I'm a bit behind on this year's A.S.L. (write a new script in the August downtime). Been a bit busy, which is great for August, but it's been with stuff that I've been finishing off rather than starting something new, which is what the A.S.L. is all about.
So, what's been keeping me busy? Well, my second episode of EastEnders got locked off so I went to see it being filmed last week: nice. Won't be on until Friday the 13th November, not long after The Campbell Man's next episode, so stay tuned!
The final stages of post-production on Origin, my short film, are coming together. Next few weeks are crucial. I hope to have the film ready for festivals, and such, by next month. I did the grade (digital intermediate) recently, which was very exciting. Basically, you sit in a viewing theatre and colour the images to the ideal mood and look. Very happy with how it's all shaping up. Thank you Trevor Brown and Ascent 142!
I've also been script editing two very promising scripts so it'll be interesting to see how they develop from here. And someone is interested in one of my ideas but we're going to try to build the project from the basic pitch upwards in order to get the right backing (financial and practical) for the script.
So, there are a number of things that I must focus on to see me out of August and into September. I even turned down a chance of work the other day. I know, that is insane! It just would have taken me away from things I need to sort out here. However, I haven't abandoned my A.S.L. Far from it. I've got the idea (it's bonkers but I'm going for it) and a rough idea of the plot, so I'm just going to write and see where it takes me. Should be fun.
Oh, and this year's Red Planet Prize will be sometime in the autumn, probably. As soon as I get any information, I'll let you know.
And finally, have you seen the trailer for Splendid, Dan Turner's new sketch show (written by Jason, Piers etc)? Why, it's right here:
Monday, August 24, 2009
Friday, August 14, 2009
Pitching 2.0
Two of the best pitches I ever made were rejected. It might sound odd to be proud of a failed pitch but when you know you've done a creditable presentation of yourself and your intended story, there's not a whole lot you can do if the story isn't exactly what they're after (or if they have something similar in development, yada yada yada). That's the way it goes. You can be the best pitcher on the planet but if they don't dig your story, then it's not going to sell.
One of the pitches was a week-long pitching workshop with the producers of a well-known franchise. Myself and co-writer Sam Morrison were invited along with about ten other writers to develop our original ideas which we would then pitch to the producers plus invited guests from the UK film industry. This was a big deal, and Sam and I were naturally very excited. We had high hopes of doing well, thinking that our idea and story were terrific.
On the first day, everyone was nervous and awkward, naturally, but we all stumbled through our pitches. Then, the ideas were deconstructed, bashed around, rebuilt and deconstructed again so all we were left with was a broken story idea that was clearly never going to work in the first place, you moron. So, a lot of development and improvement had to be made.
Two days later, everyone did a revised pitch which bore little resemblance to the ideas we had come in with, apart from maybe the title and the overall premise. Morale was quite low at this point but it was clear that everyone's pitches had improved, and the style in which people were pitching was much better, too. Dammit, these development peeps knew what they were talking about, even though we all hated them at this point.
The week got emotional and intense (imagine something like The Apprentice meets Dragons' Den: The Dragons' Apprentice), and everyone was worn out. Confidence and energy were shattered. No-one was looking forward to The Big Pitch. And then, a strange thing happened. The pitches were really good. Everyone raised their game. Even though we were stressed and exhausted, a lot had been learned throughout the week, and the adrenalin clicked-in for that final Friday pitch.
Sam and I stood up in front of a room full of industry people, and gave it our best shot. We didn't slip or fumble. We were smooth and confident. It was a great pitch. They had a few questions, and that was it. Sam and I felt optimistic about a commission (they were going to pick up two or three pitches for development) but whatever the case, it made our co-writing partnership stronger because normally, we work by phone or email. We weren't used to spending so much time together, and we were staying in the same flat for the week, too.
