Emma Millions has been a writer, development producer and screenwriting educator for over 30 years. She started her career in kids' TV by hassling a producer at a launch event until he took her printed script. She now teaches at the London Screenwriters Festival, Met Film School and John Yorke Story, and has been a BBC One factual producer. In this Mriia Mentors session she gave the most practical guide to pitching, pitch decks, finding the right format, and navigating the UK industry that this programme has heard.
"The hook of The Sopranos is: Tony Soprano goes to therapy. That is not what the show is about at all. But that is why you start watching it."
Emma always wrote. Since she was a child she wrote, then found out people paid you to do it, and decided to do that. Over 30 years ago she was working at a TV production company on factual TV and was sent to cover various events in London. One of those events was the launch of a kids' TV show. She took her camera, found the person who was hiring writers, and hassled him until he took one of her samples. In those days that was an actual printed script. A physical printout, not an email.
She was hired partly because the whole writing team was male and they needed a woman. She is direct about this without dwelling on it: it was like that then, it is still somewhat like that now, though better. What matters more to her is the other thing she took from that first job: some of those contacts are still her contacts 30 years later.
"Hold on to your contacts. They are going to be the people who know what job is coming up and who you can talk to to get hired. Some of the people I met on my first job are still my contacts now, 30 years later."
Emma MillionsThe pathway for getting into UK television 30 years ago was clearer than it is now: there was a definite route starting with kids' TV. That route has become more complicated and more competitive. But the fundamentals have not changed: research the right person to contact, create a sample to prove you can do the work, be patient with rejection, and get into the world by whatever means available.
The most important pitching lesson Emma gave came from watching her students at the London Screenwriters Festival. The formal pitch sessions were useful. But the students who made the best contacts, who came away with the most business cards and follow-up emails, were the ones who stayed in the bar afterwards. Informal settings, not the scheduled room.
This is a problem for writers, she says, because writers tend to be introverts. She includes herself: she is a massive introvert who would prefer to go home, but she has learned that staying in the room and having those conversations is part of the job. You show an interest in the other person first. You do not corner someone and immediately go into your pitch.
"Your verbal pitch has to be as short as possible. And it has to contain the hook. The hook of The Sopranos is: Italian-American mobster in New Jersey goes to therapy. That is not what it is about. But that is why you start watching it."
Emma MillionsShe described a student whose idea she found genuinely exciting: a show about lesbian pirates in the 16th century. At every pitch opportunity the student left that detail out, because she felt the show was about so much more than that. Emma's point: that is exactly the detail that makes someone open the deck. It is the hook. The thing you tell your friends to get them to watch. Once they are watching, they discover everything else. But the hook is what gets them in the door.
The hook is not what your story is really about. It is the thing that makes someone want to find out what it is really about. Find it, name it clearly, and never leave it out of the pitch.
Going past the point where the other person is still engaged kills the relationship you were building. If they start looking past you, you have lost them. And they will not respond to your follow-up email either.
At festivals and industry events, the informal conversations after the formal sessions are where the real connections happen. Show up for them even if every instinct says to go home.
Research who will be at events before you go. Have a real reason to speak to each person. Show that you know their work and care about it, before you say anything about yours.
The biggest problem Emma sees in pitch decks is too much information. She is emphatic about this. When someone opens your deck on their phone in a cab between meetings, they have seconds. If the front page is crowded or confusing, they close it and tell themselves they will read it later. They will not.
Think of it as a Netflix thumbnail. When you scroll through Netflix looking for something to watch, the image is what makes you click. High-quality image, right font for the genre, nothing else crowding it. One image that captures the feeling of what you are selling.
Short, functional, containing the hook. If they are drawn in by the front page and then get two lines that intrigue them further, they will keep reading. Too much information on page two kills that momentum.
You are not explaining the entire story. You are giving just enough to make them want to ask for more. If they feel they already have the whole story, there is no reason to meet you or read the script.
Emma keeps a folder of fonts categorised by genre: horror fonts, comedy fonts, drama fonts. If someone opens your horror pitch and sees a comedy font, they are confused before reading a word. The visual tone of the deck has to tell the same story as the content. She mentioned Midsommar as an example of a horror that used such soft, flowery imagery and fonts that audiences unfamiliar with Ari Aster might have missed that it was horror at all.
Most people know when they are looking at an AI image. You do not know whether the person receiving your deck hates AI, is neutral, or loves it. The risk is not worth it. Use Shot Deck or similar services to find real images that capture the vibe of your story. If you do use AI, add your own design elements on top so it feels intentional and personal.
If you want to convey what a character looks like, find an image from a film that captures the feeling, not a headshot. A headshot implies casting. A film still implies character. These are very different things to the person reading your deck.
Emma describes development producer as the best job in the world: a regular salary, which writers rarely have, and you get paid to find and develop ideas. Inside a production company, every company has a slate of projects at different stages of development, and that slate reflects what the company wants to be known for. Some companies are exclusively horror. Some exclusively comedy. Some are only interested in drama based on true stories.
Right now in the UK, she says, many drama companies are looking for what she calls the ordinary-person hero: real-life stories of a small person fighting a large institutional wrong. Mr Bates vs The Post Office was the defining example. An ITV drama broadcast in January 2024 about the Post Office Horizon IT scandal, in which hundreds of subpostmasters were wrongly prosecuted for theft caused by faulty software. It became a national phenomenon, watched by over 13 million people, and triggered real political change, with Prime Minister Rishi Sunak announcing new legislation within days of broadcast. That kind of story is now what many companies are actively seeking.
