Owning It (Or, Coming Out of the Career Closet)

Two years and three weeks ago, I quit my stable, average job. I quit to pursue writing and film-making, two things I cared about. I quit after forcing myself to stay longer than I wanted to, because telling people you’re a “writer/filmmaker” before you’ve made the kind of films they’ll see at a multiplex can feel a little, well... embarrassing.

But I did finally quit and have been, over the past two years, gradually becoming the writer/filmmaker I set out to be. So why was it that up until recently, my Facebook and LinkedIn pages didn’t say anything about it? At least, not in my ‘employment’ info section. (Under hobbies and projects, fine.)

Well, it goes back to that embarrassment mentioned above - and owning one’s choices. 

It’s not hard to get the sense that when people ask you what you do and you answer “writer/filmmaker,” they’re secretly thinking you’re an unemployed flake. Of course, that might just be insecurity talking, but a lot of people, when I’m at that point in a conversation, will start to say things like “Do you have a day job?”, “Yeah, but what do you do for money?”, or “Oh, I wish I made more time for writing, but it’s hard with my job.”

For the record, I have a part-time job, a small business, and several standing freelance gigs with weekly deadlines - which can all feel like having more than one full time job, especially when balanced with my number one priority: my writing/filmmaking career.

Having numerous smaller jobs in place to help support a creative career offers an easy out when someone asks the “what do you do?” question and I don’t want to get into what sometimes feels like an apology/explanation for my choice not to have a standard 9 to 5... instead, I can say “I work at a publishing company,” or “I own a small business,” because these things are also true, and generally better accepted. But, saying them really doesn’t tell people who I am - because I’m a writer/filmmaker, and, at any time of day, writing and filmmaking are on my mind.

So a few months ago I looked at my LinkedIn page... because employment ONLY listed my small business and said nothing about writing/filmmaking, which felt very out-of-whack.

I realized I needed to put it out there, to everyone, without feeling shy about it. I imagined former employers and “frenemies” reading my page and being snide about it - but then I thought, “Hey - I can’t own their career choices, but I can own mine - and I’m happy about the choices I’ve made.” There’s no reason to feel shy about what I’m doing in my life. I’m doing it because it gives me a feeling of pride and accomplishment.

And so, I changed my career info.

And I was rewarded. I was flooded with invitations from other writers and filmmakers looking to connect. What’s more, people looking to hire a writer took notice and I was contacted for new job opportunities.

About two weeks ago, I went ahead and added it to my Facebook info, as well. 

It’s like coming out of the career closet. My friends and fellow writers/filmmakers knew, but most other people didn’t. I wonder how many people, when they answer that “What do you do?” question with “respectable” answers, wish they could say they do something else? It’s easy to get stuck with labels from a job that might not fit who we are - yet it becomes how others see us.

Own who you are and what you want to do. Own it 100% and go for it with all that you can. Great things will come of it.

If you don’t believe me, just wait until my next post... I have a great update in progress.

I'm Sara McDermott Jain, and I'm a writer and a filmmaker… and in 3 years of having this blog, that's the first time I've ever posted my full name. 

Blogs, Blogs, Blogs

Last weekend, not quite recovered from filming, another intense but super-rewarding task came my way: attend the AES Convention and writing three posts for Avid Blogs.

AES, for anyone who doesn't know, is the Audio Engineers Society, and I definitely had my plate full since audio is NOT my area of expertise…

I got the job through the DFA (who recommended me thanks to my No MFA blog). Determined to help me succeed, Guy Mor, a Master Pro Tools instructor at the DFA, brought me in for an audio crash course, then let me sit it on one of his advanced Pro Tools classes. The result was that in about two days time, I learned more about the world of audio than I had learned in the previous two years.

This is not unlike what I feel film people go through on most any project. True, they don't always have to become proficient in an unknown field in two days, but they do typically have to immerse themselves in their current project, whatever it may be. The result in both cases is a feeling like your head might explode from so much over-thinking.

