Well, hello there. Thanks for taking the time to click on my little link. Since this is my first column here at Screenwriters Utopia, Ill tell you a little bit about myself before I launch into my rants, raves, and generally colorful opinions.

I am somewhere around the fifth year of becoming a screenwriting overnight success. I am a full-time freelance writer and webmistress of Absolute Write (www.absolutewrite.com). You name it, Ive written it. I mostly make my living by writing for magazines and newspapers, but Ive also done copywriting, editing, had two plays produced and several screenplays optioned. Im guessing its that last part that you want to hear about. Well, I live to please you, so here we go. Lets dish about agents, shall we?

I came into this business with attitude. Thats partly due to my gargantuan ego, and partly due to the professors who fed it. I took screenwriting classes in college, and my professors lied to me. They told me I was great. I listened.

When I approached my first agent, I was bubbling over with the knowledge that I was the Next Big Thing, and I was granting him the privilege of representing me. He read my first four scripts, and told me he thought he could sell all of them. (He lied too. I listened.)

I thought that having an agent meant that I could now sit back and let him oh, I dont know actually do his job. After signing a one-year contract, a month went by with no word from him. I got fidgety. I wrote to him and asked if he was sending my work out. He assured me that he was. Another month went by. I left messages through his secretary to ask if there was any progress. No calls back. Month three, I emailed him, this time a bit braver, and asked, "could you tell me where youve sent my scripts?"

This is where it got ugly. He told me I was being a pain in the tuckus, and that he had no obligation to reveal where he was sending my material. He explained that whenever he told clients where hed sent a script, they would end up calling the companies and "mucking up the deal." I repeatedly assured him I was far too much of a wimp to ever call a producer, so his secret was safe with me. He refused. It sounded pretty fishy to me. I asked when I could expect to hear from him again. He said, "Whenever a deal comes in." I said, "These boots were made for walkin, thats just what theyll do"

Okay, I didnt say that, but I did get out of the contract (you can do that, you know). It took no time for me to find another agent, and she was passionate about my work. So passionate that, in six months, she sent out two scripts. (Ill pause so you can reread that, slower this time: t-w-o.) To be fair, she did send out scripts to companies who I queried and who had written to me to ask for the scripts, but only twice on her own. When I asked her what was going on after six months, she said, "Maybe you need to do some rewriting. Then Ill send your scripts out more."

GASP! Rewriting? Did she not know who she was speaking to? I was the Worlds Greatest Screenwriter. Rewriting was for the Un-Greatest Writers. I put on those boots and got walking again.

The experience with Agent #3 was so bad that I have eradicated it from my mind, never to speak of it again, even if you stick bamboo chutes under my toenails and sing "We Are The World" over and over in a locked steam room wherein I am handcuffed to a hunk of expired cheese.

However, before I found Agent #4, two simultaneous revelations occurred.

1. Maybe, just maybe, I could stand just a smidgen of rewriting.

And,

2. If you want something done right, you do it yourself.

So, before looking for another agent, I decided to get some feedback on my work, which was a real eye-opener. I started reading other spec scripts, too, expecting theyd all be crap and mine would be the shiny, golden thing. I was way wrong. There are a lot of talented writers out there. I hate them. Who knew I had competition?

By no choice of my own, I got good. I had to. I rewrote obsessively, hacking out every unnecessary word, every self-indulgent phrase, every place I could have "shown" instead of "told." I wrote some more. And more. And got some more feedback. And rewrote some more. And well, you get the idea. It wasnt a very exciting time in my life, but it was darn satisfying to have done it.

Then I decided it was time for me to send out my work on my own. I went through the Hollywood Creative Directory (www.hcdonline.com) and sent out batches of e-queries and a few snail mails. I posted my loglines at the Spec Script Library (www.thesource.com.au) and other online showcases. I got a bunch of requests. I sent out the scripts and awaited a six figure check.

Lo and behold, the producers noticed my months of solitude and poor hygiene (all tortured artists must sacrifice for their craft, dontcha know?) and they rewarded it. I was offered my first option. I grinned a lot. I called friends, family, and kindergarten bus drivers.

Then something truly bizarre and fabulous happened. In that same week, I got threeTHREEoption offers, one sale offer, and an actor attachment, all on different scripts. This is when I decided agents would have to be certifiably insane not to send out my work now.

So, guess what I did next? I call this my "Cajones Of Steel" moment. I marched my butt straight into William Morris and ICM with a briefcase containing all four contracts and all of my scripts. I stared down the receptionists and stated my case simply: "I have four contracts in my bag. I need an agent." The receptionists stated their cases just as simply: "No."

No?!

They had been instructed very clearly not to let anyone in without an appointment, and I couldnt get an appointment without sending a query letter first. I explained that I didnt have time to query. I had four contracts sitting in my bag. Moments before they called "Security" to escort me, I turned away with a "harumph" and headed back home, down, but not beaten.

After a few well-placed calls the following day, a filmmaker recommended me to a very reputable agent. Said agent agreed to check out my work and to cover the options (duh). I knew I had it made this time; he would love my work, exclaim, "Baby, where you been all my life?" and ship me out to Hollywood immediately to meet with his pal Stevey Spielberg.

Oh. Since you may have noticed I somehow found the time to write this column, youve probably guessed that Stevey hasnt swooped me up yet.

Yeah. Sigh.

So, what actually transpired was more like this: the sale fell through in the middle of negotiations, but I took the options. As soon as that was done, Agent 4 told me my material was too "soft" for his taste, but that I should keep him in mind whenever I got deals on my own.

Oh. Hello, square one.

All of this has been leading up to one point Id like to share with you: You dont need an agent. Really. As of this moment, Ive only gotten one deal through an agent contact (Agent 2 hooked me up months after we ended our official agent-clienthood.) Every other morsel of interest in my work has been the direct result of my own efforts, and, believe me, theyve been crafty efforts.

Small disclaimer: I have heard that there are a couple of literary agents in this world who will actually send out scripts for unproduced writers. I have yet to see direct evidence of this, but Im willing to accept the possibility. However, in my experience, and in the experience of most of the writers I know, agents are generally like the ones I described above. Theyre all too happy to sign on the dotted line and take their ten percent when you bring in a deal, but lukewarm, at best, at circulating your material themselves.

Larger disclaimer: This changes completely if your deals are with, say, Paramount. Then agents will beat down your door, and theyll commission private jets to bring your scripts around town while your toes are being pampered by Swedish masseuses.

So, Ive come to this conclusion: You dont need an agent to get a deal. There are a billion ways to get a producer to look at your material. Anyone who says reputable companies wont look at unsolicited queries from writers is lying. With very few exceptions, you can get read at any company you like just by presenting an irresistible pitch.

Once youve got a dealor fouryou will need an agent or an entertainment attorney to negotiate and check out the contracts for you. But dont make yourself crazy over it now. Concentrate on writing great material and getting it out to producers any way you can. The agents will follow. Oh yes, they will follow.

Jenna has a ton credits, Editor for Partisan Review, Harvard Review, and Agni literary journals, 1996-7; Stage director at The Underground Theatre, Boston 1997; won "Best Director"; she has also written for several journals, magazines, she is also an optioned screenwriter, produced playwright, and a poet.