"Everything is cyclical. The massive fantasy epic will come back. But right now it is not going to sell. You might have the best Lord of the Rings-style series ever written. Put it in your folder of old ideas and wait. It will come back around."
Emma MillionsDevelopment producers watch enormous amounts of film and TV and watch it while asking why. Why is this working? Why did that fail? What does the success of The Traitors tell us about what audiences want right now? Read the trade press alongside watching the work.
A few years ago the Blacklist's annual top 30 unproduced screenplays were dominated by comedy. Now they are dominated by thriller. Watching these shifts is part of the job. It means knowing where your work sits and when its moment might arrive.
Getting something ready, packaged, out to industry, financed, developed through notes, to the right channel. It all takes time, and in that time another show almost identical to yours will often appear. That is not a reason to give up. Wait for the cycle to turn back.
Being too many things as a writer makes it harder for the industry to know where to put you. Emma has a multi-genre career and made it work, but acknowledges it is harder now. Knowing your strengths and natural lane, while staying flexible when genres go quiet, is more sustainable.
Emma gave a whole hour's talk on this at the London Screenwriters Festival. She has developed an instinct for it from years of being pitched at by students and writers. But she also offers a clear analytical framework.
"A feature film has a limited story. There is a beginning, middle and end. A TV series needs constant story generators. If the story resolves, it is a feature. If the world can keep generating story indefinitely, it is a series."
Emma MillionsLiar Liar. A lawyer neglecting his family. His son makes a wish. He cannot lie. He learns his lesson. The story resolves. There is no Liar Liar 2 for a reason. Once the character has changed, the story is over. Feature films are built around that arc.
An Italian-American mobster in New Jersey with his family, his therapist and his criminal associates. That world generates story for years. The Sopranos ran for six seasons. The situation is never resolved because it is not designed to resolve. That is the fundamental difference.
A practical test she was given and passes on: if your story has five or more characters who each have their own storylines running independently, you probably have a TV series. Feature films have multiple characters but they all serve the main plot.
She has told many writers their idea is a series when they wanted a feature, and vice versa. They resist. And then they find out the hard way, spending years trying to make something work in the wrong format. Trust the instinct of someone who is pitched at constantly.
Commissioners and development producers respond to writers who have a personal connection to their material. Not because the story has to be autobiographical, but because the emotional truth has to come from somewhere real.
She used Vince Gilligan and Breaking Bad as the example. Gilligan was almost certainly never a chemistry teacher who cooked methamphetamine. But he was a father who understood the terror of not being able to provide for his children. That is the essence of why Walter White makes the choice he makes. The specifics are invented. The emotional core is real, and that is what makes it resonate.
"The best pitches I have ever heard started with: when I was going through my divorce, this is what happened to me. And the story they pitched was completely different. But I knew immediately what kind of emotional truth was going to be in it."
Emma MillionsA writer she is currently working with has a story about an older childless couple who make a wish on a magic Christmas cracker and their dog turns into a human child. Completely bonkers. But the writer and his wife know exactly what it feels like to have wished for a child that never came, and that grief is underneath every scene. Emma understood the story immediately because of that. The mad premise is what makes people want to watch. The real human feeling underneath is what makes them stay.
Emma used to get frustrated with the days when nothing came out. She would sit in front of her computer and force herself to write, and what she wrote was not good and did not solve whatever problem she was stuck on. It took time to understand that those days are part of the process, not a failure of it.
"If you are not having a meltdown at some point during a project, something has gone wrong. The project is probably not good enough for your time. The meltdown means you care. Trust it."
Emma MillionsTwo weeks of watching related material without writing a word is not procrastination if it is what your brain needs. Some people get their breakthrough in the shower. Some when they clean the house. Forcing writing when it is not ready produces writing that is not good.
The worst advice she ever received was: just get it written, get it out there. Never do this. Once someone has read a mediocre first draft, that is all they will ever see. Sit on a finished draft for two to four weeks, then go back and read it fresh. You will see exactly what needs to change.
Other writers are the best source of script feedback before anything goes to industry. They can see what is working without the relationship politics that make friends and family unreliable readers. Set it up as a genuine exchange: you read theirs, they read yours.
There are many screenwriting books and some are a waste of money. The Hero's Journey and Save the Cat are classics. John Yorke is recommended for TV. The Blacklist publishes its annual top 30 unproduced screenplays with loglines, which is a reliable way to track trends. Scott Myers on X posts useful industry data on spec script sales.
Once the pitch deck is ready and the script is in good shape, start with research: find films and TV shows similar to yours or that you love, get the producers' names from the credits, find their emails. Send a very short, very polite email asking if you can send the pitch. Reference something of theirs you genuinely liked. Do not attach anything to the first email.
Producers inside a production company already have a full slate and a full inbox. Independent producers are more likely to be looking for their next project and more likely to respond.
Send a short message describing what you have, reference something of theirs you genuinely liked, and ask if they would be interested in seeing it. This is both more professional and more likely to get a response.
Never Monday morning, when inboxes are buried from the weekend. Never Friday afternoon. Thursday they are thinking about wrapping the week. The sweet spot is Tuesday to Wednesday, when people are in the rhythm of the week and actually processing email.
It is about timing, trends, the commissioner's mood, their slate, what they already have. There are so many factors that have nothing to do with the quality of your work. Do not take it personally. Move on. There is no value in crying about it.
"If somebody says out loud that they will always read your script, take them up on it. If they are just saying it to look good, call them out on it. Say: you told me you would always look at my script. Here is my script."
Emma MillionsFree live Q&A sessions with screenwriters, producers and industry professionals from the UK, US, Spain and Germany. Open to Ukrainian filmmakers and writers at any stage of their career.
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