Mentorship – A Powerful Hand Up

Mentorship – A Powerful Hand Up

A few weeks ago, I was working at my “Saturday coffee shop,” musing over what my next article should be, when a woman from across the patio got up and made a beeline in my direction. I could tell she wanted to ask me something. As she got closer, I was astonished to realize that I recognized her.  

She wanted to take my picture to send to a former intern who looked remarkably like me. Turns out, I also look remarkably like me, a former intern of hers from a bajillion and a half years ago. We were surprised and delighted to reconnect. I blurted out that horrid, disingenuous, cliché – “You haven’t changed a bit!” – because it was true.   

D. Diane Miller was likely the second person I ever worked for in my Hollywood career. Neither of us can recall how we met, but reconnecting this way seemed serendipitous to us both. 

As I chatted with Diane, I suddenly realized what I wanted to write about – mentorship. And the bosses and mentors who impacted my career and my life. 

That’s why I’m always adding new mentorship packages for the writers I work with as a consultant, so they can benefit from this crucial ingredient to success. You can read about them here.

It takes both talent and serendipity to break into the industry. And by that I mean the combination of preparation, relationships and lucky timing, mentorship is the surest way to gain those ingredients and to advance once you’ve gotten a foot in the door.

The best part of mentorship is that at some point you’ll be able to give someone else a hand up.

Toe to Toe

As I think back on my time with Diane, I’m struck with two things. First, even though I was truly just a kid, and an intern, she treated me with respect, included me in meetings, and handed off tasks, never doubting I would accomplish them.

Decades ago, Diane constantly worked with male business partners and in all-male settings. Never, ever, did she seem to be on anything less than an equal footing. When I asked her about this recently, Diane said that in many ways she considered women superior to men, and was reaching down to lift them up to her level! 

How to Take A Meeting

Her business partner at the time, a male producer, took me to my first ever, real film industry meeting. He had been in the business for ages, and knew exactly how it worked. It was a Meetings 101 primer – the kind that you aren’t offered in any Ivory Tower. 

I soaked it in. I watched him start with what seemed like casual, small talk and then deftly transition to the project that was the purpose of the meeting. So smooth. Wow. That’s how it’s done.   

I learned right then and there how the industry takes a meeting and how a skilled producer operates. They start the ball rolling, tee it up for the writer, hand it off and then step back. And that’s how I’ve handled it for the rest of my career. In countless pitches to studios with a great idea and a writer in tow – whether they were a newbie of an Academy Award© nominated professional – I knew what my job was.

In the room, I learned that once my “active” work was done, the single most important thing I could do as a producer once the pitch began was shut up and observe. I sit the writer directly across from the most important person in the room, and I sit off at an angle where I can watch not the writer, but the decision-maker, observing their expressions and their body language.

Where did we hook them? When were they confused? When were they utterly engaged? All this feedback based on reactions would go back to the writer later so we could make the pitch better.

 

 

Mentorship Takeaways 

  • Never lose sight of your value. See yourself on equal footing with your peers.
  • Watching how it’s done in the real world surpasses even the best how-to books.

Never Let Them See You Sweat

My first real industry job was as an assistant at a boutique literary agency. There is no better place to learn how the business works than an agency. Infinitely harder than working for two independent producers, but a priceless education, and I was eager to get schooled.

I worked for the two youngest, i.e. lowest level agents: A man who worked in feature and a woman who worked in TV. As the lowest on the totem pole they had to do more – read more, submit more, network more. They were trying to break new writers, prove themselves, and handle added responsibilities for the agency of covering studio open assignments and network staffing.

2 bosses + several incompetent assistants who proceeded me + young agents working 10 X harder than the partners = 60-hour work-weeks yields BIG learning curve.

To top it off, my two bosses had offices on different floors! I was literally running. My agents were sending out up to a dozen submissions a day. This is back in the olden days of scripts on paper, sent via delivery service, each with a perfect cover letter attached. I worked hard as hell, and I handled it. Except for getting a complaint from the bookkeeper that I was rushing around the script library/Xerox room/kitchen and looked stressed. Seriously?

So I trained myself to speed walk and whistle while I worked. OK, I can’t whistle a tune to save my life, but I hummed, and I smiled. No way was I going to be accused of not being able to handle the pressure. 

My male boss, Gary Pearl, early in his career then but now a highly successful manager- producer, is the person truly responsible for getting me into the business. Except for a handful of quirks which I readily adapted to – may of which I picked up and still use – I knew exactly what he expected of me, and I could deliver. 

Breaking into The Industry

In case I haven’t harped on the importance of having relationships to get into the industry as well as to advance, here’s the scoop:

My younger brother Neil, went to Tulane University where he helped reinvigorate a chapter of the Sigma Alpha Mu fraternity, or Sammy as it is called. After Neil graduated, he was offered a job as a national field rep for the fraternity. Pretty awesome job. He traveled the country helping new chapters spring up, as well as visiting existing ones where the brothers attempt to throw the best party you’ve ever seen while he tried to get then “scared straight” on alcohol, hazing and safe sex. Perhaps I’ve made it sound a bit too glamorous, but that’s the gist of it. 

