Plympton, Working for Free, and Securing Your Place in the Industry

Image above from Bill Plympton's Oscar-nominated first indie short, "Your Face."

I'm currently co-writing a book on the art of Bill Plympton, title TBD, published on Rizzoli, the same press that brought us the wonderful book Unfiltered: The Complete Ralph Bakshi. And, at my present age of 36, I can't help but be blown away by the simple fact that Bill Plympton didn't complete his first film until age 37. But, wait...there's more. His first completed animation was a film called, Boomtown, a sponsored film that he took on for FREE. What?!!! Animators are not supposed to EVER do anything for free, not under ANY circumstances! That's me playing devil's advocate, but certainly some of us think that way.

Not only did Bill begin his animation career by making a sponsored film for free, it turns out it was just a continuation of how he began his previous career as a successful illustrator and cartoonist. His first work in that area was mostly unpaid work for fledgling cinema magazines or local downtown newspapers. Each "free" commission was another sample that would comprise the impressive portfolio that (soon after) landed the future-animator paid work in such publications as Playboy, Screw, Vogue, and National Lampoon (to name just a few), not to mention a nationally syndicated comic strip.

So, when Bill was willing to make his first short, Boomtown, for free, it was with the proven knowledge that free work, at its best, CAN be important work for YOURSELF. Through the production of Boomtown, Bill was able to finally have an animation mentor, in this case––animator Connie D'Antuono, who would teach him the nuts and bolts of animation production. In Bill's story, FREE work proved life-changing when he applied what he'd learned towards his first indie film, Your Face. As you probably already know, the film scored the new filmmaker an Oscar-nomination while giving us, arguably, our greatest animation hero since Ralph Bakshi.

To clarify, my position on working for free is that there are specific circumstances where it might make sense. Where it doesn't make sense, in my opinion, is when it is part of a failed studio business model, requiring YOU, the animation artist, to work unpaid simply as a part of their normal delivery plan. But, there are cases (like Bill's) where the artist uses the excuse of unpaid work to craft new samples, build skills, and increase his/her own future employability and opportunities. Each situation is different, just as each of us are different. To some of us, some amount of working for free, in the right situation, could prove to make ALL THE DIFFERENCE, just as it did for Bill Plympton.

Sure, it's easy to look at a success like Bill, follow his career trail, and see that working for free (in specific circumstances) played a big role in his development. But, how might this be applicable to someone just starting out? And, how can a newcomer distinguish between when to and when not to work for free? A study of Bill's choices helps to find that answer. For one, when he did free illustration work for cinema magazines and downtown newspapers, he was just starting out and needed the samples. But, perhaps more importantly, these were struggling magazines, not huge media empires. They had virtually no money to pay, and the big magazines weren't returning Bill's calls yet. So, he saw an opportunity to create professional samples by doing some free work for the little guys. And, later, when he decided to take on the four months of free work it required to create Boomtown, part of his willingness to do the job came from believing in its cause, the anti-nuke movement.

Mark Mayerson recently gave some great advice to graduates at his blog:
"Grads have a tendency to look at their first job as the culmination of their educations, but it isn't. It's merely the first step in a career. Just as you go from knowing everything about your high school to knowing nothing at all about your college or university, you're now going from knowing everything about the school you are leaving to knowing nothing (or very little) about the animation industry. It's no fun to start again at the bottom, but that's where you are and over the course of your career, you may find yourself starting over several more times. Recognize your position for what it is and accept it. With luck, it's only temporary."

I think Mark's advice is very relevant to the topic above. Might the odd, occasional, and well-chosen work for free be an important part of securing your place in the animation industry? I don't think there's a universal answer to this question. Just the right answer for you.

ASIFA-East and You

Pictured above, just a sampling of the world-class veterans of NYC animation found in ASIFA-East. From top to bottom and left to right are Xeth Feinberg, Candy Kugel, Debra Solomon, Emily Hubley, Signe Baumane, George Griffin, Bill Plympton, and Michael Sporn.

