This might be the most important column you'll ever read. And I'll tell you why in one thousand words or less.

Pitching a project is a lot like picking someone up at the bar. Go to a pub one night and often enough, there will be members of the opposite sex there. Logic dictates that if you say the right things, you might get a number or, even better, escort one home. It isn't hard: Find the right approach, a good line, and assuming you're a sweet talker, move someplace private.

In the end, that's what every pitching writer wants to do - get into bed with an editor (metaphorically speaking, of course). Make a deal. Score that contract.

The way to do that is to perfect your pitch.

Pitching forces writers to do the one thing they cannot stand: be brief. An editor's attention is fleeting - soundbytes and open-ended statements are great for capturing readers' interest, but for the poor soul sifting through hundreds of pitches a month, brevity is the soul of wit.

And I'm not talking about packaging the pitch - that's a whole different ball of wax. Last week's guest columnist Larry Young relates a story in his book, True Facts about two writers that pitched a project in sealed envelopes (synopsis, art, etc.) with pre-designated labels at conventions. Inspired, I did the same with my upcoming book and immediately found a publisher. Did the gimmick win over the publisher? No. It got his attention, sure, but the concise, organized pitch inside helped me score. Same thing with job interviews - as a graphic designer I've heard dozens of innovative methods of designing one's resume in order to procure a job. But as a wise man once said, you can put a pretty hat on a piece of shit, but in the end it's still a piece of shit.

Craft your pitch. Make it solid. Present the story or concept clearly, completely and efficiently. The hook will get the editor to continue down the page but the rest of the pitch will get him to buy it.

Often, writers send me pitches, asking for advice. Some have done their homework and I'll be able to spend my time critiquing the story or idea. More often, though, I reply to pitches that contain phrases such as "And what happens next is even more astounding!" with "You have no idea what happens next, do you?"

Two years ago, I went on the worst date of my life. The girl was unresponsive, and for a talkative guy like me, it was like pulling wisdom teeth in a five-star restaurant. I asked what she liked to do and she responded with, "I read." When I parried with "What do you read?" she dodged with "Books." Why the hell would I go on a second date? Who wants to do that kind of work and pay for it?

Ladies and gentlemen, that girl is you.

Don't make an editor work for a second date. There are dozens of writers looking for the same kind of commitment you are, many dying to volunteer the fact that they enjoy reading Chabon and King and if given a chance, could write books just like them.

Four years back, I visited the office of an editor who I admired and wished to work with. The conversation was supposed to be a "state-of-the-union" sort of thing until he turned to me and said, "Pitch me." What do you do when put on the spot like that? How do you shoot out a concise pitch on the fly?

A writing teacher once gave me the following advice: Write your pitches out before hand. Make them concise. Record them on cassette and listen to them - try to get them down to three minutes, five if you're pushing it. Now find someone who doesn't give a shit - someone who isn't related or a close friend - and pitch them your story. If you keep their attention and leave them wanting more, you've done your job and are ready to pitch. If they got bored, correct grammar, point out plot holes or that the story's been done, go back and rework.

Carry your pitches in your head like a gunfighter, ready to draw if the shit goes down. You never know when you might meet an editor and you never know where you might meet an interested party.

So... the effective, killer pitch. Here's my opinion, take it or leave it, but it's worked for me:

Begin with the hook and present a high concept. Then tell your story. Start at the beginning, fill in the middle and conclude at the end. No tangents along the way. Present your pitch in the same tone or manner that the story will be told in and tell it like that all the way through. The editor wants the story - he wants to know that you've thought it through, and that the pieces are in place. Often times, I insert dialogue, to give the editor a sense that I can write it. Perhaps I'll enclose some script pages to show that I know my caption from my voiceover. Art helps, and if you're pitching a series, an issue breakdown shows where you're going.

What you say and how is really up to you - it's your pitch, your style. My suggestion is that you present it in a way that the editor doesn't have to fill blanks in on his own... because he won't. He'll move to the next pitch.

Remember - you're courting, but you're also being courted. You want to sweet talk the editor into bed, but you also don't want him sitting across the bar from you, waiting for answer to questions he cares about. Be a tease, sure, but more importantly be honest and upfront. Get his attention. Then tell him what he wants to hear. All of it. Quickly, efficiently and completely.

One thousand words or less ought to do it.

