I’m not criticizing agents and producers and editors for this attitude. As busy as these people truly are, and as bad as most of the projects are that they’re approached about, they have very little choice but to establish a policy requiring query letters. But that doesn’t mean you, as a writer, shouldn’t do whatever you can to get around that policy.
I’m not saying you should avoid sending letters to buyers. But I am saying that these letters work best when you see them as only one part of a process that includes referrals, cold phone calls, pitch fests and competitions. If you regard query letters as a first step toward getting your work read, and you tenaciously follow up your letters with phone calls, they can be an essential part of your overall marketing plan.
Below are my basic rules for creating a great query letter. As with any form of writing, simply adhering to the rules isn’t enough to make your letter jump off the page; you must add your own particular style and passion and originality. But do so within these parameters:
Keep it brief. Query letters are less than one page long. End of discussion.
Make it professional. This letter is the only evidence a buyer has of your talent, so if you exhibit weak writing skills in composing a simple page, why would he want to read your entire manuscript? Typos, poor grammar, incorrect punctuation, verbosity, a weak style, or a typed or (God forbid) handwritten letter (rather than one printed on business stationery) will result in an immediate pass.
Personalize it. No mail merged, “To Whom It May Concern” letters. Tell the buyer the reason you’re writing to him regarding your work, rather than to the three hundred other agents or producers you could be contacting.
Introduce yourself. If you have a degree or a background in writing, or in filmmaking, or in the subject matter of your story, say so. Also mention any accolades or achievements you, or your writing, have received (contest prizes, articles, produced plays or screenplays, published novels and short stories, etc.).
Notice how these last two items match the first steps of your 60-second pitch. First you establish rapport by revealing why you picked this buyer, then revealing something about yourself that increases her interest. You might even include a sentence revealing how you came up with the idea before you segue into your story description.
Lead with title and genre. Unlike your pitch, your query letter should reveal the title of your screenplay, and provide antecedents or demographics, before you describe the story.
It’s possible the genre will already be clear, if the reason you gave for contacting this buyer is because they publish or produce or represent projects with the same demographic as yours. If you loved what this buyer said at the Mystery Writers of America convention, it’s a safe assumption you’ve written a crime story.
Convey the key emotional beats to the story. In a single paragraph — two at the most — give a clear picture of what the story is about.
This is where the pitch you’ve prepared can be of great value. Those key elements of story can be used here as well. In just two or three sentences, it’s possible to create empathy for your hero, describe the setup, establish her goal and the obstacles she faces, and reveal any underlying character arc or theme.
Your story description should be more than simply a log line, which is too short and flat to elicit sufficient emotion in written form. But it should also be less than a 60-second pitch, which would take the whole page to write in its entirety. Instead create a powerfully written paragraph that conveys just enough of your story to hook the reader and leave him wanting more.
Let’s say you were writing a query letter about our baseball card story from Chapter 2. After revealing why you chose this particular buyer, and mentioning any credits or experience that speak to your writing talent, you might say:
The Last Mickey Mantle is a coming-of-age comedy, similar in tone and style to Stand By Me and About a Boy, about a shy, withdrawn ten-year-old boy who, after learning his father is dying, sets out on an odyssey to find the one, priceless item missing from his dad’s baseball card collection.
Along the way he’s befriended by a con artist who is secretly hoping to get the card for himself. Together they must find and persuade a reclusive billionaire to part with his most valuable possession: Mickey Mantle’s rookie baseball card.
If you were to read this and call it a pitch, it would fall flat. It lacks the passion and detail a 60-second pitch possesses. But it gives a clear idea of who the hero is and why we’ll care about him, as well as the opportunity, the visible goal, and the inner and outer conflict.
No hype. Same rule as with a pitch. Don’t tell the buyer how great or exciting or current or important the story is, and don’t proclaim that it will make a fortune, change the world or win a Pulitzer.
Promise future contact. Ask the buyer to contact you if they’d like to see it, but say something like, “or if you prefer, I will contact you in the next few days to see if you’d like to discuss it further.”
Even though each query letter you write should be personalized, you can still create a boilerplate, then simply change the opening to match the recipient, keeping a copy of each letter you send.
Emails
The rules for emails are pretty much the same as for query letters. If you can obtain a buyer’s email address, I’d recommend using it, since executives often read their own emails, rather than having them screened by assistants. (This is changing, however, as more and more queries come through cyberspace.)
If you send an email, put your letter in the text of the message; many recipients refuse to open attachments which might contain viruses.
Use the same wording as you would for your query letter, but with a simple salutation instead of a date and business address at the top. However, your signoff should include your address, phone number and email address, just as your business stationery would.
If you don’t get a reply to your email, you can then send the letter as a hard copy, or you can go directly to the follow-up phone call.
