Breakfast with Sharks Page 15

  DECIDING WHETHER TO LEAVE YOUR AGENT

  The standard length of a representation contract is two years. However, you can formally withdraw from an agent-client relationship if the agent hasn’t procured work for you in ninety days. Most scriptors would rather take their chances in Thunderdome than be without an agent. However, bad representation gives the writer a false sense of insecurity. By this I mean that writers often misdirect their efforts and frustrations on a single individual who they believe is keeping them from perpetual employment and untold riches. These writers spend their waking hours trying to find ways to motivate their representation to better do their bidding. For the love of God, please take the spec out wide, or at least set up the meeting with Jody Foster’s people. Better to take a page from the Richard III School of Screenwriting and act upon your winter of discontent. If you fear that your agent is using your latest screenplay to paper-train his iguana, it’s time to move on.

  Agents are of little value if they have no access, or are unwilling to expend their access on your work. Without these qualities, agents are like lion tamers without whips or chairs. An agent who takes two weeks to return your call is not looking out for your career. I once had an agent who would leave tormenting messages on my machine like “Michael, they passed on the script. They said the protagonist wasn’t ironic enough. I’m leaving for New York for five days, so I’ll try to find out more when I get back and then we’ll touch base.” I finally got up enough courage to leave this agent and strike out on my own. Contrary to popular belief, I had little trouble getting producers and directors to examine my work without an agent. I simply made my pitch and when the potentially interested party said the inevitable, “Have your agent submit the script to us,” I would answer that I was changing agents so would instruct my lawyer to send the materials. An attorney friend who is not even in the entertainment field had given me a set of form letters on his letterhead. I simply inserted the name and address, and out the package went. At other times I simply requested to sign a standard release form, which many companies maintain for considering material submitted directly by the writer. These forms can be e-mailed, faxed, or snail mailed. The point is there are ways to work around the system if you are temporarily without an agent.

  MARKETING YOUR SCRIPT WITHOUT AN AGENT

  Welcome to “Why you can’t have a career or even a life . . . without an agent.” Wait, that’s not right. As I’ve noted, the primary reasons for having an agent are for access, information, and enthusiasm. An agent has information and key contacts that are useful in the marketplace. They’re also a professional person in the industry who is an enthusiastic sounding board. An agent is basically a salesman. Ideally, you churn out magic—your agent runs out and sells it for gazillions. Once in a while it works just that way. If an agent doesn’t give you access, information, or enthusiasm, then you’re better off without him. You can move your career forward even without an agent. With a little practice you can do all those marketing things yourself, but first, relax and focus on being a writer. Here’s how.

  1. PREPARE THE SCRIPT TO BE ALL THAT IT CAN BE

  Having judged four screenplay competitions to date, I can tell you that 95 percent of the scripts sent out aren’t ready for the market. Basic story elements aren’t locked down like a compelling protagonist, central question, or integrated subplots. Make sure you give your project a good title that’s either mysterious like The Matrix, or hints at the nature of the story— Touch of Evil, for instance. Or something suggestive like Raging Bull. Next, read your finished opus aloud. Or better: Have someone read it to you. Typically, my drafts change about thirty percent following the full read. Bad dialogue and passive voice will all be exposed. At the end of the sequence, ask your reader or yourself questions. Is the dilemma clear? What are the subplots? Does the protagonist have clear needs and goals?

  Five Trusted Readers

  Don’t even think of sending out a script until you pass it through a gauntlet of five colleagues, teachers, or instructors and other people whose opinion you respect. Ask your readers questions about the project. Remember, this process isn’t about propping up a threadbare ego—it’s about making your script all it can be.

  2. PREPARE THE PITCH

  Before you rush for the Hollywood Creative Directory, prepare a beat sheet: a three-page synopsis conveying the main action of the story. Don’t get hung up talking about subtext, as in “Jane wants to go to St. Louis but fears intimacy because of unresolved issues with Mom.” Despite the fact that many writers enjoy discussing the tiniest twists and turns, such minutia is confusing for the listener.

  Logline

  What is your story about in two sentences? Sounds basic but many writers will spend months writing a script, then stammer when asked to describe their project in a nutshell. Tip: Check out the VideoHound’s Video Retriever for a sense of how to boil down your story to its most basic premise. Write out your logline onto index cards and stick it out your board, wall or computer. Get used to seeing it so that the premise becomes second nature.

  Research Your Target

  Read the trades. Arm yourself with the Hollywood Creative Directory. Google search any producer you’re about to query to find out what he’s currently working on. Right way: “I read in today’s Hollywood Reporter that you’re looking for a scifi comedy in the spirit of Galaxy Quest.” The wrong way to go is to shoot from the hip. “Hi, is producer Don Simpson in? No? Well, guess I can speak to his partner.”

  3. PRACTICE YOUR PITCH

  I use a tape recorder and a stop watch. The idea is to get it down so that it sounds natural.

