Article PageI've been writing for the screen since 1999. I moved from Seattle to Hollywood in November of 2004. Three of my five screenplays are making the rounds.
My latest comedy, FALSE SECURITY, took 2nd place in the WriteSafe.com contest for the third quarter of 2005.
I wrote, produced, and directed a short film titled, Memoir.
I gained representation as a screenwriter in 2006.
Why Can't I Get an Agent to Read My Script?
By Stephan Gray
To know what an agent expects from you and your script, you need to know how that agent fought their way up to their desk, and what they need from you to make a sale.
New writers who become side pocket clients normally persuade the agent to submit their screenplay for a short window [of time]. When the agent gets a number of rejection letters from production companies, then the writer has to submit their script themselves. The agency allows the writer to submit their screenplay, with the agency name giving them some credibility. The agent will then negotiate the deal if the writer receives an offer for their script or a writing assignment.
When an agency submits a writer's script to a producer for a weekend read, it seldom gets beyond the first wave of submissions. I realize that you, the writer, simply want to write and not be bothered with the business of packaging, submitting, chasing, pitching, and negotiating deals. That may have been the customary process for a long time, but in today's filmmaking world, getting a project off the ground has become about as difficult as giving birth. Writers seeking representation ask me the same questions every day. They are frustrated that no one wants to read their script.
In your mind, you have just written a hot script, and Hollywood is always looking for hot new properties. You're hoping an agent will take your labor of love, market it like a telemarketer, and collect a commission on the backend after it sells. The problem you're faced with is that an agent seldom has to take that risk anymore, because there are more writers new than ever before. I get calls from retired businessmen, attorneys, schoolteachers, and even ex-nuns.
Agents rightly feel they do 90% of the work and only earn 10% of the money in the marketing process. It's the marketing that costs time and money--resources that agents do not have, due to their agency's guidelines. Because you can write at home while still making a living at a primary job, you're more than capable of paying your bills and can maintain a very normal lifestyle. To understand how agents think and the world they live in, you have to appreciate their lifestyle, the demands placed on them, and especially the process to become an agent.
Any agent worth his or her salt has a guaranteed salary of $100,000 to $500,000, as stipulated by a contract with the agency. I know an agent at one of the big three agencies in town who makes $900,000. Entry- level wannabe agents normally start in the mailroom, deliver the mail, schlep scripts and offers to agency clients in Malibu as late as midnight, and may even pick up a client's laundry. We fondly call these hard- working mailroom guys "Teddy Zees". They may have a law degree, or have just graduated from Harvard, Princeton, Wharton Business School, or even Oxford with honors. They are very desirable to the actual profession they majored in, even without experience. It is very difficult for them to consent to the fact that the entry position in an agency is as a gofer, at a horridly low salary.
The next goal is to become an assistant at the desk in the area they are most interested in pursuing as an agent. In the late '70s, I called the William Morris Agency in Beverly Hills looking to work as an assistant. I was informed my salary would be -- and I never forgot the exact words -- "$175.00 per week in perpetuity." I put down the phone in shock and realized they had just made up my mind to open my own agency. The Chicago Screen Actors Guild office took 18 months to license me by playing games and making every excuse, until they finally realized I was not going to give up, ever. Before relocating to Los Angeles in 1985, I applied again for my SAG license in Los Angeles. This time, it took the customary time of only eight weeks, because the Chicago office had already validated me.
The Teddy Zees in the mailroom work 9- to 12-hour days, just to prove themselves and be noticed, so they can land an assistant's position with either a theatrical agent who works with actors, or with a literary agent who works with writers. Every Teddy Zee must have other income, resources, or even a weekend job just to afford their mailroom position, because they do not make enough to pay the rent. Every candidate struggles to advance, because they are not considered agent material if they have not been promoted from the mailroom within a year.
Finally, they are promoted to assist an agent, and primarily are the secretary to their new boss. Hopefully, the agent is not a screamer, a slave driver, or someone who is never satisfied with their work. The assistant is thrown into "swimming with the sharks" and subliminally takes on the personality and attitude of the agent. You can be assured of what the agent is like by talking to his or her assistant; after all, if it works for the boss, why shouldn't it work for them also?
