Pitch Man

Pitching is part of the career of a screenwriter.

Walking into a conference room with executives and selling them on a story. Painting a picture of a movie they'll want to invest in.

I'd pitched over the phone a number of times. It can be awkward over the phone because you can't see their faces. If they have you on a speaker, it's often difficult to hear their questions afterwards, especially if they ramble.

My L.A. trip was scheduled around me going to Lionsgate and pitching in the room. Thursday, 3pm, the day after I landed in L.A.

11am, went to a coffee house and met with a producer who I'd been working with for the better part of the year. Meeting people in person, they rarely look like what you imagine them to look like.

This guy was some classic Hollywood producer archetype. Lean, skin like tanned leather from the California sun. Super friendly and enthusiastic but, almost simultaneously, far away. He was present but he was distracted.

My manager and this producer would be in the conference room with me that afternoon. They would do a little setup and then I would pitch the broad strokes of the story for "about 10 minutes".

I was concerned I wouldn't have 10 minutes of material. I had written a very detailed treatment for the CADAVERS project but the main strokes of the storyline seemed fairly simple to me.

I ran through the pitch with the producer at the coffee house. He timed it. I clocked 22 minutes. It felt awkward. I was nervous. The one advantage of pitching over the phone is that I can have a huge cheat sheet and I can merely read something that I've plotted out. Pitching in person, it's about eye contact and NOT having to search for your notes all over the place.

It seems silly because you're trying to get hired as a WRITER and not a performer. Who cares about the song and dance if I'm a really great writer? But it's one of those stupid rituals that is woven into the fabric of Hollywood.

My second run-through at the coffee house clocked in at 12 minutes.

By the afternoon meeting, I had it down. The pitch went really smoothly. I felt calm. I could see when they GOT something, could see when they responded well to something, could see when they wanted me to move along to the next thing. The producer had told me that he'd jump in if he could see I needed help, but he ended up sitting back and letting me do my thing. I had answers for all their questions without having to consult my notes.

I went really well. My manager and the producer were well impressed. There were many factors involved in whether or not Lionsgate would ultimately invest in the project, but I had done everything I could to sell this one. And I hadn't embarrassed myself.

On the day before I left, we pitched to Paramount, as a backup. It was this executive that I'd worked with on Butcherhouse, so there was a little less anxiety. That went well, too.

I'd hoped that I'd get to have more meetings done while I was in L.A. Not just pitch meetings but general meetings. But the entire trip had been so hastily assembled, and scheduled around a holiday weekend, so Lionsgate and Paramount ended up being my two major meetings. After all that hooplah.

The day after I got back to NY, I pitched the project to Universal over the phone, using my old cheat sheet method. Wasn't quite the same.