  4. APPROACHING YOUR TARGET

  The most enlightened way to approach your target is to call direct. And stand up when you phone. I’m serious. You will have both better energy and more force when you stand versus compressed lungs while sitting. For more authority and control of the situation, create a mental picture of the listener sitting while you are standing. Next, you should request a specific producer or executive and when he answers you say, “I’m Lynwood Bangs. I have a project that’s perfect for you.” Usually, he or she will say ask for the logline, to which you would reply, “It’s about a girl who sees extra-terrestrials, but no one else can. They’re trying to communicate with her, and she’s scared to death.” “Uh-huh” is the response you’ll get, which means he’s listening. So you say quickly, “It’s Sixth Sense meets E.T.” Congratulations. You just made a pitch. Of course, the producer knows that it’s all in the execution. What you’ve said so far isn’t outright garbage, it might be something and it might not be. The point is that you’ve approached him in a confident, professional manner. So he says one of the following:

  A. “Send it.” BAMM! You’re in.

  B. “Have your agent send it over.”

  You say, “I’m in the middle of changing agents, will my lawyer do?” Ninety-five percent of the time he will say, “Fine,” and you get your cousin the tax attorney to send it over. Five percent of the time he will say, “Who’s your agent?” Without missing a beat, you answer, “I’d rather not say.” Now’s there’s a pregnant pause. You don’t have an agent, you have never had an agent, so you do the one thing we writers are fantastic at, you panic. You hem and haw, then blurt out about your difficult time with puberty, the ICM agent who stole your lunch money. Guess what? The exec was playing gotcha, and you just blinked. You’re not a pro, you’ll never be in his league, and no, he does not want to read your crappy little script. Let’s rewind. Let’s say you have an agent, but are thinking about leaving this agent because you feel he isn’t being aggressive enough—very normal writer complaints. Let’s say you’re already talking to a new agent but nothing has been finalized. Let’s say you want the new agent to commit so you can leave what’s his face who won’t return your calls. So you decide to get pro active, do a little digging on your own. You approach a producer you think is perfect for your project and pitch yourself, because it feels liberating to take charg
e of your career and make things happen. Which is exactly the same place you are right now without a crappy agent you have to hide. So when the producer says, “Oh, who’s your agent?” you say what is logical, which is, “I’d rather not say.” Now there’s an awkward pause. No, not because the producer can smell fear wafting over the phone lines—but because he has breached good business sense. He was unprofessional. After all, it was you who brought the project of potentially great value to him. And because you have the good manners not to call him on his faux paus, you invoke your Zen-like power of silence, allowing that pregnant pause to continue. Now the producer quickly fills it with something like, “Fine. Send the script.”

  C. The third option to your phone query might be, “Sorry, we don’t do kid’s movies.” This option is unlikely since you should have researched the producer to know whether this is his genre. If he still says no, you still win, because you just cut three weeks out of the waiting game, and your answer was free.

  By the way, 99 percent of the time, no response to your submission means no interest. When you send something and don’t get an answer back, your first instinct should be to move on. Finally, don’t sabotage your chances by giving into the impulse to get off the phone as quickly as possible. When acting as your own agent, it’s important to keep in mind:

  1. No one owes you a spec sale or development deal. It’s hard work and you’re responsible for the end result.

  2. The more times you cast your net, the better you’ll get at it, the greater your chances will be. It’s a numbers game.

  3. Seek out people who have succeeded at what you are attempting via phone, in person, emails or a well-crafted letter.

  4. Be professional, pleasantly persistent.

  5. Don’t go after what’s available. Go after what you really want the most.

  Follow the above strategy, and you can create your own access, strategically plan and take responsibility for your career.

  THE BENEFITS OF A GOOD AGENT

  You will eventually want to secure a solid agency representation to enhance your legitimacy as a professional writer, as well as to increase the number of opportunities from which you may benefit. Agents scour the town looking for assignments and other opportunities, and most writers aren’t nearly as well connected. Further, agents provide a minimum-quality-control standard for the industry, since agents who continually submit substandard work will soon find doors closed all around town. How you find new agentry leads us back to building a community: Put six creatives in a room and one of them is bound to have a line on an agent. By the way, remember that guy who threw the best all-night parties in school and then peeked over your shoulder during Film Theory finals? He probably became an agent. It’s time to dust off those suspiciously identical test results and give him a call.

  Response Time

  Agents take from 3–8 weeks to read material from prospective clients, so be patient. Call the agent’s assistant a week after submitting your script to verify that the package arrived and has been logged into the computer. Do not request a status report or to speak with the agent until at least 21⁄2 weeks have elapsed.

  Agents are fundamental to moving up the career ladder. They give a client a certain level of credibility. With perseverance and luck, you will inevitably find the right relationship. Once again, the key is strategic planning and taking responsibility for your own career. Finding the right relationship is not easy, so if at first you don’t succeed, try, try again. If you’ve never had representation, the agent list (wga.org) of agencies willing to look at material from new writers is a good place to start.

  14

  SECTION 330: MANAGERS

  What Is a Manager?

  The Difference Between Managers and Agents

  How Do You Know If You Need a Manager?