At any rate, I'm so grateful that this opportunity came my way. I now have a way better understanding of audio, and I firmly believe that the more a filmmaker knows about all different aspects of film, the better - never mind whether or not they'll be the ones handling that particular area.

I've come across would-be directors in film classes who have (literally) rolled their eyes and whined about how they "don't need to know any of this" - they're only interested in directing. That makes my skin crawl, not only because they'll likely, on their way up the ladder toward directing their first feature, need to take on other jobs in the film industry where they're not, you know, THE BOSS, but also because when they do finally become "the boss," they might quickly discover that the difference between being good or bad at managing all those other people is actually knowing how they do what they do.

I think, to be a good director, you need at least a rudimentary understanding of everything going into your production… but I digress!

You can check out my posts on Avid blogs at http://www.avidblogs.com/author/smcdermottjain/ (and give me a few likes while you're there!)

In other blog news, I've now been hired to create and manage the DFA's up and coming blog, a job I'm super excited about. I've written my first post following a screening of students' new work last Wednesday, and am eager to get the blog up and running. More on that to come!

The Crazy Hard

Last Sunday night, I wrapped on my most recent short film.

If my last blog post didn’t already clue you in, this was the most complicated project (of my own) I’ve ever worked on. It involved a lot of characters, a small crew, and a whole bunch of locations.

But. It. Got. Done.

I’m sure I’ve mentioned this before, but I once heard someone say that “The only people who fail in this industry are the ones who give up.” I’ve come to learn that’s completely true. It’s not that people can’t make movies. Anybody can. But they don’t because it’s too crazy hard.

If you’re directing/producing your own indie (which you will if it’s your first foray into this world) you’re managing everybody and everything that has anything to do with what, in the end, might just be a few minutes of film. And those who’ve worked on films know that hundreds of hours could easily go into creating just a few minutes.

Once you get past dwelling on the crazy hard, though, you get down to just doing... and the magic of starting to do something is that, once you’re in it, it doesn’t seem so hard. Not that you’re not exhausted, but once it’s happening, it takes on its own momentum. Before you know it, you’ve wrapped.

If you’re interested in film (and if you read this blog, you must be) all I can say is: no matter what the frustrations, stick with projects and see them through.

Start with simple ones. Maybe two or three friends to help as a crew, just a few characters, and hopefully just one location.

Then start to make it a little more complex, one project at a time (starting with the crew that will help make the end product look more professional). You’ll learn how to juggle more things than you thought possible, but most importantly, you’ll learn that making a film, beyond the crazy hard, is completely doable. Just one step at a time and a willingness to be exhausted for a while.

My last short was a big challenge. I didn’t only learn about locations, which I wrote about last time, but I learned about organizing necessary transportation and food for big groups (your responsibility, especially if they’re working for free), picked up some lighting tricks, and got hands-on experience working with different members of the crew. I learned about working with a director of photography and scheduling my shot lists according to daylight. I learned that, when short on time, there are certain shots I could cut to save time (and, by extension, certain details that didn’t need to be in the script, which will better inform my writing). I also learned about pinpointing the shots that were absolutely necessary.

But, long story short, these are all things I learned by actually making the film. In a nutshell, the most important thing I learned is that, despite the challenges of bigger, more complicated, and more polished productions, I need to just keep on diving into them and getting more and more done. As a result, what I do will become more and more professional.

I now have hours of video and audio footage to sift through, to begin the editing process. That means there are a few months to go before this project is totally done. But when I wrapped last Sunday, I felt proud knowing that I’d pulled off filming my most ambitious and challenging project to date. I grew as filmmaker because of it. What’s more, I’m now more ready to take on the crazy hard.

Location, Location, Location...

It’s been a long time since I tackled a narrative short film of my own... not since my first short, Chance. Otherworldly Encounters was a documentary, where I just needed to aim a camera at an interviewee and ask questions... Other shorts of mine involved voice overs and pictures instead of live action. And sure, I’ve helped friends on their shoots, but I kept putting off and putting off (against my own logic) doing my next dramatic short.