On the Monday, we got the news. It was a 'no'. I was gutted but learned a valuable lesson in pitching: you can never be over-prepared. Know the story inside-out. Don't leave any cracks or fuzzy details in the story. Be flexible if they have ideas but be sure about the premise, conflict, stakes and resolution when you pitch.
The second experience, about a year later, involved a Hollywood production company who had optioned a UK children's book and they were looking over this direction for a writer. They liked my scripts and asked me if I'd like to pitch my take on the story. I read the book, wrote down what I liked, then revised the story to what I felt would make a good film. My previous experience had taught me to focus on the key elements of a pitch: premise, conflict, stakes and resolution. However, it had also taught me to over-prepare.
So, to get to that perfect five-ten minute pitch, I was going to figure out the full story first. And that meant bashing out all the essential story beats. The core structure. The defining act breaks. I ended up with a six page outline that I then reduced to a two-page pitch. It was a telephone pitch - to their LA and their NY offices! - but I was confident I knew the story, and what I wanted to do.
Luckily, with a telephone pitch, you can have your notes in front of you. But when it came to it, the adrenalin kicked in and I didn't need my notes. I knew the story. I was confident about my take. LA and NY execs listened, laughed and eventually complimented me on my pitch, and they'd get back to me. A few days later, I got a 'no' but the LA exec phoned separately to say how much he enjoyed working with me (helping with some prep beforehand) and that he thought I did a really good pitch: they just decided to go with a different take.
Now, I'm nowhere near the world's best pitcher. I still struggle with what to say and how to say it but when push comes to shove, I know you have to try to get across your story in the best way you can. This doesn't mean turning yourself into a stand-up comedian or coming across as Wow Mr Confident. Being nervous is OK. In fact, I would say it's a good thing. However, being so nervous that you lose your way and stumble through the pitch, that's when you're going to fail.
So, don't be intimidated by pitching. It's nerve-wracking and (mostly) not very enjoyable but that doesn't mean every pitch has to be a disaster. The key is to know your story and be confident that it's the pitch you want to make. Over-prepare, over-prepare, over-prepare. Once you know everything inside-out, it won't even matter when you get interrupted mid-flow or momentarily lose your train of thought. Without even realising it, you'll improvise to get back on track and finish the pitch, confident that you've done a good job. Then, they'll reject you. Hey, nothing's perfect.
Other pitching posts:
Pitch Perfect
Pitch Follow-Up
It's Breakfast Club meets Psycho
Professional (Pitching) Documents
One of the pitches was a week-long pitching workshop with the producers of a well-known franchise. Myself and co-writer Sam Morrison were invited along with about ten other writers to develop our original ideas which we would then pitch to the producers plus invited guests from the UK film industry. This was a big deal, and Sam and I were naturally very excited. We had high hopes of doing well, thinking that our idea and story were terrific.
On the first day, everyone was nervous and awkward, naturally, but we all stumbled through our pitches. Then, the ideas were deconstructed, bashed around, rebuilt and deconstructed again so all we were left with was a broken story idea that was clearly never going to work in the first place, you moron. So, a lot of development and improvement had to be made.
Two days later, everyone did a revised pitch which bore little resemblance to the ideas we had come in with, apart from maybe the title and the overall premise. Morale was quite low at this point but it was clear that everyone's pitches had improved, and the style in which people were pitching was much better, too. Dammit, these development peeps knew what they were talking about, even though we all hated them at this point.
The week got emotional and intense (imagine something like The Apprentice meets Dragons' Den: The Dragons' Apprentice), and everyone was worn out. Confidence and energy were shattered. No-one was looking forward to The Big Pitch. And then, a strange thing happened. The pitches were really good. Everyone raised their game. Even though we were stressed and exhausted, a lot had been learned throughout the week, and the adrenalin clicked-in for that final Friday pitch.
