Breakfast with Sharks Read online

  1. Be knowledgeable but not pushy about the industry. Not long ago I had a script going out wide (sent to dozens of potential buyers). I submitted the following list to my agent:

  20 producers who I felt might welcome the submission

  6 execs who were fans of my work

  10 directors whom I considered right for the material, several of whom had active production companies

  5 actors who developed their own material and might be willing to buy my spec

  Result: My agent was impressed that I had taken the time to research the market and compile the list.

  2. Be productive and prolific. Agents love self-starters who don’t need to be cajoled into finishing and polishing their work.

  3. Always write on the side. Even if you are a writer with a lucrative studio assignment, you are still essentially a gun for hire. Agents like to be surprised with spec scripts that capture your true ability and aesthetic.

  4. Be professional. Follow up introductory meetings with a thank-you note. Send a copy to your agent of any correspondence going to the studio or production company. Don’t force your agent to clean up your messes. For example, I know of a writer/producer who didn’t like the amount of money the studio was offering for last-minute changes on her green-lighted project. The writer instructed her agent to demand a certain amount of money, then hopped on a plane for Las Vegas. Careers were on the line, so the studio execs caved, but the writer earned the enmity of many people who vowed never to work with her again.

  5. Be a good listener and don’t tell tales out of school. Schadenfreude is a sport in Hollywood. To paraphrase Oscar Wilde, it’s not enough for you to succeed but your friends have to fail in the process. Agents are excellent at sizing people up, so will quickly note whether or not you, too, have this tendency. If you do, the agent will automatically devalue in their minds whatever comes out of your mouth regarding the business.

  HOW TO BECOME A CLIENT

  Most agents have an entire spectrum of clients ranging from new to very experienced. At the bottom rung, most agents have as many as a couple of dozen “pocket clients” for whom they expend minimal energy. Such clients are beginning writers who have no track record but who show promise, often in the form of a gritty, compelling screenplay that is tough to market. Becoming a pocket client is relatively easy: Place well (quarter finalist or better) in a major competition, and an agent will be inclined to read your work. Plow through the Hollywood Agents & Managers Directory (www.hcdonline.com), and then cast your net wide enough, and you will make a connection. Querying an up-and-coming entertainment lawyer is another way to go. Spec sale news in trade publications like Variety and The Hollywood Reporter usually include the lawyers who brokered the deal. Lawyers of a certain level are looking to build their client base, and so will develop and matchmake relationships with both writers and agents. Any fledgling producer with some standing in the business, or a low-level exec you tricked into reading your work, can also provide an entrée to an agent (provided they like your work). Simply ask if they can recommend an agent they like. Most will gladly offer this in lieu of actually giving you work. Still another way is via your writing community. Put six writers in a room and one of them is bound to have a line on an agent. If all of these scenarios fail you, no writer should be without K. Callan’s book, The Script Is Finished, Now What Do I Do? which interviews, evaluates, and gives access to hundreds of agents at dozens of agencies. The key to all of these scenarios is to submit work that is solid. One agent I talked with put it succinctly: “Write something we can sell.”

  BEING A POCKET CLIENT AND RISING ABOVE THAT STATUS

  To that end, an agent will expend some energy during the pocket-client honeymoon period, which typically lasts from thirty days to six months. Said energy comes in the form of notes on a draft, returned phone calls, and maybe a few submissions sent out to strategically targeted production companies. During this special time, the writer feels a tremendous rush that comes from a bit of security. You have an agent. All is right with the world. However, you should be aware of the insidious, Dorian Gray time element that quickly creeps into this arrangement. If a pocket client writes an undeniably marketable script, sells a project, or lands an assignment (tough but not impossible to do), he or she becomes a full-fledged client entitled to more of the agent’s time and attention. If not, there’s a remote-control-operated trapdoor under the chair for writers like you. In my own case, the agent in question was a husky-voiced, chain-smoking femme fatale who, in six months, went from “Work with me and I will be relentless for you” to quoting Public Enemy lyrics, as in, “I can’t do nothin’ for you, man. No-thing.” Boy, did it ever hurt when I fell off that particular teacup ride. Agents are notorious for going from “can’t miss” to “can’t rep” in a matter of weeks. As said, acquiring an agent is relatively easy, but keeping one is hard. In agents’ defense, developing careers for beginning writers requires a tremendous amount of time and effort. “Like pulling an engine up from the bottom of the ocean,” is how an agent once described the process. Therefore, most established agents opt out of this heavy lifting. “Love your work; catch you at the next level,” they say. It will then hit you that responsibility for jump-starting a career rests squarely on your shoulders. This is a painful admission, but really right where things should be. So expect to change agent partners often during the early period of your career.

  Generally, you must option a spec or get an assignment somewhere to survive the pocket-client gauntlet. Remember that agents are good at promising the moon, but they only get 10 percent of the cheese. Keep working and you’ll discover that the balance between high expectations and cruel reality shifts over the course of your career. That’s where what you can expect from your agent also changes. When the commission checks you write to an agency start paying their rent or for their Dead Sea salt body-scrub spa fees for an entire month, they’d better pay attention to you—or you need a new agent. Writers at this middle level have more cushion than their pocket brethren, but these scribes are vulnerable if they hit a dry patch—like a pair of specs that fail to find a home, or being fired from an assignment or two.