Why?

Because it’s really, really hard.

Well... ok, that’s only half-true. The thing about filming a dramatized story is that it just SEEMS completely overwhelming, which is why it’s easy to, well, never do it. Once you get into it, though, you go one step at a time and it's not so bad... despite the fact that there is a lot to figure out and organize. (Which is why you better be passionate about the project.)

A dramatic piece involves a LOT of planning, story-boarding, and... location-scouting.

Location scouting is something I never gave a moment’s thought and which has proved, on this project, anyway, to be the bane of my existence.

With Chance, I had two characters in one location - Grand Central. That in and of itself was hard, because GC is packed with lots of tourists who want to wave in the background and snap flash photos of your film-in-progress. It’s also a location where time was limited. But at least it was one location, two characters. Not too many schedules to coordinate.

But for this new short I outdid myself. Six characters, six locations where practically every character has to appear, a big crew... and basically, a big, big struggle.

As I write this, I believe the schedule has finally been nailed down... But getting to this point felt like nothing short of a Herculean task. As a result, on this second dramatic production there are several important new things I’ve learned about locations that I want to pass along.

1. If you don’t have the right locations, postpone your shoot. It can be painful, but it’s better to take more time and get things right.
2. Have your locations confirmed BEFORE you do auditions. That way, everyone auditioning commits to the same days, days when you have your locations. (Don’t do what I did - set your days, audition and choose your cast, THEN get your locations. This ensures that you’ll have to change your original days as you struggle to find times that work for your whole mob of cast, crew, and people generous enough to let you film in their homes.
3. If you can’t pay them, throw the homeowners whose homes you use as locations all the perks you can think of.
4. Remember logistics. If a location is far away, you’re not only responsible for getting everyone there - you also need to make sure it’s possible to get all you want at that location in one day’s time (or you’ll be schlepping everyone out there again the next time they can all make it - which might be next year.)
5. Combine locations whenever possible. Also, if you have an actor coming from a long way off, try to keep your locations close enough so that he’s not on the road all day.

That’s it for now, but I’m sure I’ll think of more. Granted, these lessons apply to the low-budget filmmaker who’s pretty much coordinating these things alone and without a budget. In which case, I saved the best piece of advice for last:

Set your story in one location - preferably your own home!

Is Facebook the New Form of Journal-Writing?

Two weeks ago, I attended (for free, yay) some master classes at a theatre school in Manhattan. One of the speakers was David Lindsay-Abaire, a Pulitzer Prize-winning playwright who also did the screenplay for Rabbit Hole, which garnered Nicole Kidman and Oscar nomination a few years ago.

During the Q&A, one of the attendees asked David what role he thought journal-writing played in the creative writing process.

He thought about it for a moment and then announced that, for him, it didn’t play any role - his worry with journal-writing was that it would be too self-absorbed, and so would any creative writing that would grow out of it.

I thought about this quite a bit (so much so that I did a journal entry on it!) Journal writing, for me, has always been a big part of the creative writing process, not because any stories grow directly from it, but because it’s typically during journal writing that I stumble upon my best insights on life.

But I had to agree that there was something about David’s “self-absorbed” worry... and I can admit that I’ve written many a one-sided, upset journal entry in my day. (That’s what they’re good for, right? Getting all that angst out?)

But the plus side of a journal - to someone who takes it to that level, someone who’s honest with him or herself - is that after some venting, and some self-defending, it also gives you a space in which to write about where you may have gone wrong, things that are nagging you and making you feel guilty - and a space to brainstorm how to do better in the future.

In short, a chance to understand yourself - and, by extension, other people - better.

Everywhere I look nowadays, I see narcissism. Instead of being contained in private journals, though, it comes in the form of super-abbreviated tweets and Facebook status updates. (Not excluding my own posts.) These are the key ways in which people are keeping track of their emotions. And how deep into their emotions can they go in just a few sentences?