Sam and I stood up in front of a room full of industry people, and gave it our best shot. We didn't slip or fumble. We were smooth and confident. It was a great pitch. They had a few questions, and that was it. Sam and I felt optimistic about a commission (they were going to pick up two or three pitches for development) but whatever the case, it made our co-writing partnership stronger because normally, we work by phone or email. We weren't used to spending so much time together, and we were staying in the same flat for the week, too.
On the Monday, we got the news. It was a 'no'. I was gutted but learned a valuable lesson in pitching: you can never be over-prepared. Know the story inside-out. Don't leave any cracks or fuzzy details in the story. Be flexible if they have ideas but be sure about the premise, conflict, stakes and resolution when you pitch.
The second experience, about a year later, involved a Hollywood production company who had optioned a UK children's book and they were looking over this direction for a writer. They liked my scripts and asked me if I'd like to pitch my take on the story. I read the book, wrote down what I liked, then revised the story to what I felt would make a good film. My previous experience had taught me to focus on the key elements of a pitch: premise, conflict, stakes and resolution. However, it had also taught me to over-prepare.
So, to get to that perfect five-ten minute pitch, I was going to figure out the full story first. And that meant bashing out all the essential story beats. The core structure. The defining act breaks. I ended up with a six page outline that I then reduced to a two-page pitch. It was a telephone pitch - to their LA and their NY offices! - but I was confident I knew the story, and what I wanted to do.
Luckily, with a telephone pitch, you can have your notes in front of you. But when it came to it, the adrenalin kicked in and I didn't need my notes. I knew the story. I was confident about my take. LA and NY execs listened, laughed and eventually complimented me on my pitch, and they'd get back to me. A few days later, I got a 'no' but the LA exec phoned separately to say how much he enjoyed working with me (helping with some prep beforehand) and that he thought I did a really good pitch: they just decided to go with a different take.
Now, I'm nowhere near the world's best pitcher. I still struggle with what to say and how to say it but when push comes to shove, I know you have to try to get across your story in the best way you can. This doesn't mean turning yourself into a stand-up comedian or coming across as Wow Mr Confident. Being nervous is OK. In fact, I would say it's a good thing. However, being so nervous that you lose your way and stumble through the pitch, that's when you're going to fail.
So, don't be intimidated by pitching. It's nerve-wracking and (mostly) not very enjoyable but that doesn't mean every pitch has to be a disaster. The key is to know your story and be confident that it's the pitch you want to make. Over-prepare, over-prepare, over-prepare. Once you know everything inside-out, it won't even matter when you get interrupted mid-flow or momentarily lose your train of thought. Without even realising it, you'll improvise to get back on track and finish the pitch, confident that you've done a good job. Then, they'll reject you. Hey, nothing's perfect.
Other pitching posts:
Pitch Perfect
Pitch Follow-Up
It's Breakfast Club meets Psycho
Professional (Pitching) Documents
Wednesday, August 12, 2009
Blogoversary!
The blog is four years old today. Wow. Four years. 528 posts. Through the blog, I managed to get work and increase my profile. Two years in and I had the crazy idea for a screenwriting initiative for new writers which Tony Jordan turned into the Red Planet Prize (very proud to be associated with that). This year, I got some vital funding from you, dear reader, for a short film I wrote and directed this year. Plus, I've met loads of cool new friends and screenwriters. Twitter may be enjoyable pop but blogging's the real rock n' roll.
Instead of me navel-gazing over the last four years, I thought I'd shout out to the folks who inspired me to blog in the first place (or to keep blogging once I got going). The people who I found on the 'net when I was trawling for information, inspiration and procrastination. These guys continue to fly the flag, and still deliver fantastic insights into the screenwriting world. Without them, I would most definitely not be here. You know who they are, I'm sure, but if they're new to you, then click on through to see what they're all about. So, in no particular order:
Alex Epstein
Complications Ensue: The Crafty TV and Screenwriting Blog
Denis McGrath
Dead Things on Sticks
Ted Elliot & Terry Rossio
Wordplayer
Scott Mullen
Alligators In A Helicopter
James Henry
James and the Blue Cat
James Moran
The Pen Is Mightier Than The Spork
After reading their sites, and others besides, I thought I could contribute by offering what I learned from script reading, and sharing my experiences as a budding writer. I'm still finding my way but the blog has had a huge significance in how the last four years have fallen. It's been quite a spin.