  Avoiding Bad Managers and Finding Good Ones

  Double-Dipping

  EXTRA CREDIT READING:

  Monster: Living Off the Big Screen by John Gregory Dunne

  I had to be my own best salesman. I had to know everything that was going on in Hollywood, who might or might not be interested in my piece, and guide my agent in those directions, even if he disagreed.

  —TOM SCHULMAN (DEAD POETS SOCIETY)

  WHAT IS A MANAGER?

  A colleague once commented that since I already had an agent, he couldn’t understand why I also needed the manager with whom I had recently signed. “Managers are there to see that the creative [me] who wakes from a fever dream doesn’t get hit by a bus,” I said. In other words, managers are the creative’s buffer between the artistic process and the harsh business realities of the industry. “But that’s what agents are for,” my colleague replied. “That’s what they used to be for,” I answered. While managers routinely work for talent, the idea of management is still a concept that attracts curiosity and skepticism.

  THE DIFFERENCE BETWEEN MANAGERS AND AGENTS

  Agents used to be sounding boards for developing material, and some still are; however, as stated earlier, nowadays they are mainly about the art of the deal and not much else.

  Today’s agents don’t so much develop talent as acknowledge success. As a case in point, while in graduate school, I wrote a script that won a contest and landed me a development executive at Touchstone, who agreed to be on my thesis committee and “help bring the project along.” At the same time, a senior Big Three agent offered to work in tandem with the exec and take me on as a pocket client. I graduated just as the rewrite was coming together, and needing a stake to set up shop in Hollywood, I was thrilled to receive $5,000 up front against a total $45,000 contract from a Florida producer. The assignment was writing the true story of Dr. Ben Becker, a former Jack Dempsey sparring partner who became the head coach of the U.S. Boxing Team for three Olympics. Becker had been Muhammad Ali and Sugar Ray Leonard’s corner man at the 1960 and 1976 games. When I called my agent with the good news, I was told that the deal “fell below her radar,” but that she wished me well. You can imagine my shock at hearing those words.

  It often falls to the manager not only to build a career incrementally, but also to bridge the chasm between the writer’s often cloistered environment and the realties of a push-push business. A good manager can be the go-between who interprets the market while building a bridge to a strong agent-client relationship. They concern themselves with the general maintenance of your career.

  HOW DO YOU KNOW IF YOU NEED A MANAGER?

  Most working writers avoid hiring a manager for as long as possible because of the additional 10 percent they will have to pay out. However, if you’ve made some inroads in your career, such as signing with an agent, optioning some of your work, or landing some cable movie or low-budget assignments, you may begin wondering how to increase your visibility. After all, your agent is most likely only sending you on pitch meetings for projects you can land right now—in other words, projects at your current level. You may feel that more vision and future-mapping are needed in your strategic career arsenal. Or maybe you wonder if you’d benefit from a weekly rap session to discuss the marketability and progress of your latest spec before and during the writing process. If you’re asking these kinds of questions, it may be time to consider a management service.

  Most managers are ex-agents. Some have gone on to production roles at the studio. Such people then make the next logical leap of combining both backgrounds to become—tuh-dah!—managers. The key job of a manager is to keep you productive while trying to generate some traction or industry awareness for your career. This is the person who makes sure you work on your projects every day, gets you introductory meetings, and leaves you inspirational messages on your answering machine and in your e-mail box, particularly when you’re feeling frustrated or blocked. To wit:

  Manager’s Message No. 1, delivered Tuesday, 8:47 a.m.: “I think the new third act is brilliant. I think it will be even more brilliant when you make it bigger. I can’t wait to see it. When will that be? How about next Wednesday? Y
ou can give me the script and then we can go for breakfast. Call me.”

  Manager’s Message No. 2, delivered Tuesday, 9:01 a.m.: “I told Benny Jacobs about you. He’s the new VP at Fox. He says they’re looking for a romantic comedy, and I said I had the perfect script, which I will when you hurry up and finish it. Let me know about Wednesday . . . unless you think you might be done by this Friday, in which case we can slip the script to Benny in time for his weekend read. That would be great. Let me know about lunch this Friday. Are you out of town or something? Call me, call me, call me.” (Applying pressure to speed up delivery dates is the manager’s “friendly noose strategy.” If the tactic fills you with anxiety and fear, that’s good.)

  Because today’s breed of agent is more inundated than ever, the one-on-one relationship with the writer is critical. Since teamwork to close a deal is essential for an agent, good agents are mindful that managers are there to help them prepare a client’s work for market. Managers are integrally involved in the process—the development of an individual script. For that reason, managers will sometimes read a script a dozen times, trying to find ways to make it better. Traditionally, managers work with a very select client list. Whereas a top agent will service some thirty-odd clients, most managers work with fewer than half that number.

  Managers are sometimes referred to as “agents with smaller client lists.” This is a misconception, since creative input isn’t necessarily a prerequisite to be a good agent. Having a nose for the deal is. In contrast, managers work at getting the material ready with creative input, and then implementing a strategy that will give the writer visibility and exposure in the marketplace. Managers also keep the lines of communication open between the writer and the agent, the producer, the studio, etc., while a project is going through the script-to-screen process.