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BIG POND is a collective column that begins with ideas and continues with opinions. Each column focuses in on my musings about writing for the comic book, film and television industry and then gives way to opinions on the week's topic by a diverse group of writers.

This week, we're joined once again in the pond by Brian Wood and Alex de Campi, writers who have recently helped me with some pitching issues of my own. Here are their thoughts on this week's topic:

Brian:"I think you covered the basics of what needs to be in a pitch, but I will stress the most important one, in my experience: tell the whole story. Tell how it ends, tell everything. It's not a teaser, or ad copy. Spell it all out, cut it open, spoil all the plot twists, explain exactly how the story unfolds. This is for the editor's eyes and he or she needs to know everything. Of course, this means that you, the writer, needs to have all that figured out in advance. That's the downside. You can't sell a project just based on a cool hook and some interesting characters, intending to flesh it out after the contracts are signed.

"I got a look at some Warren Ellis proposals many years ago, for Generation X when I was co-writing that with him, and for Global Frequency (I did the covers for it). They proved very useful, as I could see exactly what he wrote and how, and hopefully I could learn WHY these were excepted. I was looking for the magic formula. Warren writes a killer proposal. Lean, mean, fun and funny, and extremely efficient. Everything was there, and the thing was a page long. My most successful pitches were ones where I tried to apply what I learned from Warren.

"Of course, you can write the world's greatest proposal, but if its not what the editor needs right then, it won't matter. The best you can hope for in that scenario is better luck with your next one. I sent this one editor six pitches over the course of several months, and while he liked them all, they weren't good fits for any number of perfectly valid reason (not the right genre, too much like an already existing book they do, etc). I finally sent him one he liked, and his rejected pitches went to other publishers.

"My basic formula is as follows:

1. One or two sentence overview. This will have a sort of ad copy-ish feel. Attention grabber.

2. A short paragraph explaining what I just said in the first sentence, but more straighforward and with more information for the editor. I call this the Overview. This lays out the major events of the story, including the end, and any conflicts, choices, turning points, and twists contained therein.

3. A few short paragraphs explaining in broad strokes who the main characters are.

4. A few lines for any art or storytelling details I feel are important, as well as nuts-and-bolts stuff like page length, book format, stuff like that.

5. If its a miniseries, I'll write short paragraphs for each of the first 6 issues or so, not teasers, but mini-Overviews, so the editors knows what happens in each one.

6. If its an OGN, i'll do the same thing, but in outline form.

"Hopefully, the editor will then know exactly what my idea is, how I want it to look, and maybe even how I think it could be hyped to the public. In the meantime I've done all the hard work already, I've figured out the mechanics of the book. If it gets accepted, I'm good to go."

Alex: "A thousand words? Forget that. How many emails do you think an editor gets in a day? Pick a big number. Double it. Now you're closer to the truth. You have to respect the fact that editors are underpaid and vastly overworked. They do not want to read your unsolicited thousand-word email attachments.

"I'm in the lucky position right now of having long-standing relationships with four or five editors. If I want to pitch something to them, I send them an email asking if they're interested first. In the body of the email, I give them 200 words of high concept on the series. That's it. Because it's so short and in the body of the email, it's easy and quick for them to read, and they get back to me fast. If it's "no, sorry, we already have something like that in development", well then I've saved both of us time. I don't have to tame my five pages of illiterate un-punctuated brainspew into a proper pitch, and they don't have to read it. If it's "ooh yes, sounds interesting!" then when I do send the pitch, they are already in a positive frame of mind about it. Everybody wins.

"Most importantly, your first pitch to an editor is nothing but an opening salvo in a long-term conversation. Often it will take you three or more rejected pitches before you understand what the editor is really looking for. Listen to what the editor says, and learn from it. You must not get all bent out of shape if your masterpiece dream story gets dinged first-off. Chances are, it will. You're a writer. Go out to the pub, bitch to your friends about how nobody recognizes your genius, then go the fuck home and write something else. Good thing you're only sending these pitches as 200 word springboards, isn't it?

"In the 200 words, I don't really focus on plot. I give the Hollywood "It's X meets Y" - yes, I do consider this a tool of Satan, but unfortunately there's nothing better to give an editor a quick idea of what you're on about. There's an art to the "X meets Y", and it's usually in the unexpectedness of the mash-up. I then talk about story. Who my main character is, what their hopes and dreams are. What the big problem is that they face in the story, and how they - and only they - absolutely HAVE to solve it. I hint at how, despite overwhelming odds against, they may just be able to overcome it. I give them an idea of genre (or genres), and audience. Is it a gritty mature-readers noir? Is it a black comedy? Is it an all-ages sci-fi adventure?