  THE ROLE OF QUERY LETTERS AND QUERY CALLS

  One-page query letters are the way to approach agents and producers about the project(s) you have to offer: “I wrote X—would you like to read it?” A writer will gain the necessary contact information, usually from the Hollywood Creative Directory, then “query” the target. Sometimes this tactic works out fine; however, Hollywood is a phone and face culture. By that I mean that most business is conducted on the fly via telephone and in face-to-face meetings around town. In fact, many agents make it a point to visit every studio in town on a weekly basis. Although the industry is built on paper in the form of scripts, few people have time to read anything unless they absolutely have to, which is why I’m not a big fan of traditional query letters. Borrowing the logic of What Color Is Your Parachute?, most query letters are too impersonal and too random and too many people send them, making the odds for success very remote. Too few agents (and producers) feel obligated to respond, so most query letters pile up like snowdrifts on a desk and never get past the assistant. What follows are some other options for the traditional query letter.

  E-mail. Because e-mail can be read and responded to on the fly in a more informal manner, written queries sent via the Internet garner better results than postal mail, particularly among younger agents. While even a form letter response requires a signature, stationery and printing, envelope and stamp, an exec can simply respond to an e-mail with “Send it.” or “Not for us. Thanks.” The key to calling attention is a compelling subject line like “Jim Smith, Disney, Referral,” “Chesterfield Script Competition Finalist,” or “New Teen Horror Spec.”

  Phone queries. If you do enough research to target the correct company and individual, phone queries have a much higher success rate than most written queries. Use your Hollywood Agents and Managers Directory, and simpl
y call the agent on the phone. Most agents will take note of the initiative involved, while the voice-to-voice interaction will allow you to take advantage of the famous Hollywood aversion for confrontation.

  FORM FOR ALL QUERIES

  The major rule of thumb for good query calls and letters is to avoid gimmicks. You may think it’s the height of cleverness to mail your screenplay along with a shoe and a punchline about “getting a foot in the door,” but such a package will attract more attention from the security department than from an executive. Likewise, being too “cute” will miss the bus for most agents, who only have about ten seconds to figure out the essence of what you want from them. Besides the fact that all agents have very little free time, the very nature of screenwriting means that you must master the task of telling a complete story in a predetermined time limit of usually 110 to 120 minutes. So it’s imperative to avoid telling your life story and the details of your difficult birth in a query. Get to the point and be straightforward. Limit your query to one project per letter or call at a time. Listing all fourteen projects you have going will overwhelm and confuse the agent, while raising the question, “If you’re so gifted and prolific, why haven’t I heard of you?”

  Your query should follow the form below:

  Why are you contacting this agent?

  What material do you have for consideration?

  Your credits or qualifications as a writer.

  Your contact information.

  SAMPLE QUERY

  Lee Knight

  2673 Ellis Lane

  San Diego, CA

  (619) 555–1234

  January 7, 2003

  Steve Frost

  Agent

  X-Factor Writers & Artists

  8442 Wilshire Boulevard

  Beverly Hills, CA 90212

  Dear Mr. Frost:

  I have just completed a teen romantic comedy called Prom Date. Per your most recent spec sale of Jenna Tandy’s Gym Class discussed in last month’s Variety, I believe that my script may be right for your representation.

  Three high school couples anticipate the perfect prom, but all three relationships break up just days before the big night. A mad scramble to mend fences or find a new date ensues.

  If interested, I will be happy to sign your standard release form and submit Prom Date for your perusal. In advance, thanks very much for your time and consideration.

  Best regards,

  Lee Knight

  KEEPING AN AGENT

  Keeping agents is the single biggest issue on many screenwriters’ minds. That’s because agents are fundamental to moving up the creative ladder since they can give you access to bigger players and better projects in the industry. An agent hopes that with perseverance and luck, inevitably a prospective client will find the right relationship. The key is strategic planning and taking responsibility for your own career, with the help of your agent. New writers are consumed with how best to get this year’s top spec seller at ICM to sign them (generally, you can’t). Midlevel scriptors worry that their agency isn’t 100 percent behind their latest work, or haven’t pushed hard enough for that high-profile studio assignment. For them, someone else’s agent is always working harder for writers who are clearly less talented. And upper-echelon screenwriters? This group is consumed with cigars and floral arrangements—as in which bouquet or burl-wood humidor to send that agent who is “terrific at the little things and more like a close friend.” The irony here is that the agents involved in each scenario may be one and the same person. In other words, depending on a writer’s place in the pecking order, the same agent can be unattainable, not diligent enough, and a conscientious career partner who can change your life. So where does the discrepancy of performance come from? A key factor is the client roster, of course, and the vibe you get from the agent. A guy outside the loop has to hustle ten times as much. You should talk to existing clients, find out what projects they’re doing, how much money they’ve made, and how long they’ve been with the agent.

