Speak to my agent (17.07.06)
Well well well. It would appear that there has been a turn up for the books! (And, no – it’s not the fact that I’m still alive. Although things had been so quiet I was beginning to wonder if I had in fact fallen off the edge of the planet...)
No, ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls, I have an agent. I am now represented. I can now honestly say "Have your people call my people", and have actual people in mind. I can genuinely get someone to ‘talk money’. I can now legitimately, in the heat of the moment and on a crap job, throw a Queenie Strop and whine "Well, just you wait until my agent hears about this".
My agent. MY AGENT. I like the sound of that.
I don’t know much about My Agent, it has to be said. They don’t (yet) have any outstandingly famous people on their books. Or moderately famous. Or anyone I recognise. At all. But that’s not necessarily a terrible thing. Not-too-famous clients generally means that no one client will be monopolising their time, so they’ll be able to get me work. Which is good.
They talk the talk. What remains to be seen is whether they walk the walk. As demonstrated below, this ain’t necessarily so. But we’re streets ahead – I’ve already called them twice, and they’ve answered the phone both times, as well as answering my questions and having a conversation with me, so we’re moving in the right direction. Crazy how someone answering their office phone and speaking to you I’ve come to see as a bonus.
In general, I am optimistic. (OK, so for me that’s more of a life statement than a reflection on this particular situation.) But here I am too. Chatting with a couple of people about it this weekend I expressed apprehension (not worry, mind, apprehension) that I knew little of them or their reputation, and that I was a little nervous of what lay ahead. The impeccably sage advice that came back was threefold:
Firstly: They’re not signing me up to be their friend, they’re signing me up as a business opportunity. They are, after all, a business. If they didn’t think they could make money on me, why would they bother, when they could represent someone else instead who would make them money? Good point.
Secondly: If they don’t work for me, I don’t work. Which makes me unhappy. Unhappy with my lot in life and in acting, and ultimately unhappy with my agent. And bored. And what do unhappy bored people do? They bitch. Or they blog. Or both...! If they weren’t working for me, it would do nothing for their reputation, and that matters in this business. Another good point.
Lastly (but not leastly): If our partnership doesn’t work out, then pick up and move on. It’s not like I’ve married them, or signed over my whole career to them. In fact, I haven’t signed anything – there’s no period of contract – there’s no contract – there’s just an agreement that you’ll give them 4 weeks notice if you decide to leave, and to a certain extent even that’s negotiable. It’s win-win. Plus, if you have an agent, you’re in a much better position to get another. You’ve lost the stigma of being un-represented. And what a stigma that it. But, work at the relationship, and if it doesn’t work, I shouldn’t flagellate myself over it (too much), but be mature and professional, and move on.
So, with that in mind, I’m as happy as a clam (not the pilates clam exercise, mind – that’s not happy, that’s hurty. As happy as a little clam in the sea that’s, well, happy. Who knows why...). I have an agent. At last. And it looks like things might be on the up.
So, if you want to get hold of me, you know, to book me for your show before I get too big, you know what to do.
Speak to my agent, darling.
No, ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls, I have an agent. I am now represented. I can now honestly say "Have your people call my people", and have actual people in mind. I can genuinely get someone to ‘talk money’. I can now legitimately, in the heat of the moment and on a crap job, throw a Queenie Strop and whine "Well, just you wait until my agent hears about this".
My agent. MY AGENT. I like the sound of that.
I don’t know much about My Agent, it has to be said. They don’t (yet) have any outstandingly famous people on their books. Or moderately famous. Or anyone I recognise. At all. But that’s not necessarily a terrible thing. Not-too-famous clients generally means that no one client will be monopolising their time, so they’ll be able to get me work. Which is good.
They talk the talk. What remains to be seen is whether they walk the walk. As demonstrated below, this ain’t necessarily so. But we’re streets ahead – I’ve already called them twice, and they’ve answered the phone both times, as well as answering my questions and having a conversation with me, so we’re moving in the right direction. Crazy how someone answering their office phone and speaking to you I’ve come to see as a bonus.
In general, I am optimistic. (OK, so for me that’s more of a life statement than a reflection on this particular situation.) But here I am too. Chatting with a couple of people about it this weekend I expressed apprehension (not worry, mind, apprehension) that I knew little of them or their reputation, and that I was a little nervous of what lay ahead. The impeccably sage advice that came back was threefold:
Firstly: They’re not signing me up to be their friend, they’re signing me up as a business opportunity. They are, after all, a business. If they didn’t think they could make money on me, why would they bother, when they could represent someone else instead who would make them money? Good point.
Secondly: If they don’t work for me, I don’t work. Which makes me unhappy. Unhappy with my lot in life and in acting, and ultimately unhappy with my agent. And bored. And what do unhappy bored people do? They bitch. Or they blog. Or both...! If they weren’t working for me, it would do nothing for their reputation, and that matters in this business. Another good point.
Lastly (but not leastly): If our partnership doesn’t work out, then pick up and move on. It’s not like I’ve married them, or signed over my whole career to them. In fact, I haven’t signed anything – there’s no period of contract – there’s no contract – there’s just an agreement that you’ll give them 4 weeks notice if you decide to leave, and to a certain extent even that’s negotiable. It’s win-win. Plus, if you have an agent, you’re in a much better position to get another. You’ve lost the stigma of being un-represented. And what a stigma that it. But, work at the relationship, and if it doesn’t work, I shouldn’t flagellate myself over it (too much), but be mature and professional, and move on.
So, with that in mind, I’m as happy as a clam (not the pilates clam exercise, mind – that’s not happy, that’s hurty. As happy as a little clam in the sea that’s, well, happy. Who knows why...). I have an agent. At last. And it looks like things might be on the up.
So, if you want to get hold of me, you know, to book me for your show before I get too big, you know what to do.
Speak to my agent, darling.
posted by Tegwen at 09:27
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