For lots of us in the NY animation scene, ASIFA-East is as necessary as oxygen. Despite recent signs of growth, most jobs are still on a short-term basis, be they in-house or offsite. That could be a good recipe for an isolated and fractionated community, were it not for ASIFA-East bringing people together––from retired veterans to students (along with everyone in between). I can't even calculate how important ASIFA-East has been for me both personally and professionally. Over the years it has provided connections, contacts, opportunities, and inspiration––all of which helped me persevere through hard times as well as give me confidence to dream big and create a career of my choice.

The oft-repeated Woody Allen quote "90% of success is showing up," could well apply to ASIFA-East. When you attend an event (especially if you go out with the gang afterwards) you get a chance to bond, share tips, and cheer on each other's triumphs. In other words, the average ASIFA-East event is a potential networking bonanza.

I haven't shared too many details about it, but my wife and I are in the works on our own animated feature film. To start out we are producing a 10 minute short section of the larger film––something we can use as a pitch vehicle and a festival film to (hopefully) help secure funding and distribution. To lay the proper foundation for the production that will follow, we needed just the right storyboard artist, one that perfectly matched our very specific vision for the project. For months we've been searching on and off. But, the search came to a happy ending recently, thanks to ASIFA-East.

After one of the March jury screenings a bunch of us went to the nearby Rodeo Bar to unwind and discuss the films we just saw over some beer and burgers. Near the end of the night, an old animation friend of mine joined us at the table and stayed for a drink. And, hearing about the types of projects that he'd been working on, a light clicked on in my head: maybe he'd be our perfect storyboard artist?

When I got home my wife and I checked out his website portfolio and got more proof that he was our guy. The next morning I called him and we arranged to meet for coffee that afternoon. I'm happy to report that he took on our job and delivered an amazing storyboard! Best of all, he told me, "I felt as if this was my project, something I was doing just for fun." That's what every producer wants to hear! Despite the fact that it was a paid gig, the project felt personal to him. Needless to say, if we are able to secure funding for the feature, he'll be the first person we'll call. Details about this project and those involved will be disclosed at a future time.

The important thing is that without ASIFA-East bringing us together, I would have never thought of this artist for this particular opportunity. For one thing, we'd never worked together, despite co-existing for years in the NY animation community. For over forty-five years ASIFA-East has been providing a priceless service to this community. Despite how much or how little one participates in everything ASIFA-East has to offer (monthly screenings, free drawing classes, an annual festival, a facebook group, a digital on-line newsletter with blogs, articles, event reports, and events calender) I think it's safe to say we'd all miss it if it were gone. Plug into the community and make or renew a few of your own connections by joining us on Sunday May 9th for our annual Animation festival. See ya there!

Paneling

*Image above from Elliot Cowan's multi-award winning independent short "Brothers in Arms."

Elliot Cowan is one of my favorite animation artists working today as well as a good friend of mine. I was recently privileged to sit on an animation development panel with him, moderated by the industry savvy Terence Gray (the Executive Director and founder of The New York Television Festival), on the subject of animation development on April 20, 2010 at the nifty Showbiz Center Cafe on W. 21st Street in NYC.

Long before I wrote a book on pitching and development for animation, I had attended many such panel events and no matter which city or country they're in, the same audience questions keep coming up. Some of the most commonly asked questions have to be, "Why can't there be more adult animation on TV? And, will my adult animated project have a chance?"

The meaning of "adult" in this context is the inclusion of violence, sex, and other sophisticated adult themes, much like you might see in a typical episode of original television on HBO. And, it could imply the inclusion of a season wide story arc that gradually unfolds over many episodic outings, even if the episodes themselves can be otherwise self-contained.

In North America, mainstream animation on TV and in theaters tends to be family or kid oriented. That's the biggest market where the most money can be made. Other avenues such as animation on Comedy Central, Cartoon Network's Adult Swim, and prime time animation on Fox cater to a more adult crowd but focus primarily on comedy. So, does this mean that there is no place for "adult" animation as described above?