The agent's day consists of agency meetings, meetings with new clients, promoting signed clients, and fielding offers. This is the fun part of being an agent. Believe me, nothing pleases a client more than when the agent calls with offers. Meanwhile, many friendly, fantasizing wannabes call daily--pitching, pitching, pitching--and are screened by the assistant. The clients call to ask for help or favors. Strong-willed clients take out their frustration on the assistant, because they are mad at their agent who does not return their calls. The client could be a very high-priced director or a seven-figure actor who hasn't received an offer lately, so the assistant has to calm their fears. They ask how their projects or careers are coming along. The smart assistant plants seeds and establishes relationships with clients that will serve them well when they become agents.
Numerous times, I have dealt with a writer's agent only to find, six months later, the assistant is the new agent. The head of the agency asks the agent to read or meet with potential clients weekly. The assistant is the buffer for everything. They have to log every call, return (roll) calls for their boss, constantly email, and send out cover letters with every submission and package. Assistants work late into the night, so they can begin the next day with no work left over. This they do, earning $400-$450 weekly, for up to two years, in hopes of securing a coveted agent's position if and when it becomes available. And remember, all the other young turks are vying for that same desk.
Now, if that assistant works well with their boss and does everything in a timely and orderly fashion to keep the agent's clients happy, the agent may endorse the assistant to the agency partners for promotion to the position of a new agent. They will be considered if they have demonstrated the ability to generate their contracted salary through commissions.
I know at some time or other you have heard bits and pieces of what I'm saying. In showing you how all this fits together, however, I am hopefully giving you a clearer understanding of how representation actually works. It is imperative that you discard the old notion of the traditional 10% agent--that doesn't exist anymore as we once knew it. You will absolutely need to know these things in order to know how to obtain successful representation.
Knowledge is a very powerful tool in Hollywood, and without it, you miss out on many opportunities. For instance, an ex-client from my agent days referred a line producer to me. (The line producer was in need of work, as the plug had been pulled on The Sound of Thunder, the Pierce Brosnan film he was working on.) I brought the line producer onto a current project for which I had just arranged funding. He helped me with a few alternative production scenarios, in case the pending writers and actors strikes materialized, and we determined how to handle talent on a weekly basis during preproduction until any strikes were settled. Then the line producer was called to produce a film for Fine Line Features. As I speak, he is taking my package (comprised of a script, marketing breakdown, cast wish list, gap financing, equity investor, film projections, and attachments of key personnel and stars) to a major foreign action director who is shooting an action film. Films today are greenlit on the virtue and strength of a package, not a script.
Okay, so you contact the newly-appointed agent to read your script for representation. Now you are aware what the agent just went through for the past three years to land that job. You have a great script, but no credits. You have never been produced and have no writing assignments, no attachments, and no buzz--just a plain, naked script under your arm. In order for the agent to keep their contracted guaranteed salary job, they have to close at least three million dollars in deals the first year. Because they are receiving $100,000 per annum, they have to book one million in gross receipts for the 10% commission to cover their salary. Next, they have to book another $250,000 to cover their assistant's $20,000 salary. Then they have to cover the cost of their company car, insurance, vacation pay, perks, bonuses, etc. Lastly, they have to cover the agency's overhead and profit.
By now, you are getting the picture of why an agent is not very quick to jump onto your bandwagon.
You, as a first time writer, have a better chance if you bring a deal to the table, ready to be negotiated, or you have a track record with the agency already. With a deal on the table, agents can persuade their boss to put the agency's resources behind you to sell your script. If they take you on, you're still only a side pocket client until they actually sell your project for a sizable amount of money, and establish a quote for your writing talents. With all the work an agent had to do to become an agent, they are not going to gamble their position to finance your writing fantasy. You need to bring a package to the picnic, so the financiers and first look deals do not have to do all the work.
Stephan Gray created the Beverly Hills Literary Consultant service to package scripts with a full budget and a cast wish list before taking projects out to agents. He is founder and principal of Gray Fox Films, and was a former co-partner in Gray/Goodman, Inc., one of the fastest-growing talent and literary agencies in the industry at the time. Some of Gray/Goodman's clients included Quentin Tarantino, Genevieve Bujold, and Jason Scott Lee. Gray helped orchestrate Universal's purchase of the screen rights of David Poyer's novel, The Return of Philo T. McGiffin for $200,000 against $500,000 for Badham/Cohen.
Home 