This is probably why people get the urge to post rambling, too-much-information updates. They need an outlet. But mostly they’ll just get a few friends reflecting their rage and indignation right back at them, justifying it - so there’s no chance of growth there and, though it might temporarily feel better, the problems still remain. 

I agree that when going into our lives and our issues, there’s a danger of being self-absorbed... But whether it’s through creative writing alone, or also journal writing, the act of writing itself offers an opportunity to explore ourselves on a deeper level, in a way that just talking with friends can’t always accomplish... and in a way that just a sentence or two - the fast food equivalent of writing - could never, ever hope to reach.

Adaptation

Last week marked the completion of my first-ever attempt at adapting someone else’s work.

I wasn’t adapting from a book or a play, but rather, from a collection of songs that had been performed off-Broadway a few years back. The songwriter was someone I had met through a writing gig I got last winter, writing up a sizzle reel for a prospective new TV drama.

The material I had to work with (talking about the adaptation again) was fantastic. The songs were powerful and thought-provoking, the ballads beautiful. However, this didn’t stop this from being the most challenging project I’ve worked on to date. 

I’d always thought Broadway plays like Mamma Mia and Movin’ Out had it so easy - just cobbling together a story from already hit songs. What I discovered, though, is that developing a story that can make sense within the context of certain songs, and which allows expression for a range of different characters, is a major challenge. 

Working the music in without having it be too abrupt was a major challenge. (We're keeping it a musical.)

Having four different “lead” characters, whose stories all had to have interlocking beginnings, middles, and ends, was a major challenge (and it was also the first time I worked on anything that could fall under the heading ‘ensemble.’)

But what’s hardest of all in doing an adaptation is taking into your hands and heart something that was originally created by someone else. You wind up needing to be a lot more precious about it than you would with your own creation, since you don’t know which aspects of the original work the original creator is going to value the most. And when you do make creative decisions, you worry that the original creator might take offense to them or just be outright horrified at the direction in which you took their baby.

Will he be devastated that I made this character such a monster? Will he feel like my overall theme and message are wrong? Will he think that my representation of this particular under-world, which I’ve researched but not had any personal experience with, is laughably inauthentic?

Which brings me to the most difficult part of doing an adaptation - waiting to hear from the original creator what he thinks about what I’ve written.

Director Bashing

No, this isn’t a post where I’m going to bash a director. I’m just surprised how much of what I read online involves director bashing. 

Or, if it doesn’t, the comments section for the articles are loaded with director bashing.

The director is a strange creature in my opinion (despite the fact I sometimes am one). They’re all incredibly different and, despite collaborating with huge crews to put something together, typically receive most of the praise (or blame) for a film, depending on how it turns out. Truth is, making a film is such a detailed and arduous process, that, vision aside, it’s very difficult to get a finished product to even closely approximate what had originally been intended.

But I digress...

The article that sparked this blog post was Terry Gilliam: The Difference Between Kubrick (Great Filmmaker) and Spielberg (Less So). Check it out. The core of Gilliam’s argument is that creating happy or successful endings (even for otherwise depressing films) is less “great” than creating films people have to go home and think about.

I regard both of these directors very highly. Kubrick is in my top two all-time favorite directors (along with Hitchcock), but Spielberg is definitely in my top ten, and close to breaking my top five. What shocked me reading through the comments section of this article is that it instantly became Kubrick vs. Spielberg. I mean, I understand why - the article is about comparing their styles, even though, as a few people pointed out, it’s like comparing ‘apples to oranges.’ 

But even so, the comments were less about comparing and more about ripping one or the other to shreds (and usually it was Spielberg getting shredded.) One participant who came to Spielberg’s defense - not ripping up Kubrick, but trying to show why Spielberg contributes something of value - got massacred by the others. 

The more comments I read, the more my jaw dropped. I think it’s obvious that both of these men are incredibly talented, and that anyone interested in film can benefit from studying both of their techniques. I understand feeling super-passionate about Kubrick (or whichever director affects you the most) but to go on to say that one director is COMPLETELY worthless just because you like the other one more is a bit ridiculous.

