I was so exhausted last night, and so sick (I'm still very sick), that I didn't have the energy to start this post. It shouldn't be too long, though. I ended up pitching to eighteen peeps yesterday, which is nowhere near the amount I had earmarked in the booklet they provided us. Here's how I prepped.
I pored over the booklet backwards and forwards and devised a system for noting whom I wanted to pitch to, based on Lorene Lacey's advice Friday night. If it was a literary agent, I'd mark the page with a hot pink sticky note. Management firms got yellow, and production companies, which constituted the majority, got purple. I didn't stop there. Since I have more than one script, I'd then write on the sticky note the title of the script I wanted to pitch to that particular person. Instead of writing out the full title, I'd just jot down the initials.
Because I was walking over from Yahoo!, I entered the convention center from the opposite side of where the vast majority of the attendees were coming from, the side facing the Marriott proper. As pitching was set to start at 10 a.m., I got there around ten of and found myself one of a smattering of people in the otherwise empty, cavernous sky-lighted joint while upwards of five hundred peeps were packed out in the courtyard on the other side of the building. All along the floor outside the ballroom was a single clothes hanger-type line with numbers hanging on little poster cards, from one to a hundred and ten or so. Next to the number on each card would be the name of the company as well as the word OPEN or CLOSED, indicating whether or not anyone was at that table to pitch to. Hey, even the Hollywood gatekeepers have to go take a whiz now and again. Although I should say that this one literary agency I was planning to pitch to was there for like an hour in the morning....and then they bolted. That kinda sucked 'cause I missed them, and there weren't many lit agencies to begin with.
The schedule was as follows: Pitch your tail off from 10 a.m. to 12:30 p.m. Get out of there and reclaim some of your sanity--oh yeah, and grab a bite to eat--until 1:30 p.m. Then come back and pitch some more until they kick you out at 5 p.m. I had a ton of companies earmarked in the booklet. I figured, since we had so much time and only five minutes per company, I'd get to pitch to a good twenty or thirty. Nah, I got to pitch to eighteen which, as I look back, seems like enough. I'm sure those poor people hearing pitches all day were losing their minds come 5 p.m. I sure as shit know I was.
Here are my eighteen lucky pitchees, in no particular order.
Jeff Ross Entertainment (Management) - Jeff himself was there. 'Turns out we had a bit in common. He's from the northeast (New Yawk versus my Joisey). He loves football and roots for the Giants. While we were making idle chit chat, he noticed the little Washington Redskins pin on my Yahoo! lanyard. And get this: Jeff's bro-in-law apparently built the new Washington Nationals baseball stadium. We went a bit past the five minutes, which was allowed per the pitchee's discretion. I ended up giving Jeff a one-page synopsis as well as my card. He also asked me to e-mail him the script.
Seth Lockhart Presents (Management and Production Company) - Seth is a young African American who's just started this company. He rarely made eye contact with me as he kept asking me to pitch him script after script after script. Thank God I've written five 'cause I just about pitched all of them. In the end he didn't take any contact info but he did ask for the first thirty pages of one of my comedies.
WideAwake Inc. (Production Company) - Like Seth, this is another new company, only this one's looking specifically for comedies grounded in reality with regular Joes as their protagonist. The booklet cites The Breakup as an example of what they're looking for. Well, one of my comedies is grounded in reality, and the main character's name is Joe. Unfortunately, it's still not quite what Dave, the young'n representing WideAwake, was looking for. You see, my Joe is President of the United States. Dave wants Joes who are more Joe Sixpack types. Again, think Vince Vaughn from The Breakup.
Lancaster Gate (Production Company) - Two peeps were at this table. First you had Richard, this crotchety old goat who was a spitting image of the Grinch (the cartoon Grinch, not the Jim Carrey Grinch). Next to Joe was the redundant Trevor, an assistant who was, I dunno, one-tenth Richard's age. So anyway, I pitched one of my comedies, and I thought I was on a roll. I mean, I'd been pitching it the same way for a good bit at this point, and had gotten good feedback. But these two? Not even fazed. To quote the Grinch guy: "It doesn't do anything for me. Good luck!"
True Talent Management (Guess) - You had another two cats here, both in their twenties. On the right was a gap-toothed goofball called Tom, and on the left was a sweet gal named Elizabeth. I pitched them the President script, but Tom said he had a hard time getting Barack Obama's face out of his head, which made him not like my script. So I pitched them another comedy, as well as one of my thrillers. This was really impressing Elizabeth, the range of my stories. Tom, though, thought I was too all over the place. They didn't take any info from me, but Liz said that I should definitely follow up with them.
Content House (Literary Agency) - Here we had another young guy named Tom. I pitched him the comedy, he loved it, took my card and one-pager, and that was that. Nice to meet ya, Tom.
The Collective (Management) - The first thing I asked the boyish Hunter was if he was a Star Trek fan and, if so, did that explain his company's name. He laughed and said nah, it wasn't his company and no, his bosses weren't Trekkies. 'Turns out Hunter's an easy man to make laugh. I pitched him one of my comedies and he laughed his ass off. He took my one-pager and said he'd get back to me.
