Pitching A Script. How Hard Can It Be?

Like many of my peers, and former colleagues, I’m in the midst of a career change. Again.  Actually, a career modification is better term. I spent my early years as a writer, then slid into publicity and then back into writing. Now I’m trying my talents as a scriptwriter.

There’s been a lot to learn. I’m discovering something that  any first grader will tell you; learning new stuff is hard!

I thought I knew the writing basics. As a journalist grammar is God and the AP Stylebook is the bible. Not so much with scriptwriting. It has its own very precise format and structure rules, and tosses the AP Stylebook out the window. Where I’ve often thought it belonged anyway.

With a little, okay a lot, of help from my teachers and fellow classmates (thank you everyone at Studio 4!) I banged out my first script. I know it’s not perfect; actually it’s far from it. Still, I’ve decided to let a classmate read it and give me feedback before I try to send it to anyone who might actually do something with it.

But before I could do that though, there was an event in Burbank called “The Great American Pitchfest and Screenwriting Conference.”  It’s a meeting where the organizers gather hundreds of managers and production companies – the folks who determine which scripts get made into movies—and give budding screenwriters a chance to present their scripts. Because I wasn’t sure my script was ready to be pitched, I didn’t sign up for the full conference

I opted instead for the “Pitching Boot Camp.”  This gives scriptwriters the chance to learn how to correctly pitch their movies to producers etc. Sad as it might be, the pitch is almost as important as good writing. 

I showed up for the workshop not really knowing what to expect.  I’ve been to literally dozens of music industry conferences and sat on panels. I even attended a huge fashion expo once. Never once before have I been nervous. This even more ludicrous because I’m a publicist—pitching ideas, people and products are my business. I can do it with my eyes closed and half asleep.  And believe me I have.

This was different. Mostly because it was me I was pitching.  I can concisely summarize everybody else’s project easily. But this was personal.  I was a wreck.

The set up was much like what I’ve heard speed-dating is—there are rows of chairs set up facing each other.  You have five minutes to pitch your script to the person sitting across from you. Then they take a pre-printed report card and grade your pitch.

 Not your idea, but your actual pitch: whether you had a decent logline, were clear, had a good idea of plot etc. Then you each move one chair to the right and do it again. I stunk at it. 

I had not done enough preparation for the darn thing. I should have been working on my pitch for days, if not weeks. In my defense, I signed up at the last minute and I knew I wasn’t ready to speak to real producers. But who knew I’d screw up just pitching to other writers?

I did get better, which of course is the point. But I pretty much had no choice—I couldn’t have gotten worse. Really. I was a mess.

I couldn’t remember my logline—which I’d practiced endlessly. I stumbled over the plot, which I know inside out, and even fumbled when I discussed the main character—who know intimately. By the end of the process—five pitches in—I was a little tighter, but I was still speaking too fast, sputtering and cluttering my ideas with gobbledy gook and long pauses.

The things that other people seemed to have trouble with such as keeping eye contact, knowing their presumed audience demographic and marketing, I had down. Yay! My background is finally useful for something.

I came home with some pertinent ideas, both for my script and me.  I’m going to make a few specific tweaks to my script. I’ve also set up a meeting with corporate media coach. He is actually a friend who trains CEOs and corporate honchos how to do interviews without looking like an ass.  

It’s something I’ve done for clients for years, but it’s now my turn.  I’m a little embarrassed, but I’m willing to take all the help I can get.  I need a lot.

It’s not all potholes in the path to this new so-called career. There are perks as well: I get to watch tons of movies and call it research.  Problem is, I’m so familiar with structure now that I spend the entire time deconstructing the film instead of just enjoying it. Seriously, I can tell you every point about 22 Jump Street and The Neighbors Now if only I could write like that...