Who can argue that Spielberg has had a tremendous affect on cinema, and that he’ll go down as one of its legendary figures? How many images from Spielberg films have become an ingrained part of our culture?

A few people ripped on the fact that Jaws was only a success because the shark broke and Spielberg had to improvise... but isn’t the ability to creatively solve such problems on-set the hallmark of a great director?

I don’t think the entire body of work of one person (who is undeniably talented) can be totally discounted just because one person of (arguably) greater talent also exists. Have your preferences - but be open-minded.

Besides... Jaws is simply wonderful. :)

BONUS NOTE: I had one other thing to say about director bashing, because of all directors, this is the one I probably see get bashed THE MOST: M. Night Shyamalan. In my opinion, his undoing lies in the fact that his first movie, The Sixth Sense, is so amazing that everything after it fails to measure up. But honestly, he’s made quite a few movies since then that I’ve enjoyed. I thought Signs, The Village, and Devil were all pretty good, maybe with a few things I would have changed, but thoroughly enjoyable and engrossing none the less. Also with some excellent, artistic shots. If these had come before Sixth Sense, I think this might have been a director who developed a loyal following based on his knack for building suspense that later would have made him more main-stream. As it is, he was catapulted to major super-stardom overnight, giving everyone free reign to be super-critical of his future efforts.

But, feel free to disagree in the comments... just keep it all in perspective. :)

My First Distribution Deal!

About a week and a half ago now, I celebrated a pretty big milestone… I signed my first distribution deal with a web channel for my short films.

Meaning that, for each short film I churn out, I can actually be paid. Paid. For SHORT FILMS. Who knew?

Short films are up-and-coming. (Yet another reason to make shorts, in addition to learning about film-making, getting your name out there, building a resume, and making connections.)

Shorts have always existed, but in a way that was pretty much limited to film festivals. The average person didn’t see too many of them. Now, thanks to the proliferation of online content, shorter attention spans, and the encouragement of the big leagues (this year was the first year that the Academy of Motion Pictures released a DVD of the Oscar-nominated short films), they’re in demand.

What’s more, a number of web channels have sprung up and are looking for content, and this includes short films. I got my deal by responding to a post I saw on one of the many industry newsletters I subscribe to (I think it was Media Source) about how iflixtv.com was looking to build new content partnerships. I applied, submitted my links - and the rest is history.

I signed a 6-page contract (after asking about 1,000 questions) and will now receive 70% of what viewers pay to iflix to watch my shorts. I can upload as many as I like (once each short makes it through their clearance process, that is.) What’s more, the deal is non-exclusive, so I am still allowed to submit my shorts to festivals or post them to my Vimeo or Youtube pages if I so choose.

I think this will provide a great means through which to learn about what’s marketable and what’s not. Since my earnings correspond directly to what people will watch and how long they watch, this deal gives me a great new tool for gauging what people like and want.

The best part of all though is having both #1. Validation that my short films are worthwhile, and #2. Inspiration to make more shorts in the coming months. A producer friend and I are discussing one in particular, and this opportunity is making me reevaluate what I can do on my own, cheaply and quickly, to get more shorts up fast.

Also, since a recent study I read showed that people are more likely to watch and pay for ‘episodic content’ than to log on for one-off shorts, I’m mulling over ideas for a few series… stay tuned. J

Meeting Bob Goodman

Occasionally, I meet interesting people with the same type of creative dreams that I have and, occasionally, they agree to meet with me and answer a few of my questions about what they’re doing with their lives and why.

Bob Goodman is one of those people.

I met him during a Christmas party at an NYC film school and instantly wanted to know more about his two babies: The Actors Ensemble and Done in a Day. In that first meeting he described how he’d created these things because he’d often come across acting students who, out in the real world, had very little idea about how to approach their careers.

It sounded familiar. 