Phone Calls
Every agent, every manager, every producer, every publisher and every executive will tell you not to phone them.
I understand. I would too, if I were in their position.
But if I’m a writer with a great screenplay or novel, and I truly believe it can be a hit or a best seller, and if you’re an agent or producer or editor whose work I really respect, and if I honestly believe that you’d be an ideal person to be involved in my project and that you’ll get richer if you are, then I’m going to do whatever it takes that isn’t immoral or illegal or unfairly intrusive to tell you about it. And that includes calling you up.
I won’t be rude, I won’t be devious, I won’t be defensive or gushy or apologetic, I won’t take up more than a couple minutes of your time, and I’ll talk to an assistant or anyone else at your company if that’s what you prefer. But don’t ask me not to try.
If you’ve already written a query letter or an email, follow it up with a phone call a few days later. Ask to speak to the specific person you wrote to, and say that she should be expecting your call. If you already met the buyer at a conference and she told you to call, or if you got a referral from someone the buyer knows, say that.
If this is a cold phone call, do the same thing. You just won’t be able to say, “She should be expecting my call.”
If the assistant (or whoever you’re talking to other than the target person) asks what it’s regarding, say that you have a project you want to discuss with this particular buyer.
Here’s where it gets tricky, and where most writers cave. If the assistant says, “I’m sorry, but she doesn’t accept unsolicited material” or “She’s not willing to discuss material over the phone,” then reply, “I understand that’s your policy, but. …” and then explain exactly why you’ve chosen this buyer to approach with your project. Then say, “This just seems like such a perfect match for your company, I thought I should call. It will only take two minutes, I promise.”
<
br /> Use the phrase “for your company” as a subtle way of including the assistant in the process — to turn him into an ally. If he then says, “I really can’t,” ask if you can tell him about the project. Say, “I’m pretty sure when you hear about it, you’ll want to read it. And once you do, you’re going to want to pass it on to your boss.” Remember, your goal is to get anyone at the company to read your story.
Use this same technique if the assistant says he’ll have his boss call you back, but she never does. Wait a few days, and if you haven’t been contacted, call again. Ask if there’s a better time to call to reach the buyer. Or ask if the assistant could schedule a specific time for you to have two minutes on the phone with her.
If the second call isn’t returned within a few days, make a third call, only this time say, “I know how busy your boss is, and I don’t want to become a pain in the ass by calling all the time. Suppose I took just 60 seconds to tell you about the project, etc., etc.”
This approach won’t work all the time. In fact, you’ll be lucky if it works with one attempt out of every ten. But once your writing and your pitch are ready, you’re going to contact dozens of people, and even a 10% success rate — combined with the successes you’ll have with all the other approaches — will be enough to get your work in the hands of people who can move it forward.
Elevators
Somewhere along the line, someone described the 60-second pitch as an “elevator pitch,” as in, “If you boarded an elevator and Steven Spielberg (for some reason it’s always Steven Spielberg who shows up in these fantasy situations) stepped in after you, and pushed the button for the 23rd floor, how would you, in that short amount of time, get him to read your screenplay?”
There is always the possibility — especially if you live in Los Angeles, New York or London — that you’ll encounter a possible buyer at a party, or on a bus, or while you’re waiting for a restaurant valet to bring your car, or while you’re getting his car, because you’re working as a valet while you finish your screenplay. So you must always have three things with you wherever you go: a well-prepared 60-second pitch; a well-prepared 10-second pitch (see Chapter 10); and a pen and notebook, so that if a buyer expresses interest, you can jot down his contact information.
Two More Opportunities
This is a book about short pitches, not about marketing in general, but I want to mention two other ways of getting your material read: contests and internet listings. Neither of these involves pitching your project, but each one uses the key story and marketing principles we’ve discussed.
Contests. Writers frequently ask me if writing competitions are worth entering. In my opinion, anything you can do that is legitimate, legal, has proven successful for other writers, and which doesn’t surpass your budget, is worth trying. Don’t make competitions your only avenue to success — don’t make any one thing your only avenue — but add them to your marketing arsenal.
Many of the websites mentioned in Chapter 4 have information and links to writing competitions. Look for contests which guarantee that winners will get their work read by as many established producers, publishers or agents as possible. Don’t worry so much about prize money — concentrate instead on contests that are less well known, so that you’re competing with fewer entries. And see if any regional competitions with added entry requirements apply to you. For example, a contest might insist that your story fall in a certain genre, or that a screenplay take place in the state where the contest is held.
The biggest value of placing in the top three in a competition is that you can include that information in every pitch you make and every query letter you write. It’s a great way to increase interest in your project. And every major agency, studio and publisher has staff members who track down contest winners.
Internet Listings. Like pitch fests, log line listings and writers’ showcases on sites like InkTip.com, writelink.co.uk, screenscripts.com, ScriptShark.com, scriptpimp.com, bookpitch.com, and authorlink.com provide a way for less established writers to get their stories in front of the people in power.
