conversation, there isn’t anything I’d rather be doing than writing. It may take longer than I’d like for good things to happen, but there’s no way I’m slowing down. This is just another pothole on a very long road.
So on that note, pedal to the metal and full speed ahead.
As all you phenomenal readers/followers out there may be aware, I was in Burbank last weekend for the Great American Pitch Fest.
Simply put, attending was one of the best screenwriting-oriented decisions I’ve ever made. I’ll get to the vaguely specific details about that in just a moment, but first, allow me to go over some of the supporting topics, starting with…
–Networking
I came armed with a new batch of business cards and the attitude of “Dammit, I’m gonna meet people!”
And I did. At the Friday night mixer. At the numerous classes/panels/workshops on Saturday. Even just stopping to introduce myself to folks sitting around a table in the hotel lobby.
Many are first-timers, nervous at attending one of these kinds of events. Certain that everybody else is a seasoned pro just brimming with confidence, whereas you’re feeling hesitant to even open your mouth and say something.
You know what? Almost everybody feels that way and is a little nervous on some level. Sure, others are a little more extroverted than some, but as I can personally attest, it’s a lot more fun when you get to know people. Besides, why pass up the opportunity to expand your personal network? That writer you just met from halfway across the country could turn out to be a vital asset somewhere down the line.
On a more personal note, I have to mention that the weekend was also a golden opportunity for me to actually meet several of my “Ask a Script Consultant!” interview subjects, including Pilar, Lee, JG, Signe, Tracee, and Steve. The interactions weren’t long, but each proved to be just as charming in person as they are in print.
–Pitching
The whole point of the weekend, and why I was here. First, the prep.
As I mentioned, there were panels aplenty where a lot of advice was given out (and sometimes contradicting something else you just heard). I had the benefit of having signed up for the pitch boot camp, where you and another writer would give your pitch, then exchange suggestions on how to potentially improve it.
I polished and honed the pitch for my western over the course of about six or seven run-throughs to the point where I had it down perfectly, then used that as a template for the fantasy-adventure.
As intimidating as doing this is, it all comes down to you being comfortable while having a pleasant conversation with somebody else about your story. The objective is to get them so interested that they really want to read your script. It’s not easy. Listening to other pitches, some writers would give vague story details, while others might go into too much detail.
As was pointed out, you’re also pitching yourself. You’re showing that you’re passionate about the work, hopefully have a pleasant personality, and are someone people would enjoy working with.
Now, a rundown of the results from the actual pitches:
(side note – As I would sit down with each person/pair, I’d ask how they were doing/how their day was going/etc. I’d rather start things off pleasantly rather than just launch straight into the pitch. Everybody was in good spirits throughout the day and seemed to be enjoying themselves. Many added that the quality of the material being pitched was very impressive.)
-13 total (although it felt like more)
-Two said “Thanks, but it’s not for us”
-The rest asked for a one-pager. More than a few asked “What else have you got?” (followed by handing over the other one-pager)
-Just about everybody said, “Wow! That was a great pitch!”
-One script request
-Two asked for follow-up emails
-“This sounds perfect for us!”
-“This is exactly what MAJOR PRODCO is looking for!”
-“We have to continue this conversation offline. Here’s our card. Call us.”
To say confidence levels were running high at the end of the day would be an understatement.
Epilogue
-All of my follow-ups have been taken care of. Since each one of them is also dealing with a lot of the pitches they heard, as well as working on their current projects, I expect it’ll be a while before I hear back from anybody. As always, fingers firmly crossed, hoping for the best while I bide my time and return to working on my assorted projects.
-Turns out I’m actually really good at pitching in person, or at least in a face-to-face scenario. Too nervous to do previous pitches via Skype, I’d always submitted a written one, which yielded zero results. This new confidence and willingness to be seen makes me feel that I’d have a much better chance of success in the future.
Conclusion
I’d started the weekend feeling very nervous and anxious about whether or not I’d do a good job. As time passed, I was able to relax and enjoy myself, which probably played a big part in how it all turned out. I had a great time, and left feeling closer than ever before to getting a professional writing career going.
If you’ve never been to a pitch weekend, I highly recommend it. You’ll meet lots of great people, make fantastic connections, learn how to get the most out of your pitch, and just have an awesome time.
-My only complaint was that since time was very limited, and I didn’t have a car, the enjoyment of pie did not take place. Maybe next time.
(Still accepting suggestions about where one might find quality pie in beautiful downtown Burbank.)
-Didn’t get much writing done this week due to our shaggy dog getting a mess of foxtails stuck in her toes, including one so far in it required a trip to the emergency pet clinic. She’s better now.
-More great notes received for the western. Thanks to all who’ve contributed. It’s especially nice when those who’ve read the previous drafts have high praise about how much of an improvement the latest one is.
Hopefully the next draft will continue that trend.
-The revamping of the comedy outline continues, including tightening the whole thing up. I must have cut at least 10 scenes/pages, so shooting for a total of somewhere in the mid-to-upper 90s. As it should be.
-Yet another “pass” on the fantasy-adventure pitch, so taking a break from those for the time being. The most frustrating part is the oddly-phrased way some of them say no. I’d rather they just said “Sounds intriguing, but it’s not for us.”
Too bad there’s no translator app for that.
-Reader participation time! In the comments below, please give the title, genre and logline of the second script you ever wrote.
I’ll go first.
WOK & ROLL. Comedy. An overly-ambitious Caucasian chef in a struggling family-run Chinese restaurant takes on a sleazy rival determined to shut it down.
Maximum Z 