A SAG actor who has been teaching, performing, writing, and directing for 30 years, it was only when Bob lost a full time job of 8 years that he discovered a new opportunity to put his expertise toward his passions. He’d realized that, in other acting schools, film equipment was antiquated, teachers hadn’t actually performed in years, and students weren’t actually getting to be onstage or on-camera. It was no wonder that, after graduating, they were lost in the woods. 

It occurred to him that there’s no summer stock equivalent for film, a way for newcomers to learn through immersion. A typical acting degree consists of learning theory, having a few stage performances, and - usually - no TV or film experience. 

As someone who loves to teach, Bob found that not having an MFA caused him to hit a wall whenever he applied to bring his teaching methods to most institutions; so, he took matters into his own hands and started his own programs. This is the same DIY spirit that I try to embody with the No MFA Project. His emphasis is on small classes, so that his students get the chance to try, fail, and therefore grow. Everyone is involved in every aspect of production. Bob is even known to cause a few (on purpose) disruptions on-set so that flustered students learn what it is to cope with issues at work. As he says, “You can’t prepare trying to be perfect.”

Done in a Day is another one of his programs: within one day he guides student actors in creating their look and their image, does their headshots, brands them with social media, and follows it all up with an end-of-day acting class and panel discussion with industry professionals.

If you’re struggling to become an actor in NYC, I highly recommend checking him out:

www.theactorsensemble.com

My First Trip to L.A.!

So at the end of March, I took my first trip to L.A. It was a combination ScreenwritingU event, plus meetings of my own that I had set up. One of my key goals is to become a better networker, and these past two months have actually been jam-packed with great meetings - and the development of a new approach to such meetings.

But first, L.A.

I was a bit shell-shocked. I’d never been there before, and it was very different from NYC - and the industry people I met were a lot less schmoozy, which I would have expected to be the other way around. 

(Random note - for some reason, L.A. hardcore reminded me of an upscale India? I think it had to do with the open-air markets, the temperature at that time of year, the colors, and, sometimes, the dust.)

I think I was more unsettled about the trip than I let on, even to myself. On one hand, I was going to learn, to make connections... but on the other, there was that nagging inner voice insisting that I sell a screenplay ASAP.

It was an incredibly worthwhile trip, all in all... I have one producer who wants to see a treatment for an idea I have when it’s ready, and I connected with several others, a few of which have now even become Facebook friends. I had a fantastic lunch with the screenwriter of the last Arnold Schwarzenegger movie, the wonderful Andy Knauer (a former student of my dad's!), and got a great inside look at what his life’s been like since going through the process of making The Last Stand.

But still, the trip left me with this nagging, unsettled feeling.

I came back a little disheartened. (Of course, this was heightened because it was promptly followed by some hard times. Not to digress too much, but my husband and I had been trying to buy a place which fell through last-minute, and we lost our old apartment in the process... Don't worry, we found a new home! But that was a terrible week - even though the producers I met never would have known it by the bubbly messages I was sending them after our meetings!) 

Anyway, back to L.A... not one person I met there (and all in all, I met about 20) wanted to do an action film, which is what I was peddling. (Despite the fact that action right now is the genre in which the most scripts are being sold.) 

I learned an important thing: the success of your story is very much dependent on who you’re talking to and what they need at that moment. If they've done a particular genre in the past, it doesn't mean they'll want to do it again. While I’d mostly arranged meetings with ScreenwritingU folks and also with producers that I’d previously heard speak or had some other connection with, I hadn’t specifically sought out the right people for the project I’d just completed. It was no wonder I left feeling unsatisfied.

If you get in a room with a person looking for your type of project, you’re set - they’ll want to read it. (Then hopefully the writing's good enough that they'll want to see it made.) I saw this happening with friends of mine that week in L.A., who had quirky, very niche-audience indie scripts - and happened to meet with people specializing in just that.

The other important thing I learned is that, no matter if you meet someone who isn’t interested in a particular project at that time - they might be interested in something of yours later, or in developing a new idea with you (as is the case with me right now). So just make an amazing contact, be laid back, and be realistic. Look to the future.