Nowadays, a wide range of top quality blogs exist that cover the UK screenwriting scene in great detail. Jason, Piers, Lucy, Michelle, Phillip, Julian (the best new blog on the scene; an agent's inside view, check it out!), and many more.
It really has developed into a warm community. Sharing information, encouraging messages, rallying calls, inspiring insights, funny anecdotes, embarrassing/hilarious rants. There's been a little bit of a dip and decline in some blogs lately, and that's understandable, but I don't think it will go away. It's easy to find your mojo when you have something to say or have something to share. And that's what good blogging is about. So, let's keep rockin'.
Instead of me navel-gazing over the last four years, I thought I'd shout out to the folks who inspired me to blog in the first place (or to keep blogging once I got going). The people who I found on the 'net when I was trawling for information, inspiration and procrastination. These guys continue to fly the flag, and still deliver fantastic insights into the screenwriting world. Without them, I would most definitely not be here. You know who they are, I'm sure, but if they're new to you, then click on through to see what they're all about. So, in no particular order:
Alex Epstein
Complications Ensue: The Crafty TV and Screenwriting Blog
Denis McGrath
Dead Things on Sticks
Ted Elliot & Terry Rossio
Wordplayer
Scott Mullen
Alligators In A Helicopter
James Henry
James and the Blue Cat
James Moran
The Pen Is Mightier Than The Spork
After reading their sites, and others besides, I thought I could contribute by offering what I learned from script reading, and sharing my experiences as a budding writer. I'm still finding my way but the blog has had a huge significance in how the last four years have fallen. It's been quite a spin.
Nowadays, a wide range of top quality blogs exist that cover the UK screenwriting scene in great detail. Jason, Piers, Lucy, Michelle, Phillip, Julian (the best new blog on the scene; an agent's inside view, check it out!), and many more.
It really has developed into a warm community. Sharing information, encouraging messages, rallying calls, inspiring insights, funny anecdotes, embarrassing/hilarious rants. There's been a little bit of a dip and decline in some blogs lately, and that's understandable, but I don't think it will go away. It's easy to find your mojo when you have something to say or have something to share. And that's what good blogging is about. So, let's keep rockin'.
Thursday, August 06, 2009
ROY
Yesterday, a new series called ROY started on CBBC. It's about an Irish boy who tries to be normal - the only trouble is that he's a cartoon! It's like 'Roger Rabbit' meets 'The Commitments' (without the swearing!). If you missed episode one, then mosey on over to CBBC's iPlayer and catch up. Or you can tune in for the repeat on CBBC, Saturday morning at 9.30am (Sky 613, Freeview 70, Freesat 600, Virgin Media 701, Tiscali 306).
Regular readers will be aware that I wrote an episode for the series (original post here). It was going to be episode three (called 'On The Run') but I'm told the order has changed a little, so it may have been rejigged. Fear not, I'll keep you posted on when it will be on. I can't wait to see it. I had such a good time working with the other writers and production team. Special mention goes to script editor Alan Keane for making the whole process such a joy from start to finish. A class act. Here's a full list of all the writers:
Paul Smith
Declan de Barra
Neil Layden
Pat Connolly
Mark Hodkinson
Richard Conroy
Derek O'Connor
Alan Keane & Paul McLoone
And yours truly
Hope the show goes down well. Fingers crossed for a second series!
Tuesday, August 04, 2009
Gimmick Submissions
Here's how the system works:
- You send a script to exec/producer/prod co.
- It's received and logged.
- A reader gives it a once-over.
- The reader writes a script report.
- Exec/producer reads the report.
- A rejection is sent in the post, with thanks.