My go to answer for this oft-repeated question is, "Who was clamoring for an X-rated cartoon showing cats in compromising situations back in 1972? One that was based on an underground character with little mainstream public recognition? None of that mattered to Ralph Bakshi who, through sheer force of his will, got that project sold, made, and distributed to profit and acclaim. To top it off, Bakshi had never made a feature before. He was not a household name nor a major name in the entertainment industry. What part of that was easy, or even probable? Just as Bakshi did––it is your job to figure it out if you want to break ground and make something nobody has seen before.

Another audience member made a short film (intending it as a series pilot) but wasn't sure who his audience was. Elliot asked him some sharp questions:

Elliot: "Who did you make it for?"
Audience member: "Kids, but I want their parents to enjoy it too."

Elliot: "So, your audience is PG."
Audience member: "Yeah, but somebody told me that my stuff was too violent. I don't think it is. At one point I have a kid hit another kid over the head with a bat. But, that's nothing. Elmer Fudd shoots Bugs Bunny in the face. And, that's for kids."

In our hour long panel discussion, Elliot and I didn't always have time to carry each answer to its full conclusion, but there was a lot to say on this topic. I'm not sure if the audience member was aware that the Looney Tunes example was made seventy years ago. Seventy years ago there was no man on the moon, Russia didn't have the bomb, and the hula hoop craze was just a gleam in some entrepreneur's eye. The world has changed in 70 years. And, along with it––the standards for what is appropriate for children to watch. The important thing is WE DON'T HAVE TO AGREE WITH IT.

A key part of the puzzle is that the Bugs Bunny shorts (and all that great golden age stuff) was made for general audiences that may or may not have included kids. Lots of adults watched those cartoons so they had to play well for a diverse audience. Second, a talking rabbit encountering a hunter is a FANTASY situation. A kid hitting another kid over the had with a bat is a real situation that can be repeated by kids anywhere, right in their own backyard. I personally believe that most kids know the difference between fantasy and reality.

But, again, my point is not that you have to AGREE that you shouldn't be allowed to have a kid hit another kid with a bat in your cartoon, but, if you you're making a cartoon pitch for TV, some executive is probably going to object to that. That's the reality. If you don't want to make the compromise, make a Webtoon and host it on your site or on youtube. The web makes a great place for your uncensored vision.

Another memorable part of the panel for me was another conversation between Elliot and an audience member. Elliot has the ability to be honest, blunt, supportive, and informative at the same time. One audience member started to describe his own pitch-in-the-making in a very apologetic manner. "They won't like it cause its pornographic and violent, etc." And, each time the would-be creator put his own work in a negative light, Elliot kept gently interrupting him by telling him, "This is a terrible way to pitch, mate. Don't point out what's shit about it." Good advice, indeed.

It was a well attended evening with questions and answers flying back and forth. We all had a blast. Thanks a bunch to Terence Gray and the New York Television festival for putting this together.

Nature versus Nurture

(master art director, Bob Levy, working at Grey Advertising in 1980––cooking up major ad campaigns by the day, and coming home by night to share the blow-by-blow stories with a seven year old Dave Levy)

Lately I've been trying to figure out why I hold the attitudes and beliefs I do about the industry and why they sometimes differ from the opinions held by my heroes and peers in animation. This Spring I've been teaching an 8 week animation career course for the Rochester Institute of Technology (held at the 92nd Street Y) where recently, one of the students may have slipped me the answer. The student asked, "Do you think you relate to management because your father worked in advertising as an art director?" I suppose that in a lot of ways that's true. I grew up on a steady nightly diet of my dad's management and workplace collaboration stories. These were tales from the creative executive side. I found them fascinating. I learned from my father that you make the greatest contribution to a project from a position at the top. And I learned the negatives too––the eternal challenge of working effectively with people, the increased stress that goes with greater responsibility, and how the greater the responsibility the greater the consequences of failure.