ElevenElevenFilms (Production Company) - Representing ElevenEleven was a young skinny brunette named Jenny. In the booklet it said ElevenEleven was specifically looking for dark stuff, thrillers and whatnot. In addition to comedies, I've got a couple of scripts I thought Jenny might like. So I pitched one. She said it was too supernatural. I pitched another. She requested it!
Ensemble Entertainment (Management) - Ensemble was the first company I hit up. In the booklet I wrote "Lukewarm" because I couldn't tell by their profile if they'd be a good fit. At worst I could use them to practice my pitch. The pitchee here was a young Asian-American lad with thick glasses and thicker sinuses named Andrew. I pitched him one of my comedies and, sure enough, his response was as lukewarm as my instincts were about his employer. He said the good comedies today are like Judd Apatow movies. So to have the best chance with him, I'd need to have a Judd Apatow ripoff. Inwardly I said I wouldn't rip off anyone to save my life. It's originality or bust! But Andrew kindly took my one-pager anyway, poor chap.
ES Entertainment (Production Company) - Okay! Monika here looked to be in her forties or so and was actually one of the people in charge. So refreshing. She wasn't too keen on my Presidential comedy, but she liked the other comedy, which is more of a weirdo supernatural-type deal. Indeed, she liked it so much that she said I should go pitch to her pal Rona at table number such-and-such. Rona's from another company I'll get to in a bit, but she and Monika are business partners. They co-produce stuff and have written books together.
Goddess Productions (Guess) - Once again I got the gal in charge. About the same age as Monika, what I remember most about Christine is that she had jet-black hair and wasn't at the table when I got there because she'd stepped away to that cash bar they had set up at the front of the room. I don't think she actually got a drink, though, poor thing. It was in the afternoon at this point so I could empathize with her temptation. Anyway, she loved my pitch, God bless her. She said I was one of the best pitchers she'd heard all day and that I should definitely follow up with her in a couple weeks.
Industry Entertainment (Management) - Namarata was a petit lil Indian thing who, according to the brochure, is the executive assistant to Rosalie Swedlin. When I came up to the table, Namarata was in the middle of reading a script. If you read about my first class on Saturday (the day 2 post), you'll know that assistants spend the vast majority of their time reading and critiquing scripts. I noticed that she didn't have any stuff collected from past pitchers. Had she turned everyone down? She loved my President pitch and told me to send her ten pages of any script I wanted. It didn't have to be the first ten or last ten, just any ten pages of any script that I felt demonstrated my writing at its best. And she wanted it as hard copy via snail mail. No e-mail. And with that, literally as I said thanks and got up to leave, she went right back to reading that damned script, poor creature.
Ken Sherman & Associates (Literary Agency) - This agency actually had three or so people at three different tables. I picked young Joe here 'cause his profile said he was specifically looking for comedies of all types and that he was really psyched to be at this event. What a buncha bunk, man! Dude was well dressed and everything, with this cream sweater and shirt collar folded out, but his eyes looked leaden. Dude looked like this was the last place he wanted to be. What's worse, he yawned when I was barely a sentence into my pitch. Did he like it? Impossible to say. He took my one-pager, but I'm not holding my breath.
Max Freedman Management (Guess) - Now we're back to the top dawgs representing themselves. Max looked to be in his fifties or so, with a balding pate and reading glasses perched on his nose, very much the professor type. I think he was even wearing a tweed jacket. Anyway, like Jeff Ross, my pitch spilled over the five minutes because Max was asking me about non-writing stuff, like where I was from and what I did for a living. Eventually I pitched him the Presidential comedy, which made him chuckle. That was cool. He didn't seem an easy person to make smile. Anyway, like Christine from Goddess Productions, he didn't take anything from me, but he did at least write my name down and told me to get back to him so we could meet somewhere less formal and have a "longer discussion." You got it, Maxie!
Metamorphic Films (Production Company) - As with Ensemble Entertainment, I jotted down "Lukewarm" next to this one 'cause I couldn't quite gauge their suitability. Also like Ensemble, this was one of the first companies I pitched to, figuring at worst I could use them to practice the ol' pitch. Unlike Ensemble, this table didn't have some assistant, but the big cheese in charge. In this case it was a Latina named Teresa Zales, the CEO of the joint. She loved my pitch and said it reminded her of SNL, what with all the wacky characters and what have you. So I gave her a one-pager and left her chuckling.
Moore Films (Production Company) - Nothing too remarkable here. Chap's name was Adam, another boyish assistant type. Only he wasn't. This is a brand new company, and he's one of the execs who runs it. He liked my pitch, took a one-pager, and that was that.
Rona Edwards Productions (Guess) - Remember Monika from ES Entertainment? Rona's the gal she referred me to. Only trouble was, Rona was a bit of a tougher nut. I told her Monika referred me, threw her the same pitch, but she seemed skeptical about it. She said she understood why Monika thought she might like it, but she had "a few questions" that our five minutes together didn't give her time to ask. So I gave her my one-pager and card. If she's got questions, she knows how to get in touch.
Superior Talent Agency (Literary Agency) - Ileane was an assistant who didn't betray a single iota of emotion during my Presidential comedy pitch. And then I threw her the other comedy I had, the one Monika liked. That didn't make her emote, but at least she asked for my one-pager for it. "We'll be in touch," she said as I left, with nary an ounce of sincerity in her voice.
