Pitch Jam: Three Great Pitches

The second Pitch Jam is underway, and I’ve previously written advice on how to craft a great pitch. Of course, we’ve all heard the advice “show, don’t tell” – and so I thought it best to reprint some of the best pitches I’ve received at Five out of Ten and explain why I chose them for publication. Although I think they explain themselves! Click the author’s name to get the issue in question.

Oscar Strik – Isolation (#4: Storytellers)

Oscar sent me a Powerpoint presentation as a pitch. You’d think this would be the worst idea ever, but it really helped convey the atmosphere of his article and even influenced the design.

Of course, Powerpoint or not (maybe it was an InDesign document?), it’s an excellent pitch. It respects my time by nailing the theme in the first paragraph, finishing the outline in the first page and going into more detail in the others. It talks about Dear Esther and Proteus in a unique way, and I hadn’t even heard of Miasmata when I read the pitch.

Having said all this: please don’t send me any more presentations. It was a lovely one-off surprise.

A Dead Woman: Aeris, Silence, and Thanatos in Final Fantasy VII

My article will deconstruct the role of Aeris in Final Fantasy VII, a long standing fan favourite of the series because of the purported emotional impact of her death scene. However, I will posit that Aeris’ real importance is a fetishized dead body and as a representative of a colonized and extinct race.

I plan on briefly outlining the lack of importance of Aeris’s character to the story as a means to reiterate how she functions on a symbolic and bodily level within Final Fantasy VII’s narrative, which restricts her character to two veins of story: the first being romance with Cloud, and the second being her function as the last remaining member of a dead race.

Aeris is introduced as possible sexual partner for Cloud, grounding her in romantic and sexual possibilities. Even if a player doesn’t favour her as love interest, Aeris shows active interest in Cloud and functions as a member of a love triangle. However, as the narrative unfolds and her unsuitability for Cloud becomes clear, her body is then used as the site of contention between Cloud and Sephiroth as the narrative falls into the familiar cliché of “suffering woman helps hero mature emotionally.” Aeris’ dead body doubly eroticized in death as she is penetrated by Sephiroth. He then promptly kills her in a performative act, right in front of Cloud, underscoring Aeris’ body is the site of struggle between the two male main characters. Sephiroth fetishizes her geneology (Cetra), as he too longs to be connected to them, and Aeris stands in his way. However, Aeris poses no actual threat except by sheer virtue of her special lineage. Her symbolic body is the only actual threat she poses. Her murder at the hands of Sephiroth also re-enacts the obliteration of the Cetra race at the hands of Jenova, reinscribing the theme of dominance and extinction through Aeris’ body.

By extension, as Aeris is the last remaining member of the race, so too are the Cetra’s “natural” claim to the earth a site of struggle. Their physical bodies as represented by the lifestream and their greatest value actually lies in their death. Like Aeris, they are dead and inert, without a voice. In life they were unable to protect the planet but, after being used by Cloud, Cetra extinction finds meaning. Aeris’ alignment with the hero, Cloud, legitimizes his heroic quest and makes him the rightful protector of the planet. His ability to use the lifestream, the souls of dead Cetra, is what announces his heroism. Ultimately, Aeris and the Cetra perform as victims at the hands of the villain and as tools, linking Cloud to his rightful place and protector, rather than as functional characters. Aeris’ voice, in death, is appropriated by Cloud and her value becomes death.

This is a necessarily long pitch by Meg on a complex topic. I’m not an English graduate, and I’ve never played Final Fantasy VII, but I don’t need either of those things to know that the author knows what they’re talking about. The key point is that it’s all sold in the first two sentences – the word “purported” gets my attention, and by the end of the second sentence I’m already nodding enthusiastically.

If you win over the editor in the first sentence, they’ll read the whole thing.

I am really proud that we can publish deep, challenging pieces like A Mere Body that you can learn so much from, whether you’re editing the essay or reading the finished product.

Becoming the jungle

Failure is hard-coded into satire

Far Cry 3 and Bioshock Infinite have both been criticised for their failure to undermine the discourse of violence and difference. The same criticism has been levelled at Hotline Miami, Spec Ops: The Line and countless other games that attempt to bring mature storytelling to exercises in elaborate, high-resolution whack-a-mole.

It is important to call out the ways that media support the evils that they purport to satirise. No amount of self-awareness can change the fact of privilege, and a self-referential white man with a gun is still acting out racialised and sexist violence.

Looking back beyond video games to cinema, satirical or self-aware depictions of privileged violence seem to hold a central role in media that serve as important artefacts in the reproduction of masculinity. From Apocalypse Now to Fight Club, cinema often makes a spectacle out of the arrogance of horror. This technique carries over into narrative FPS games.

Maybe failure is an integral part of what makes cinematic satire what it is, in film and in games. Despite our ambivalence, and no matter how clearly we perceive the ugly reality of what is happening, we all become the jungle in the end. Satire must fail, just as its protagonist fails. The forces of privilege that it opposes are stronger than any individual mainstream cultural work, stronger than any individual white man with a gun.

In my blog post ‘The Art of Pitching’ I talk about the need for a strong portfolio. Whenever I searched my inbox for Zoya’s original pitch, the first email I have is a receipt for his book Dreamcast Worlds. It’s really flattering when one of your favourite writers pitches to you, but it’s even better when the pitch is outstanding. Even the best writers need great ideas to turn into features.

Even if I’d never encountered Zoya’s work, the pitch gets to the point (do you see the theme emerging here?) and rather than sliding into boring handwringing about videogame violence, it issues a challenge to call out the failures of satire in Far Cry 3 and BioShock Infinite. It’s a unique angle on popular games, which is something I always enjoy (see also Jordan Webber’s piece on personal identity in BioShock Infinite in #7: Power).

This pitch doesn’t just posit a question: it constructs the entire argument of this essay. I can commission this because I have confidence that the author knows what they’re talking about and they will be able to deliver. If your pitch contains a question, you should know the answer before you send it!

Good pitches ask interesting questions. Great pitches have the answers.