Maybe its more important to think about the stories I didn't grow up on. There was no parental figure telling me the world was out to get me, not to trust people, or to be automatically cynical on bosses and management. The interesting thing is there were lots of evidence in my dad's office stories that could have supported that view of the world, but instead I always took the stories as studies in human folly, not institutional folly. I didn't believe that ALL management was bad or that ALL workers were good. The reality was that to be successful in the commercial arts field, you needed to learn how to work effectively with all kinds of people and that was true whether you worked at the top or in the trenches.

As an employer, I've come across very talented animators, some at the top of their game, who behave as all employers are out to shaft them in one way or another. When you're not that kind of employer, dealing with these situations just seems like big fires to put out that didn't need to be lit in the first place. It makes for a very unpleasant work experience for both sides. It saps everybody's strength away from the fun stuff.

I know there are many bad experiences out there and each of us has similar and diverse experiences in the field. We can view the industry and our relationship with the people in it with an open mind or with a pre-judgment. And, this makes me wonder how much of our attitudes come from nature and how much from nurture? Does it depend on the diet of stories we grow up on? And, what part comes from the genuine instances of being screwed over by worst-case-scenario studio owners and bosses? Nobody denies that bad studios and bosses exist, but is it reasonable to assume each new job experience will follow suit? And, to treat people that way accordingly? Or is either view held simply a valid response to working in such an unstable industry?

Owning Your Weakness

A life in animation brings certain realities. On the negative side it's an often-unstable living. On the positive side is the privilege of a life spent doing something you love. If you want animation to do more for you, like give you the ability to buy a house, have a family, take a vactation once in a while, then you have to do MORE in animation. You have to network, keep your skills up, work and play well with others, and grow your talents outside of the realm of a paycheck. The less you do in all those areas, the more brilliant you'd better be to make up for those deficiencies.

As for me and my weaknesses? Where should I start? I'm the guy that Howard Beckerman, a wise and dear friend of mine, used to refer to as "someone who can't draw well but has great ideas." And, you know what? He got the "can't draw well" part right, and hopefully I'll still prove myself on the "great ideas" part. If Howard could see my weakness, so could others, including (most importantly) myself. On the first day of my first full-time job in the industry, at Michael Sporn's studio, I was so ashamed at my inability to draw a simple character in a few poses that I covered up my surviving drawings (the ones that didn't get crumpled into the garbage) with blank paper. All the studio's employees had to pass by my desk on the way to the lunch table and they each uncovered my drawings a little further until all my shame was exposed clear as day. Nobody offered a high five and there was no, "Hey! This guy can draw!" compliments.

These were all artists I respected and I wasn't fit to breathe their air. After the trauma of sitting through that experience the studio's affable production manager at the time, Robert Marianetti, gently asked me, "What did you show to get hired here?" The message was clear to me. I was in trouble. And, whether or not my job was truly on the line, it was important that I BELIEVED it was. I took home the model sheet, drew the characters every night until 3 AM, studied the storyboard for the pilot we were working on, and emerssed myself in the seemingly endless hours of animation that Michael's studio had completed in previous years. Little by little, I clawed my way out of the abyss and it was hard not to get emotional two weeks later when Michael promoted me to work in the studio full-time, hiring someone else to do my previous duties as studio runner/messenger.

I don't share this story to show that one can make up for a critical deficiency within two weeks. The point is that ANY day you start is where you begin. For me it was owning all the hard work that I HADN'T done up till that point and doing something about it. It's a good many years later and I'm still on that mission, to overcome my weaknesses, to try to make a contribution to this industry, and to simply keep my place in it. I would have never guessed, before my career began, that owning my weakness could prove so motivating. It's become the cornerstone of my philosophy.

The Animation Studio Blues

I don't know of a more romantic notion than opening your very own four walls and a roof animation studio. To do so is to follow in the footsteps of Max Fleischer, Walt Disney, John and Faith Hubley, and so on... For decades there has never been a better way for an animation artist to take fate into their own hands, to work with the people they'd like to be working with, and to the set of their own marching orders. There have even been pockets of time where an independent animation studio could equal big business. For instance, Shamus Culhane's 1950s NY commercial animation studio made millions of dollars at a time when commercial work was plentiful, creatively rewarding, and highly profitable.