"My biggest criticism of pitches I read is that many are all plot, and no story. Plot is what happens. Story is why, and how, it happens. You have probably thought up some wonderful plot details in your pitch, of which you are immensely and justifiably proud. Here's the stone cold truth: you shouldn't put most of them in your pitch. Spend your time making us fall in love with your main character. Be clear about who the villain is, and what their motivation is. Everything else is just plot gubbins.

"Some of you may not be lucky enough yet to have a list of friendly editors on the email address book. In this case, do you know anyone who has had work published? If so, ask them to introduce you to their editor. That won't get you published, but it will get your first email read. It's up to you to fuck it up from there.

"Do you need an artist attached? Sometimes. For DC, Marvel and all their subsidiaries, not really. For the French publishers, you don't - and as European artistic standards are very different from American ones, you are better off without an artist. Unless, of course, you're best mates with someone like Colin Wilson. Tokyopop, you don't need an artist. Again, until you know manga art and Tokyopop's preferences well, best not to go in with an artist. For publishers like Dark Horse, Image, IDW, SLG and of course Fantagraphics and Top Shelf, you do need an artist. Oni have matched people up with artists before, but I think they prefer if you come in with someone. However, if it's a choice between coming in with a mediocre artist or coming in with no artist at all, pitch without the artist. If pitching with an artist, make sure you know who pays page rates and who doesn't. Discuss with your artist whether he or she is willing to work for back-end only, without a page rate. If not, that knocks out Image and a few others on that list.

"For all my pitches except SMOKE, I pitched without an artist. Once the editor had bought into the pitch, we worked together to find an artist we both liked, while we developed the story toward a final greenlight. In most cases, I eventually found the artist, not the editor. How did I do this? Via recommendations of other artists I was working with; by meeting people at conventions; through communities like LiveJournal and Delphi. The artists were a lot keener to come on board and spend time drawing samples, because they knew the editor already liked the pitch. I have only once paid an artist to do samples for me. I gave her £250, she gave excuse after excuse and never did the work. I found another artist and two years later she still hasn't paid me back. Obviously, I don't recommend this. Or her.

"A few other stupid, commonsense things bear repeating. For the love of God, spellcheck. If your grammar is the least bit dodgy, ask someone to help you proofread. If I open a pitch and the spelling and grammar are poor, it does not pass Go, it does not collect $200. It goes straight into the bin.

"Also, research the companies you are pitching. Do they already have a series similar to the one you are pitching? Vertigo are probably not going to want your pitch for a cynical, mystery-solving English magician. Neither will Tokyopop, but for different reasons - they prefer their lead characters to be teenagers. Sending Top Shelf a superhero pitch? Maybe not the best use of your resources, or Chris Staros' time. A rifle approach is always better than a shotgun approach. When in doubt, email the publisher first and ask, before pitch-bombing them. Every editor I have met has been hardworking, conscientious, and polite. Treat them kindly, and they will treat you kindly."

The column doesn't end there, though - head on over to the The Big Pond forum at the Scryptic Forums and add your opinion to the Pond! Join the collective column and talk writing with myself, this week's contributors and the rest of the Scryptic writers.

My thanks to Brian and Alex for agreeing to jump back in this week!

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Neil Kleid won the Xeric grant for NINETY CANDLES, an experimental graphic novella, and his first graphic novel, BROWNSVILLE, (with artist Jake Allen) debuts from NBM Publishing in 2005. A graphic designer by day, Neil harbors notions of writing full time. Weep for him.

Brian Wood is the award-winning creator of CHANNEL ZERO and The Couriers family of graphic novels, as well as the series DEMO with artist Becky Cloonan. Look for his original graphic novel THE TOURIST in April.

Alex de Campi writes comics and screenplays. In May, her noir miniseries SMOKE (drawn by Igor Kordey) debuts from IDW. Her modernization of Goethe's FAUST, fully painted by Seb Camagajevac, will come out late in the year. She also co-edits the 'zine COMMERCIAL SUICIDE and is currently working on DEFECTIVE COMICS, a self-published digest of her shorter stories. Meanwhile, she has been commissioned to write a supernatural thriller by Chocolate Chilli Films, an independent UK producer.