I’m like a lot of writers, happiest when lost in worlds of my own creation, most uncomfortable when asked about those worlds. I want to be the person who, when questioned, raises her chin and says, “Yes, this is my project. And this is why people need it.” I applied for the Raindance Pitching Competition, knowing that it would force me to abandon my comfort zone, to practice, and get comfortable with presenting my work.
I had a script that I had just finished, a comedy-drama called Tough Old Broad, that was developed with the support of Screen Ireland. I really do love, Tough Old Broad, largely because of the affection I have for my main character, Nina, a retired human rights lawyer, known as The Rottweiler back in the day. Nina deserved an outing.
And yet. A fantastic excuse to wiggle out of the whole thing presented itself. Four hours before the competition was due to kick-off, I had to go under a general anaesthetic. I emailed Raindance and explained, “I’d hate to let you guys down by…being asleep. Maybe I’ll apply to the next one. Will there be a next one?” The lovely Denise foley answered and said. “You can go last.” Right.
Going under the general anaesthetic, I wasn’t worried about the surgery, too busy practicing my pitch in my head and stressing about what might actually come out of my mouth, if I managed to wake up on time.
Wake I did, and in plenty of time. I watched the other pitches, picked favorites, learned a few tricks. Then, suddenly, I was up. Elliot Grove cracked a joke about him being a Tough Old Broad. My nerves dissipated. I remembered that this was about Nina. I got out of my own way and focused on doing her justice as a fearless champion of the underdog, as a Martini-drinking, CBD Oil vaping, rule-breaking force.
When I won, to myself, I credited the anaesthetic. The win, though, was down to Nina, the ninja who had invaded my thoughts after a character workshop, the lone wolf who favors Die Hard With A Vengeance over Titanic, and who defends a mute teenage volunteer against a bully, only to be accused of bullying herself by the very girl she is trying to protect.
To those of you who fear pitching, the one piece of advice I give you is something I learned from the judges of the Raindance Live!Ammuntion! Pitching Competition. If you enter with a genuine passion for your project, you are armed and dangerous.
As for competitions in general, I’m a believer. In December, my first ever radio play, a comedy called The Last PTA Meeting? won the Little Wonder Radio Play Competition. My coming-of-age novel, And For Your Information, is a Finalist in the ScreenCraft Cinematic Book Competition. And my proof-of-concept short for Tough Old Broad, entitled 3 Down, won the Shedunnit Short Script Competition at WOFFF20. For me, it’s not just about the profile, it’s about someone out there connecting with my work. Which is why I do what I do. To connect.
I would like to thank Denise Foley from Raindance who did not see an anaesthetic as a barrier to entry for the pitching competition.
See Denise’s work on Twitter, Facebook, Linkedin, or Denisdeegan.com
Denise Deegan is an Irish novelist and screenwriter. Winner of The Pitch Film Fund, she has received two Screen Ireland development funds, one for an intergenerational buddy dramedy that appeared in VARIETY, the second for an adaptation of her YA novel, on the Coverfly Red List.