To wrap this up before it gets too long, my new approach is all about #1. Assuming that you will be rejected most of the time, expect it, and then just keep moving forward (and always having new things to suggest) - and #2. Approach each and every meeting like you’re meeting with friends. It’s a very social business. People want to work with someone they can see as a friend - even to the point of creating something to work on with that person.

I read a fantastic article on Stage 32 recently (if you’re not on that yet, get on, it’s excellent) that said just those two things: embrace the rejection part. Put yourself out there 1,000 times without any expectations and approach all these meetings like you’re meeting friends.

This is what I’ve been doing now back in New York, and I’ve had one of my best months ever in terms of making connections with people and developing new working friendships. I don’t know when my next trip to L.A. will happen. It might be as soon as this fall, or it might be way in the future. But next time I go, it’s going to be an entirely different approach. :)

YouTube vs. Vimeo

Exactly two weeks ago, I posted a short, funny video based on the character Javert from Les Miserables. It was, actually, a Public Service Announcement where Javert denounced Jean Valjean in a message he ‘paid for and approved.’

Please check it out here.

This was a fun experiment for me for a few reasons (not the least of which was that it was impossible not to keep laughing while making this). Number one, in terms of knocking off a quick project, this was super easy. Since all I needed was a voice-over artist, I was able to audition actors over the phone.

Second, recording a voiceover is a lot easier than trying to record an actual scene or even a documentary-style interview like I did with Otherworldly Encounters. There’s no lighting to rig, no picture to set, no making sure your mics can actually pick up the voices of your subjects as they move around - there’s just a guy in a sound booth talking into a mic that’s directly hooked up to your camera.

But my reason for this post really has nothing to do with debating the pros and cons of video vs. voiceover. What I really want to talk about is YouTube vs. Vimeo.

Javert’s PSA was the first video I ever posted on YouTube. Prior to this, I was putting everything on Vimeo. This was mainly because I’d been influenced into thinking Vimeo is the site for ‘serious’ film-making professionals, and I grant you, there’s some truth to that. While just about any kid with a cell phone can and will post video clips on YouTube, on Vimeo you’ll find actors’ reels and serious attempts at short film and animation. Without a doubt, the people who see your work on Vimeo are the people who tend to really care about film.

BUT... when you think of things going viral, do you ever think of Vimeo?

Most likely, no. And now I understand why. 

Your Vimeo video will not link to any other videos on Vimeo. They won’t link to you. You can choose to ‘join’ someone’s page, but that’s only if you somehow first find them and become a fan of their work. It’s great if you fall into ‘staff picks’ and get featured on the home page, but with a ton of people vying for that honor each week, chances are slim. You do sort of get a feed of videos that might interest you, but apart from the title and cover image, it’s usually hard to know what they’re about without taking the time to click into each.

YouTube, on the other hand, offers links to other options at the end of and even during videos, so if anyone watched something similar to mine, mine would pop up and maybe intrigue them enough so that they’d watch it. Within the first few hours of Javert’s PSA being posted, it got 20 views - and I hadn’t yet sent it to one person in the world, tweeted it, or put it in my Facebook status. So, doing nothing, people had already begun to find it and like it.

“But No MFA Project,” you might say, “It’s not a fair contest. This video was based off of Les Mis, a movie that was up for an Oscar last week. It had built-in buzz.”

That may be, but in the case of Otherworldly Encounters, a collection of interviews with people who had had supernatural experiences, I released it just a few days before Halloween. It was also timely, with some built-in holiday buzz.

That was 4 months ago, and Otherworldly Encounters, even after my getting the word out, has had 97 views on Vimeo.

Javert’s PSA has been up exactly 2 weeks as of today and currently has... 461.

If your film is still in the festival circuit and you want to keep it mostly under wraps, yes, use Vimeo. If you only want other film people to be the ones checking it out, as opposed to the masses, yes, Vimeo.