Obviously even the smallest studio will have ups and downs that tend to fluctuate along with changes to the economy. Today, some small animation studios (at least the ones I respect most) are not in the business to make a Trump-sized killing. Instead, their founders chose to build and organize studios where independence, survival, and a lifetime doing what one loves is enough reward.

But survival comes with its own reality. For one thing, the small studio (even ones that grow as large as 75 employees) will either (as necessity or when pushed against a wall) resort to robbing Peter to pay Paul. In such a way the studio hires labor and gets paid by the client, but puts off paying the worker to first pay off other pressing bills. These bills might include rent, utilities, salaries of key personnel, and (finally) the labor that's been waiting the longest to be paid. The average small animation studio works with one foot in a ditch. And, the odd part is that the medium to large independent studios are no better off. These studios tend to go after longer form projects such as TV series work. And, yet, the economics are still such that to bring in a show on schedule, within budget, and to the desired quality... often some amount of free labor is engaged, some of which may or may not qualify as illegal internships.

Case in point: I recently caught up with a very talented animation artist who graduated four years ago. During that time he had found some long-term employment at one of the local studios, but when I saw him a couple of weeks ago he told me he was interning at another studio. Four years out of school and now working for free? What does this say about the viability of the small animation studio? Or about the health of our so-called industry? I think we can all agree that it's sobering stuff.

I don't have the desire to found my own traditional studio. But without having done so, I've been able to work from home, land jobs (big and small), and augment my efforts with off-site workforce as needed. And, when my workers have to wait to get paid, it's because I am waiting on the same check. When the check comes in, my workers get paid at the same time. No robbing Peter to pay Paul. I used to say that I didn't want to have my own studio because I didn't want to buy light bulbs. But, the real reasons I don't want a studio is I don't think I'd have the fortitude to layoff workers I'd like to keep, or to have to ask some people to work for free, or to expect others to wait to be paid despite the fact that the client has already paid for that job. And, perhaps most important of all, a virtual studio doesn't have the same pressure to take undesirable jobs just to keep the whole darn thing afloat.

The life of an animation studio owner can't be easy, but even with all the above I still find it a very romantic notion. And despite what I've written, a virtual studio is not without its challenges and problems. You have to be able to get the work, deliver the job, and get paid, and this requires a strong set of business skills, people skills, and creative chops. Perhaps most importantly, to be successful at the virtual studio you have to be able (and willing) to over- communicate to both your clients and your workers because working offsite requires this as a rule. And, not every type of job is easy (or even appropriate) to tackle in a virtual studio with an offsite workforce. The virtual studio does best with relatively simple animation jobs that don't require everyone working under one roof.

I particularly enjoy that working off-site allows me to creatively and responsibly organize my own work day. Because of this I've been able to seed in more time for my own projects than I have been able to do at any other time in my career.

Is the four walls and a roof studio a thing of the past? I sure hope not. As a virtual studio, I enjoy collaborating with such small studios on series and pilots, helping them offset their cost by providing some of their labor so they don't have to hire and station all those bodies in house, which is something that meager budgets would not allow in the first place. There must be other creative ways by which work can be organized, produced, and delivered without having to make free labor or unreasonably delayed payments the go-to solution. It's just up to us animation folks to figure it out, just as others did before us.

The Cutting Room Floor

*Gag above inspired after my final rejection in a round of pitching from 2005.

One of my favorite aspects of writing animation career books is that it requires me to conduct extensive interviews with some of today's most influential animation people. Unfortunately, there's always some great stuff that doesn't quite make the final edit. But, that doesn't mean that it can't be shared in a blog post. Here's some choice bits left out of my recent book, Animation Development: From Pitch to Production, that deserve to see the light of day. I'll do a future post with rescued tidbits from the executive side of the table. But, until then, here's something to feast on from some of today's top creative minds in the animation industry...


