Stepping Into the Spotlight

It started with an email.

My sister sent me a link in May to an article about Wizard World/Comic Con coming to her city. The article stated that Columbia Pictures was offering an opportunity for attendees to pitch their story idea for a movie. They were taking online applications. If they deemed a story worthy enough, they would invite the person to pitch the idea in person to Columbia Pictures executives.

I figured, why not?

I submitted my logline, bio, and the summary of a story about a young man who becomes tricked into becoming the lawyer for the planet’s superheroes, only for him to become their sole hope for survival. I clicked “send” and forgot about it.

And then I got an email stating I was slated to meet with Columbia Pictures’ reps on June 9th at 11:30 am.

Holy suckerpunch! A couple of phone calls and a flight ticket later, I was on the plane to Columbus, Ohio, where my meeting was scheduled. That Saturday, I strolled past the attendees, including one dressed like Deadpool, another like Wonder Woman, and others like various video characters, my pitch notes in hand. I also passed Kevin Sorbo as he and his escorts aimed for the Exhibit Hall.

In a neighboring hall was a Christian fellowship event-thing. I would have taken a prime spot to watch the interactions between the two groups—whoever had scheduled the two events to occur next to each other had a nice sense of humor—but I had bigger fish to fry.

Up a flight of stairs, I left the comingling crowds to pursue my opportunity. Finding the Wizard Fest employee, I signed Columbia Pictures’ form. And waited. I talked to a gentleman who was pitching his own superhero idea and another pitchee who was a writer for Second City in Chicago, pitching his sitcom script.

When it was my turn, I was escorted into the private room. Two Columbia Pictures reps, both very pleasant and professional, shook my hand. I sat in the chair across from them.

And spoke. Fast. Probably way too fast. But I had five minutes, and I wanted to tell them not only the overall plot but my crazy characters (including Mighty Man, who has no body fat so eats the worst junk throughout the entire book), themes, humorous events, and how trying to be a lawyer for a bunch of superheroes would be like trying to herd cats. Super-strong, stubborn, spandex-clad cats.

The reps laughed at the funny parts, leaned in as I talked of the main character’s challenges and how he saves the day, “aww”ed when I hoped they would, and generally seemed to enjoy what I told them.

Just like that, it was over. They told me they’d be in touch, shook my hand, and I was escorted out. I was in there for seven minutes. Was it enough? Were they going to call? Did I talk so fast they weren’t sure what the heck I rambled about? It’s too early to tell. I suspect it will be months before I hear anything either way, but it was a great experience. Not only that, I did some recon after my pitch. This wasn’t a free-for-all. They only invited 16 people to pitch their reps. There were four people in my group and only four groups total. Which means I was already part of a select group.

I’m not sure when (or if) Lawyers Can’t Fly will swoop into theaters, but it was a heck of a ride!