But if you want sheer number of views, I’d go YouTube all the way.

How to Pitch Like a Pro!

At last - a post about how to pitch!

Pitching is presenting your script’s concept to someone in a position to help you. This might be a producer, director, manager, agent, or even high-profile actor.

You should be able to pitch in a very, very short period of time. Granted, if you get an actual meeting with a production company, you can discuss all elements of your script… but most of the time, you’ll need to get people’s attention ASAP (think pitch-fests, being introduced to an industry contact at a party, etc.) You want to be able to present your idea in under a minute – and, ideally, in just one line. (Referring back to an earlier post, most production companies want ideas that are ‘high-concept,’ and one criteria of high-concept is that you’re able to see the entire movie in just one line.)

I have some background with sales, so for me, pitching is just applying sales skills to a conversation with an industry professional. This means describing your product in a way that shows them why it is valuable.

I’ve had a great amount of success with pitching thus far – everyone I’ve ever pitched to has requested to read my scripts. Now, it’s time to pass that knowledge on to you! Below, I’ve listed out my basic guidelines for what you should do:

1. Know how much time you have and work with it. If you’re going to a pitch fest, they’ll tell you in advance how many minutes you have. However many it is, try to leave one or two (at least!) at the end for answering questions about your idea and exchanging contact info. At a pitch fest, when you’re out of time, you’re out of time, and if you don’t have their contact info, it was a waste.

2. Say the genre FIRST. I’ve heard this complaint a jillion times from people in the industry: a writer will launch into their pitch without telling the genre. Since you’re very involved with your script, it’s obvious to you if it’s comedy, drama, horror, or what-have-you. Not so for someone who is unfamiliar with your work. Nowadays, there’s lots of darkly humorous dramas, or serious storylines that are still considered comedies because of how witty the writing is. In fact, having a unique spin on what makes a ‘comedy,’ or any other type of movie, might just make your idea interesting enough for professionals to request. Do everyone, especially yourself, a favor by telling the genre first.

3. Open with your one-liner. Right after you sit down, say “My script, (insert title), is a (insert genre),” and give them your one-liner. Ideally, this one line should show off your high-concept idea and make them see the entire movie. It should be as interesting a hook as possible so you win them over for the rest of the meeting.

4. If time allows, summarize the story. Once all this is done, do you still have any time? If this was a chance introduction at a party, then you don’t – unless your audience is so fascinated they keep asking for more info. If it’s a pitch-fest, you have just a few minutes – enough time to give a very short synopsis of your story. I repeat, VERY SHORT. It’s not the time to get into a scene-by-scene breakdown. Instead, you just hit a few key points that tell the story, again making it all as juicy as can be.

5. Giving the ending – gauge what they want. Some people will tell you to never give the ending, since curiosity will make people request the script. Others say always give the ending because the person you’re pitching to can’t judge what they think about your story without it. I say, pitch without giving the ending – but then gauge whether or not they want it. Figuring this out doesn’t take a mind-reader: end your pitch at the end of your second act by saying something like “And then things really get interesting,” or “Which brings us into our final showdown.” You get the idea. End with a cliff-hanger. If they say, “Wow, I’d love to read it,” you’re done. Otherwise, they might ask what happens. If they do ask, tell them! You may feel like if they want the milk they have to buy the cow, but really, refusing to share the end will make you look uncooperative and will make them unsure about whether or not the whole story lives up to the great first two acts you pitched.

6. The obvious. Public speaking is harder for some than others and pitching is, in essence, a presentation. But practice. Have people you trust watch your pitch. You want to make eye contact, cut out the ‘umms’ and the stutters, use animated language and tone of voice, and be sure to move around a bit. I don’t mean flail your arms wildly, but show how exciting this idea is by, well, being excited – and excited people don’t sit perfectly still with stiff arms by their sides. Use your body language! Lean in, gesture, be enthusiastic!

I hope this helps you! If you have any other advice on pitching or have had an experience with pitching (good or bad) then please share what you’ve learned in the comments!