place. Contact them all at once.
At the meeting, you need to hook the listener quickly. Of course, you hope that listener is an executive producer or head of the production company. But if you’re shunted off to an assistant, go ahead anyway. Make an ally so you’ll have a chance to repeat the pitch to the decision-maker another day.
What are they looking for? Energy. That’s amorphous, I know, but it covers the sense that the series has possibilities. Remember, a series pitch is not the same as telling a movie story where the plot beats need to be in place. This is the first step in a long development process, and if this company becomes involved, they’ll probably steer you toward revisions so the project will sell, or so it fits in a specific time slot, or competes with other series coming down the pike. They’ll be watching how flexible you are, wondering if they’d be comfortable working with you for years, kind of a blind date. If you’re defensive or reluctant to revise your precious property, they’ll wish you luck trying to do it all by yourself — elsewhere.
They’ll be checking whether the concept is viable; that is, whether they can physically produce it each week within a likely budget. But they won’t ask that question unless you satisfy two other qualifications: (1) The show is completely new and unique, and (2) the show is exactly like what has succeeded before. Yes, it’s a paradox. The solution is to be original within a franchise, even if that franchise is re-interpreted, as I discussed in the first chapter.
And, of course, you know what every TV series needs above all. Come on, you know the answer: Characters. The heart of your pitch is how fully you engage the buyer in the people you have created. But you already know that from your format, because you’re well prepared.
So let’s imagine you’ve pitched to a few executive producers and settled on one company that has everything: a studio deal, the juice to take you to a network, the ability to deliver the show, the willingness to keep you in the loop even though you’re a beginner; and, most of all, they “get” your idea. You’ve found a creative home.
Maybe.
JUNE
THE STUDIO
Most production companies can’t go to the networks by themselves. That’s because network series are “deficit financed.” Networks pay a fee to broadcast each program, around 75% of the cost of making it. For an hour-long drama that costs five million, the shortfall is around a million dollars per week. Every week. Companies don’t have that.
Studios do. Think of the studio as the bank. From the point of view of a “suit,” every time a studio endorses a series with one of the production companies on their lot they’re taking a calculated risk. Four years may go by before they see any return on their investment, if they ever do, and most shows are cancelled before that. But, oh, when a show finishes the 88th episode, they hit what they call “the mother lode,” “the jackpot,” “Valhalla.” Now they can sell the shows at a profit to cable channels, syndication and foreign markets. A single hit underwrites years of failures. Will yours be that hit?
That brings us back to you. Probably, you have no agreement in writing with the production company. They’re waiting to see if the studio will get behind this project. While you’re away, the producer is talking to the Vice President for Dramatic Series Development of the studio where he has a deal. If the producer loves your show, he’s pre-pitching it, maybe touting you as the next great thing.
Or not. He may be testing the waters to see if you’re approvable before he sticks in his own toe. That might involve sending your writing samples to the studio executive, or even, quietly, to a contact at one of the networks. He may also test the general “arena” of the show, without specifically pitching it: “Any interest in a drama about house plants; I have a great fern.” Prepare yourself, because if weak signals start coming back from the studio, he might drop the project; or he might keep the project but begin nudging you aside. You’ll know you’re being dumped if his conversation includes the term “participating,” if he floats names of possible writers who aren’t you, and if he talks up the title “associate producer.” Sometimes that indicates an actual job, but it might be honorary, a way to shift you off the writing staff. Remember, you do have the right to say no and take your project elsewhere.
Конец ознакомительного фрагмента.
Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес».
Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию на ЛитРес.
Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.