On how to create something personal yet universal:
"I just make up stuff that I like. It has to interest me first before I’ll consider pitching it to someone else. If your idea sells you may have to work on it for a few years so it better be something you’re interested in otherwise you’ll lose interest in it really fast."
––Butch Hartman

"It’s all about character. Concepts are good to get someone interested in a project but a concept alone won’t draw viewers back week after week. So go for strong, appealing, and relatable characters to drive your project. When creating characters, I try to think of different points of view, how they might play off each other and the conflicts they might get in with one another."
––Craig McCracken

"Every show really only revolves around a few characters. Get the heavies right and don't worry about the rest. If the supplemental characters are great and the chemistry between your lead characters stink, then it won't save the show. But if your lead characters are right on and the world, episode samples, spelling is wrong nobody cares. They can make GOLD out of
the core group.

I spend most of the time thinking out why these characters need to be together, what they represent, what a young audience will find exciting and accessible about them that I don't think a whole lot else is needed."
––Doug TenNapel

On the effects of fads or trends in the pitching process:
"I don’t pitch stuff based on the latest fad or trend because fads and trends die off and so will your show idea if it’s based on a fad. Also, doing that can majorly “date” your idea and only have it be relevant to the time it’s first aired. A few years down the road and nobody’s going to care about it any longer. It’s like if I were to pitch a show about a Rubik’s Cube right now. Who would want to watch it?"
––Butch Hartman

"I love kids and I love to know the kinds of things they like, but I don't like putting fads in my stories. I have a general rule that I want the technology and culture in my shows to still be funny in 20 years. I barely even let video games be shown in my shows. I just don't like chasing modern props to try to appease my audience's appetite for their own thin, ever-changing, pointless culture.

We're also making cartoons for a global market that will be rerun forever on some cable channel. Does some kid in India really want my characters to call each other "My Nizzle"? Why does a kid in Turkey want my characters to talk about cell phones and Ipods?

As a story-teller, we're trying to plug into that universal human quality that we all share. You know, the way it's funny to fart and wrong to lie no matter what culture you're entertaining. I can build shows around characters that lie and fart but I can't if they just talk about their Ipod."
––Doug TenNapel

On collaboration:
"More minds are always better than fewer. Unless you have too many."
––Mo Willems

On technology:
" I learned directing the digital aspect of the first season of Elmo’s World that those on the cutting edge get cut. The future is in the future. I work in the present tense, which is to say I try to be present and I’m always tense."
––Mo Willems

"I think the internet is a threat to some executives but not the good ones. The bad ones really couldn't recognize a quality show if it slapped them upside the head like a wet fish (now that's a great show idea!)...the good ones are usually a step ahead of the internet, or see through the niche fanatics that promote certain internet phenomena."
––Doug TenNapel

On preparing for a first pitch meeting:
"The best preparation is making sure you can explain your idea clearly and succinctly. You don't need a fancy preparation. Show just enough to make them see what you're seeing. The important thing is to make them feel
something."
––Carl H. Greenblatt

"I try to do as much art as I can . It’s the clearest and easiest way to express the characters for me. When I pitched Foster’s ,I filled a conference room at Cartoon Network with drawing s of the characters and the world and invited the executives to look around at it for a while . I wanted them to get curious about what they were looking at. Only after they were curious did I explain."
––Craig McCracken

All of the time goes into creating the thing, so coming up with the pitch materials is the shortest part of process for me. Many of the characters I pitch have been on my work desk for years so when I finally decide to pitch them I just bang out a page or two of written material and maybe do three to five pages of art.
––Doug TenNapel

What is your take on the role of pitch bibles?
"Honestly I don’t like pitch bibles. I feel they don’t reveal the most important aspect of making a cartoons: execution. You can have the most network-friendly bible in the world but If you don’t have the talent/skills to pull off what you’ve written it’s a moot point."
––Craig McCracken

"Usually I'll type up the pitch in a few days and do little sketches and doodles directly on the printed page. It's not very professional but it forces the executives to consider the visual as they read the material. Shows end up on a screen and there are no words to read in the final form so
it seems odd to have the pitch written in some dry format that is usually only written because the language of Hollywood is the word on the page.