This is the routine. This is the norm. It gets a bit samey for all involved. Exec/producers start to yearn for some sparkle in their lives, and hold out for the one submission that will lift their day and make their life worthwhile. To help facilitate this, unrepped writers often get the idea to put a bit of colour in their submissions. Y'know, add various gimmicks or incongruous items to their script to make it stand out from the crowd.
They might send a clown to deliver their hot new comedy spec. Hey, it will put the exec in a good mood and get the script to the top of the pile, right?
Or they could send a bar of chocolate to sweeten the deal, and get the script read and approved.
Or they might attach a teabag and biscuit to the script as that will be just the thing the reader/exec will need to settle down to enjoy the 140 page epic.
Gimmick submissions, in my experience (the above are real examples), rarely work (here's a tip, chocolate *melts*). At worst, they're ingratiating and amateur. At best, they're amusing and endearing but they don't give the submission any guarantee of favourable consideration.
In Blake Snyder’s “Save The Cat”, he admits to once packaging a script about ‘nuclear’ superheroes into a faux-radioactive unit. This particular gimmick worked for him, and helped to get the script sold (but I'm sure the actual quality of the script had something to do with it). However, his particular gimmick was integral to the marketing appeal of the overall project, so it had some validity (although it still would have been laughed out of certain offices).
Opinion may well be divided on gimmick submissions. Certain execs and readers might like your cheeky approach. You might have caught them at the right time, just when they needed a giggle or some kind of lift to their day. But it's a lottery. You simply can't gauge their mood or predict what will happen.
People are busy. The system works for a reason. The only gimmick you need is a good script. The best trimmings around a good script are a recommendation or referral from an established writer, producer, director or actor, rather than tying your script with a slice of carrot cake.
** UPDATE **
In a twist of sad news, Blake Snyder died suddenly today from cardiac arrest. More info here.
- You send a script to exec/producer/prod co.
- It's received and logged.
- A reader gives it a once-over.
- The reader writes a script report.
- Exec/producer reads the report.
- A rejection is sent in the post, with thanks.
This is the routine. This is the norm. It gets a bit samey for all involved. Exec/producers start to yearn for some sparkle in their lives, and hold out for the one submission that will lift their day and make their life worthwhile. To help facilitate this, unrepped writers often get the idea to put a bit of colour in their submissions. Y'know, add various gimmicks or incongruous items to their script to make it stand out from the crowd.
They might send a clown to deliver their hot new comedy spec. Hey, it will put the exec in a good mood and get the script to the top of the pile, right?
Or they could send a bar of chocolate to sweeten the deal, and get the script read and approved.
Or they might attach a teabag and biscuit to the script as that will be just the thing the reader/exec will need to settle down to enjoy the 140 page epic.
Gimmick submissions, in my experience (the above are real examples), rarely work (here's a tip, chocolate *melts*). At worst, they're ingratiating and amateur. At best, they're amusing and endearing but they don't give the submission any guarantee of favourable consideration.
In Blake Snyder’s “Save The Cat”, he admits to once packaging a script about ‘nuclear’ superheroes into a faux-radioactive unit. This particular gimmick worked for him, and helped to get the script sold (but I'm sure the actual quality of the script had something to do with it). However, his particular gimmick was integral to the marketing appeal of the overall project, so it had some validity (although it still would have been laughed out of certain offices).
Opinion may well be divided on gimmick submissions. Certain execs and readers might like your cheeky approach. You might have caught them at the right time, just when they needed a giggle or some kind of lift to their day. But it's a lottery. You simply can't gauge their mood or predict what will happen.
People are busy. The system works for a reason. The only gimmick you need is a good script. The best trimmings around a good script are a recommendation or referral from an established writer, producer, director or actor, rather than tying your script with a slice of carrot cake.
** UPDATE **
In a twist of sad news, Blake Snyder died suddenly today from cardiac arrest. More info here.
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