Through Sammy, Neil get to know the chapter advisor of the UCLA house, an alum, which is Gary. Who meets met I puts me up for a job as assistant to the partners, which I don’t get, coming in second place to a guy with a law degree. The next opening is for a new assistant he’s sharing with another agent. And this time I get the job.

Mentorship Learning Curve

While I freaked out that I lacked the agent sensibility, Gary taught me that if I wanted to be a development executive and a producer, I needed to focus on learning what my taste was. When I knew what types of stories I was attracted to, then I was ready to find a job with a producer who shared my taste. 

Mentorship Opportunities

Gary gave me the opportunity to do some development work, helping a green writer who had interest on a script and was stuck in rewrite hell with a development exec who he wanted desperately to please but was confusing him. Here’s where I learned how to talk with writers in the way that will bring out the best in their work, different for each individual. And, because of the development exec and his notes, I saw what happens when you fail to tell a writer what it good, what is working and why. It can disappear. And the script doesn’t get stronger in the next pass. This was one of my early experiences in working closely with a writer and supporting them through the writing process. Invaluable!

Mentorship Takeaways

  • Relationships, relationships, relationships.
  • It’s not just who you know, it’s who you know knows!
  • Nervous or not, put on a brave face, get in there and push to excel. 
  • Learn your taste in material, it’s invaluable.

Looking for Mentorship?

My Screenwriting Elevated Seminar includes 3 1/2 hours of one-on-one time! Read more here. Flyer here.

S-E-X Tips for Screenwriters: Pitch Meetings Part 2 – Horror Stories

S-E-X Tips for Screenwriters: Pitch Meetings Part 2 – Horror Stories



Dr. Paige Turner

You may think you learned all you need to know about how to take a pitch meeting in Paige’s last column.

But that’s just the beginning of the story.

Here’s Part Two of her reply to “The Beav” about movie pitch meetings – the fantasy and the reality.

Over to you Paige.

B.E.


Dearest Eager,

What could possibly go wrong in a pitch meeting?

E-V-E-R-Y-T-H-I-N-G.

As in anything possible, as well as things far beyond the furthest stretch of your imagination.

I’ve taken a seat on either side of the desk many a time. I’ve donned The Exec Hat, as well as worn a fetching Producer’s Chapeau, and let me tell you dear reader, just when you feel confident that you know how to pitch a movie idea, and what to expect in a pitch meeting, SURPRISE! Your sweet fantasy can turn into a terrifying nightmare in a flash.

The phone rings and the Exec takes the call.

Look politely off into the distance. Strive for invisibility.

The phone rings and the Exec does not take the call.

It just keeps ringing. Smoothest pitcher I ever saw in this situation said, “And then the phone rang,” and kept right on going with her story. Now that’s how to pitch a movie idea!

You start your pitch and the Exec says, “Stop!”

They have something similar in development and are cutting you off because they don’t want to get sued. Have another pitch or two prepared. Act as if you are unfazed. Nonchalantly josh, “Well you certainly have great taste,” and move on. “I’ve got a smart comedy with romance and a broad teen comedy. Would one of those be up your alley?”

The Exec hates, loathes, despises your idea from the word “Go,” and failed to pass Poker Face 101.

It hurts like hell as all the air is sucked out of the room, but you must press onward, pitching through the pain. Cut it as short as possible. Go for the highly condensed CliffsNotes version.

Those are pretty run of the mill scenarios that every writer should be prepared to face. I’ve survived meeting disasters too outlandish to be believable in a movie. A few are simply too painful to for me recount, but here are a few that put many horror movies to shame.

The Exec starts to fall asleep.

Yes.

Really.

I was having a delightful time developing a smart, high-concept thriller with a terribly handsome writer who had captivating green eyes and a sexy English accent. He was brilliant and a terrific storyteller however, when spotted strolling the halls of a studio, his agent’s phone rang with calls from woman execs eager to meet with him.

I booked pitch meetings all around the town. We were set for a late afternoon pitch when the Exec’s (presumably) busy schedule left us cooling our heels in the waiting room. Reluctant to simply bail, we stuck it out until at last, we were shown into the conference room dominated by a huge, round table.

Asleep at the pitch meeting.

By this time it was dark. The Exec sat across the vast expanse from us, parked her elbow on the table and propped her head up with her hand. As the hot writer pitched his heart out, ever so slowly, the Exec began sliding…

down…

down…

down…

along the polished wood surface.

The writer jumped up and began animatedly acting out what happened next.

Tragic.

Some catastrophes are so outlandish that they are simply entertaining.

Snake Plisskin finds himself inadvertently in a pitch meeting.

My all-time favorite fiasco story comes from my gal pal Barri Evins who, as President of Debra Hill’s company, at one point had an office in the production trailer for Escape From LA. While hearing a pitch from a husband and wife team, one of the three doors to her office popped open and there was Kurt Russell, in his tighty-whities.

Kurt, ecstatic that fifteen years later he could still fit into his original Snake Plissken outfit, was expecting to find a costume designer on the other side of the door.

The writers, seated in the corner, couldn’t see a thing.

Kurt and Barri however, shared quite the wide-eyed double take.

Talk about “Pitch us interruptus!”

No lesson here about how to pitch a movie idea, other than “Expect the unexpected.”

 

Sweet dreams!

Love You/Mean It, Paige