  HOW TO AVOID STICKING WITH A BAD AGENT

  Working writers worry less about relationships with any agents than about having the right relationship. So what should you look for in an agent? In a word, access. In addition to the ability to recognize talent, a good agent is “plugged in.” Before signing, make sure the agent has key relationships within your potential market. Find out by requesting to talk to current clients. Most will feel an overpowering compulsion to unburden themselves and give you the straight scoop. Prior to signing with my present agency, I talked with three clients. Once satisfied, I signed. That relationship lasted more than three years. That’s a long time in the agent world. In addition to access, a good agent or manager should also recognize talent. You’d think that quality is a given, but you’d be surprised.

  Telltale signs that you may have a bad agent. Do you hear about calls made by the agent berating the execs involved with your project? Is there an inordinate amount of he-said-she-said regarding the conversations you have with others regarding the progress of the project, and what the agent tells you they said to him or her? Is the agent abusive to assistants, waiters, support people, etc., in front of you? These are warning signs that you may have a bad agent.

  When you’re doing a deal or on assignment with the studio or production company, the agent will be in direct contact with producers and executives, often on a daily basis. There’s an unspoken rule of thumb that creatives are to be left alone as much as possible at certain times in the process—for instance, while writers are completing a script or directors are completing a rough cut (the director’s initial assemblage of the movie). So those on the other side of the desk will be relying on your agent to communicate the studio’s wants and needs. I know of an instance where, because of an agent’s corrosive behavior, a production company passed on a project that they had initially wanted. Said the senior production VP, “This guy is a mess. And although we liked the project and the client, in the end we decided he wasn’t worth the trouble.” I cannot overemphasize that an agent with a personality problem can derail your career. Similarly, you can do similar damage by copping a caustic attitude regarding constructive discussions of your work.

  While some agents give story notes (as I said before, fewer and fewer do), most just sell. Newer writers tend to need notes. However, if necessary, leave the notes to your trusted readers and colleagues, since experience, aggressiveness, and enthusiasm are more important traits for you to seek out in an agent. It’s relatively easy to be an agent in a bull market, but only an experienced agent will have a sound strategy for a tough sale in a lean period. To that end, a good agent is a pit bull with a pot roast on your behalf. A key indicator here is how aggressive the agent is in signing you. Many writers ignore the danger signs of a lukewarm initial effort—only to prolong the inevitably disastrous results. Sometimes having no agent is better than having a lousy agent.

  Part of a writer’s lot is incurring lots of war wounds in the form of lost creative battles and unsold or shelved projects. Your agent’s eternal optimism is the right salve for such contusions. I once had an agent who tore me a new one about various elements in my just-completed draft. Later I learned from her assistant that the agent was working off four pages of coverage and hadn’t actually read the script. In fact, most of the coverage was positive. Needless to say, her use of negative reinforcement, coupled with one too many fibs, soon had us tearfully parting ways. Conversely, is the agent waxing poetic about your script, but you suspect he or she hasn’t even read it? This astral phenomenon is known as “shining the client.” In many ways, such a carrot-and-cinnamon-stick approach is even more destructive to a writer’s psyche than the aforementioned full frontal assault on the ego. The right agent will also share your vision for the future. Here, the short game of short-term work to earn money and the long game of career should be in sync.

  What is the reputation of your targeted agent? Ask around. You should also learn about the agency where your agent works. A
gain, ask around. Yes, agencies have reputations, too. In fact, any experienced script reader will tell you which agency sends quality and which sends X-rated pop-up books as submissions. And is there any potential to package you with in-house directors or talent? Ask.

  The Agent Assistant

  Once in a while, an agency really rolls out the red carpet for prospective clients. I attended an intimate group breakfast at a Big Five agency (CAA, ICM, WMA, UTA, or Endeavor), which was hosted by a legendary agent. His assistant had the air of a grad student in literature, which she was. This senior assistant was a good listener who was smart, well-read, and funny in a self-deprecating way. Although she had been at the agency two years, it occurred to me that she seemed better suited for the book publishing world. In fact, moments after I had this thought, the agent announced that he wanted us to meet “a real comer.” Next, a young woman blew into the room with the air of a shark thrashing about inside of a power suit. Her eyes flicked across the room before coming to rest on the senior agent, as if to say, “I’m doing this for you, Senior Agent X, otherwise I wouldn’t have time for this nonsense.” In fact, she was a newly minted junior agent who had risen up the ranks in half the time of the other female assistant in the room. For the next two minutes or so, the junior agent delivered machine-gun-style some prepackaged remarks about how “you gotta be the best of the best if you want to impress [me].” Then she answered exactly one question and was gone. In her wake, the senior agent smiled and winked. “She’s something, ain’t she?” he said. The message was clear: The saying “There’s no ‘I’ in team” doesn’t apply in Hollywood. Writers should take that into consideration when choosing representation. As one veteran writer once told me, “My agent is an asshole so that I don’t have to be.” At the same time, that agent is your emissary in the industry. If he or she’s mindlessly aggressive or unscrupulous, that too will hurt your career. Unfortunately, there’s no easy answer here.