Tuesday, March 10, 2009

The Pitch


So, I thought I would try something new here. I'm going to be doing a feature story for a publication that will remain unnamed for the time being, but you can probably figure it out if you try. The story will take me to the San Fernando Valley, and it will focus on the adult movie industry. It has a more specific focus than that, but I will refrain from stating what that is at this time. That would sort of be like delivering your money shot at the front of the movie, and then why would anyone watch the rest?

I'm a freelance writer. I work various writing and editing and other related gigs to pay the bills. These days, I have one steady gig, and I work other gigs around that. I've been a freelance writer since 1997, when I wrote an exceptionally idiotic article for Details about how to date a tall woman. God, that's embarrassing. As a freelance writer, or at least in my experience of it, you're always juggling, and pitching, and working on things in various states. It's like being a circus clown, except nobody ever laughs.

Ideally, you want to have ongoing relationships with editors, so you're not cold-calling or cold-emailing editors all the time -- especially in this economic climate, when lots of folks are cutting back. Sometimes, you have to pitch an editor a lot of ideas to land one. (That is typical.) Sometimes you score a home run on the first try. It's like the wind. You never know which way it will go. This can be "exciting." It can also be "soul-killing."

In recent months, I've been working with an editor. She is a female. I've done some shorter work for her, but over the last while I've been pitching her various longer feature story ideas, some of which haven't worked out for a variety of reasons, including one that I couldn't do because the subject figured out who I was and was basically, like, "Oh, hell to the no." Such is the nature of this beast.

This week, we came to a meeting of the minds on a feature story idea. Then, the negotiations begin. After you get a "yes," you start hammering out the details. Depending on the situation, this usually involves pay, word-count, and deadline. This can be an easy part, or this can be a sucky part. And there is no "right answer" during this phase, because several factors may be at work for a story. For example, if you really want to do a story, you may accept less money for it. Sometimes, you will accept a stupid assignment if the pay is sexy. Sometimes, you will even do gigs for free. For example, I recently did a piece for Fray for free because it enabled me to do whatever I wanted, it was for their upcoming sex and death issue, and it allowed me to write about The Letters Project. It all depends.

Today, the editor and I haggled over these issues. There's a lot of feigning and shucking and jiving and disco dancing around during this part, because sometimes you BS to get more money, and both parties are kind of testing each other's limits. For example, I got twice as much money out of one editor while I was standing next to a dumpster and talking to him on the phone. Other times, though, there's not a lot of haggling to be done. I don't think it's a no-no for me to say very politely and terrifically vaguely that this piece isn't paying a ton, and while I'm still hemming and hawing with the editor, I've essentially decided to go ahead and accept what she's offering. Why? Because I want to do the piece. Period.

As that part of the process gets sewn up like a post-op cougar after a vaginal rejuvenation, you start moving forward on executing the piece. After I'd pretty much decided to do it, I reached out to one key contact for the story. I'm waiting to hear back from that source, and what that individual says will inform how the piece proceeds from here. Once you decide to move ahead, it's sort of like sailing. It all depends on the waves, and you kind of have to ride them. There's only so much you can control. One person points you in one direction. Another person points you in another direction. It's all a matter of how you negotiate the distance. The point is to return, like Odysseus.

In any case, my intention is to make this process transparent. Late last year, Wired attempted to make transparent the process of profiling filmmaker Charlie Kaufman -- a terrific idea that was executed with the grace of a blind man falling down a flight of stairs. The arena of celebrity profiles is overseen by ball-gagging editors and whip-wielding publicists, so it really wasn't much of a surprise that it failed and proved more meta-heavy conceit than daring execution. I guess I'm trying to do something like that here, but more, well, hardcore, as it were. Which I guess is fitting, isn't it?

My aim is to create a daily log of the creation of what I'm calling "Untitled Valley Story." I hope you will follow along, or not, as you see fit. Here we go.