Every one of these sites claims a high rate of success at getting deals for its members. So before you plunk down your money and put your story out there in front of God and everybody, check them out.
Go to donedealpro.com or bookwire.com and search for the titles of the projects listed among a site’s success stories. Were they published? Are they in preproduction? Are they listed at all?
If the site reveals the producers or publishers who optioned these projects, look them up in the directories listed in Chapter 4. Then phone the companies directly and ask whoever you can get on the phone if the claim is accurate. Did they find the script or book though the website? Did they truly make a deal? Is it going forward? (And while you have them on the phone, ask what kinds of projects they’re looking for now. Always be on the alert for possible places to pitch your own story when it’s ready.)
This may sound as if I’m overly skeptical about such sites. I’m actually not — I tend to take them at their word, and consider them worth the effort of pursuing. I just think you should show caution and good judgment about all the places you market your work. Don’t pay for the opportunity to be a website’s first success story.
Just as I was writing this passage on internet listings, I got a call from a screenwriter who had never heard of such companies. When I mentioned what I was writing about, he said, “If you post your idea on the web, can’t somebody steal it?”
This is a question I hear repeatedly. And my answer is always, “Yes, they can. But the only way you can guarantee no one will steal your story is not to show it to anybody. And if that’s your approach, what’s the point of writing it in the first place?”
Certainly stories do get ripped off. But the work and guilt and legal risk involved in taking someone’s log line, developing it into a complete story, writing it, rewriting it, rewriting it again, then marketing and selling it and getting it produced or published without anyone finding out the truth is so great that even for dishonest people, it’s almost never worth it.
So protect your material as I describe in Chapter 7, do your best to check out the avenues you pursue, and then get your story out there. What other choice do you have, really?
Finally, if you do use a posting service of some kind, use the principles of telephone pitching to hone your story description into a sentence or two which will captivate the reader, just as you must with your pitch, your log line and your query letter.
You’re almost ready to go. You’ve got a great story; you’ve been faithfully researching potential buyers; you’ve targeted those most appropriate for your project; you’ve gotten some referrals; you’ve sent some personalized query letters; and you’ve registered for a writers conference which includes opportunities for one-on-one sessions.
Now here are a few final thoughts and recommendations before you finally pitch your story.
Protection
Before you send your screenplay or manuscript to anyone — before you even pitch it to anyone or tell anyone your idea — be sure to register it for copyright. (Go to www.copyright.gov for information.) This is your best legal protection should someone try to steal your idea.
If it’s a screenplay, I’d also recommend registering it with the Writers Guild of America (wga.org), though this is credit protection (in case your screenplay is someday rewritten, and the credit issue goes into arbitration), not legal protection. A similar service is offered by the American Screenwriters Association (www.goasa.com).
I know lots of lawyers say that copyright is automatic, and that the WGA registration really offers nothing in the way of added protection, so this is all unnecessary. Maybe they’re right. But I think it’s probably worth the 20 or 40 bucks you’re going to spend just to know that someone out there has records that say, “This is yours and yours alone. You did this. It’s written down — right here on our official list.”
Registering your story is als
o a nice ritual to mark the completion of your screenplay or manuscript. It officially moves you from the creative stage to the selling stage. That’s worth a little money, isn’t it?
Clothing
Asking me for fashion advice is like asking a Mormon to recommend a good wine. If my wife didn’t buy clothes for me, the only thing I’d ever add to my wardrobe would be socks. Nonetheless, here are my basic suggestions for how to present yourself at a pitch mart:
Dress comfortably. Hollywood is a very casual town unless you’re an agent, studio executive, attorney or celebrity on the red carpet. This is especially true for writers. I’ve seen million-dollar screenwriters show up at meetings looking like they just packed up the sound system for a rock band, then went home and slept in their clothes.
I don’t recommend this particular dress code, but I’d avoid suits, ties, sport coats, dresses and anything else that in most of the country would be regarded as “business attire.” You will look overdressed, and perhaps be regarded as trying too hard. Plus pitch fests and conferences involve a lot of walking, standing in lines, leaning on walls and even sitting on floors. Comfort and practicality trumps making a fashion statement.
New York City, and therefore the publishing world, is a bit more formal, so I’d dress a little less casually going to meetings at a book fair or conference. But stay comfortable. And if you have a meeting in an agent’s or editor’s office, wear casual business attire.
No bare feet. Even if you’re in Hollywood, don’t go so casual that you seem like too much of a slob to do a rewrite. Wear shoes and socks. Avoid T-shirts, especially those with writing on them, like the ones that say “U of O Drinking Team” or that list all the stops on the 2003 Simon and Garfunkel tour.
Selling Your Story in 60 Seconds Page 9