I think overworking a Bible is a bad move. This doesn't apply to everyone because I've seen some incredibly tight bibles sitting on the desk of some pitch executives. They have full color, textured, hard-covers and seventy-five pages of final art and written material. They look good on a desk.

I think most executives know a good idea when they see one and aren't often fooled by impressive type-setting and printing. It really isn't their job to admire the length of a Bible, or even the depth for that matter."
––Doug TenNapel

On maintaining your vision while remaining open to network notes:
"If you aren't flexible, your show will never get made or worse, survive once it's on the air. It's important to be confident in your idea, but to realize which changes won't affect the core and which will changes will alter it from what you want. It's hard to set your ego aside, but I always tell myself there's more than one good solution to any problem, and good ideas can come from anyone. However, most development execs want to justify their jobs and usually they feel they have to make comments to do so. If you blatantly disregard their comments, they won't want to work with you. If you change everything they ask you to, you'll seem like a creator who doesn't know what he want his show to be. Find the balance. Most of their comments are pointless, but think about the root of why they want to change something. Find an answer to the change that makes you both happy."
––Carl H. Greenblatt

On pitching style:
"I have a ton of energy, but it’s very controlled. This is important because you’ve got to communicate that energy and excitement to the people you’re pitching to. If they don’t feel you’re excited about it, then they won’t be. Also, I bring everything I think I need to answer the many questions of the people (or clients) I will be pitching to: written material, drawings, pictures, videos, whatever it will take to get my point across.

Remember, just because you’ve been living with an idea for a year or so (maybe a shorter or longer time) doesn’t mean that the client has. They are blank slates and you will have approximately 10 minutes to fill their heads with just as much stuff as you have in yours. You have to have your pitch down pat. Have a beginning, middle and end.

Answer their questions as best as you can. You may think you have every question answered – which is good – but I can guarantee you they are going to ask you something you hadn’t even thought of. Not that this is a bad thing. On the contrary, it actually adds to the collaborative process and makes the client feel involved. But having them throw you a curve ball may make you nervous. Don’t be. If you have your pitch well thought out and the foundations of your story down, unexpected questions won’t throw you. You’ll be able to come up with a solution easily, or adjust your idea slightly to fit their ideas in."
––Butch Hartman

On the importance of building healthy relationships with executives:
"I build friendships based on who people are as people. Their position doesn’t impress me. However, that being said, it is vitally important to maintain healthy working relationships with execs because they’re the ones who can say “yes” or “no” to your project. Just be yourself and be open to their thoughts and suggestions, no matter how much you may or may not agree or disagree. Remember: you’re not always right. But neither are they. And, if everyone can work together and drop the egos for a second, a great project will be made that everyone can benefit from."
––Butch Hartman

On managing the emotional rollercoaster inherent in the pitching process:
"Emotion has nothing to do with it. If you make TV, this is your job and you realize you’re in it for the long run. "
––Mo Willems

On what you would change about network development if you were able?
"Sure, I’d make it more creator driven, I’d give crews more time, and everyone would get a pony. Actually, if every member of the crew got a small piece of the back-end, you’d have more harmonious and driven teams, but you’ve got a better chance of giving everyone a pony."
––Mo Willems

"I would fire every mid-level anything and only have network heads take pitches. When I brought Earthworm Jim to Universal I pitched to Sid Seidenberg himself! No junior execs, no assistants! I didn't even have an agent at the time. He looked across the conference room table and said, "We'll do thirteen episodes. Now I have to meet with junior executive 1, 2 and 3 then the head of production gets permission from the Chief blah blah to do a 30 second flash cartoon...two years later I'm at where Sid Seidenberg had me in twenty minutes. Things aren't getting better. Most networks know this. Their audience shares are shrinking and even the bigger networks are abandoning simple principles for inexpensive gimmicks thinking story-telling has changed. It hasn't. The human condition hasn't changed in 60 years and it will take another 60 years for most people to realize that."
––Doug TenNapel