How I Got A Writing Agent...For A Week

I got a graduated degree in 2001. At that time, I’d had three short films under my belt and a couple of feature scripts written. I’d sent one of them “Nicki Sweet: Blood Burns The Eyes” to contests. But none panned out. Script contests were pretty new to everyone. Getting your script evaluated if you submit to contests. I doubt now if anyone read my script. I think the title alone pretty much told them “dump.”

I didn’t let rejection really deter me. I was too dumb for that. I just spent every dime I earned sending these submissions out. Then when the options started to wane a little, I’d gotten an odd email from someone in the Czech Republic. It was  a fellow alumni. I didn’t recognize the name, but was recommended by another friend at school that told him I’d written a script. They were just re-tooling Stillking studios and needed material. A LOT of material. Seems that I had a feature script they could read. A few things about my script. It is bathed in American slang. And even though this came a few years before Quentin Tarantino’s strong female action hero lead character with an eyepatch, I’d had this idea first. Or let’s just say concurrently. I doubt he stole any of my ideas (although I did intern at his music vid company A Band Apart and did pitch this script at the development stage at school)..hmm…anyway, shit-minds think alike I figure.

I sent them “Nick Sweet…” which I also sent my short film which was a compendium to the script. Give them an idea of the genre they were dealing with. I didn’t get a response back for a while. Days turned to weeks. Weeks turned to Months and so forth. Along the same time, while I was waiting, I started reading screenwriting books. Something I’d detested in film school. I cracked open one that specifically talked about selling scripts. It really gave you nuts and bolts of the hustle  (incidentally, it was written by J. Michael Stracynski who, within the book had an early pitch for Clint Eastwood directed ‘The Changeling’ which I find comical now how long it was from the print of that book to the eventual filming with Angelina Jolie. Even funnier…he thought it would NEVER be made). So I pored through the book, seeking any advantage I could. One specific piece of advice had it that you should contact agencies to send them interest letters. Fish for people who represent writers as it’s near impossible for studios to read anything not submitted by a certified agent. My mind started churning. As I lived in Sherman Oaks at the time, I checked to see who was local. Yes, there was an agency listing that published agency information. Phones, emails and faxes…and addresses!

I searched through the big dog agencies. CAA, William Morris, UTA, and so forth (Endeavor had not been fully up and running yet). I got discouraged as they took NOTHING from unsolicited people. That didn’t mean you couldn’t send it. Only meant you were wasting your time.

I found one agent that was close by to where I lived. I’m not sure why it stood out, other than it looked like just a normal address with no agency name attached. We’ll call this guy Issac. I targeted this guy, but, before doing so, I made one last visit to my screenwriting teacher, Steve.

Steve was a cool dude. He looked like Venus Flytrap from “WKRP” and created “China Beach.” He lived through that decade on the residuals alone. I consulted him about which script I could send. He discouraged me about the “Nicki Sweet” one. The title…man…the title. I loved it and was my homage to a Cassavetes movie I’ve never even seen. Steve suggested I send my other one, a sci-fi action movie called “Scorch The Earth.” He thought they could potentially see a vehicle with Michael Douglas and Catherine Zeta-Jones in it. Well, that sold me.

My palms were sweaty when I picked up the phone to dial Issac. Almost had a heart attack when he actually answered.

“Hullo.” His voice was sandpaper. He sounded about 70 years old.

“Oh hi, my name is Thom Kuo, I just graduated from grad school, and well, I got a script and looking for representation.”

There was a silence. Then…

“I don’t really take unsolicited material. How did you get this number?”

“In a book” I was really fumble mouth now “um..well, I just polished it up and it’s ready to go.”

“Oh?”

My throat was dry. I squeaked out “A studio in Czech Republic has it now, they’re looking through it. Place called Stillking.”

“Never heard of them.”

My brain went nuclear “um, they’re new, and uh…well, it’s in their hands now. Gotta a friend who works there. Really excited.”

A pause. I’m certain this guy has heard all this shit before. But in my mind, it would be a coup if say…he checked out Stillking and contacted them wondering about this script. And they would be wondering why an agent took an interest in a script they have. Playing one against the other (it’s in the screenwriting book).

“Well, look, just drop it off and I’ll take a look at it. See if we can’t do business. I’m going to send you something, sign it and fax it back. For the time being I’ll represent you. If they ask you anything send them to me.”

I pumped my fist, fuck it…he couldn’t see it “Right away, sir. Thank you!”

I hung up the phone and nearly cried. My first agent!! My egotistical brain was wondering why this was so easy. The next day, I crammed my latest draft of the script into a folder, and drove to his place. The letter I had to sign was an agreement that he would represent me in pro tempore and that was also to protect me, that he was legally allowed to read it. Well, I scribbled my Herbie Hancock on it and was attached to the packet.

Arriving at his place, it turned out to be a house. He was working from his home. No big deal. I’ve got a pitbull now. I left the package on his doorstep and skipped away.

A few days past and I hadn’t heard anything. Then a week past. Still nothing.

One day I get a phone call in the morning. It was my roommate from grad school, he was still in school and calling my cell.

“Hey, turn on the t.v.”

“What? Why?”

“Turn it on.”

“Fuck off.”

“I’m serious.”

I flipped it on. That’s when I saw it…a plane whizzed through the air and bisected a tall building. What the fuck? I thought, an action movie. I was woken up for an action movie. My brain didn’t comprehend it.

“No it’s real.”

“What?!”

“It’s real.”

“Who? Why? What?!” Half asleep, I just couldn’t figure it out. A passenger plane, which I assume was an accident slammed into a building. Again. And again. From different angles. It was 9/11 in New York City.

I clicked off the phone. And attempted to dial my long distance girlfriend at the time. I’d saw that United Airlines had one go down. She was a United Express flight attendant out of Dulles. I had to know.

One of the most chilling things you can hear is when your cell phone is prohibited to call out. It was all emergency lines cut off. It’s stupid when I think of it now as there was no way I was getting through to Washington D.C.

The months that past were still focused on the tragedy and gruesome crime of that day. But things eventually sunk back to normal. Or our “new normal.” Then it occurred to me that Issac, my agent for a week, never called me, never contacted me, nothing, just…nothing. I chalked it up to the events of that day. Or that he just passed on the script. After reading it years later, it was complete garbage and understand not returning any calls.

I maybe called once and left a message. But since that day, I just lost the persistence to be pushy. I stopped to think what “Scorch The Earth” was about. The movie is about terrorists who hijack a plane (and AC-130 to be exact) and plan to smash it into the Pentagon. They get sidetracked in the desert because an AC-130 can’t make cross country without a refuel and release a toxic chemical that turns them into mutated aliens.

I learned a lot calling the United States military and asking them specifically what it would take to make a cross country trip with a cargo plane and crash it. I recall the media advisor laughing as I told him my script. The silliness of it all. I mean considering they become mutated monsters that destroy a small town on its way to Washington. That much wasn’t accurate. But it was funny when I saw that they had assembled Hollywood movie people as a think-tank to what the possibilities were based on fictional storylines. I wonder about that military media advisor who answered all my questions with such enthusiasm. He must’ve remembered our conversation. I wonder where Issac was, or who he actually represented. Could’ve been total bullshitter like me. Most of all, I wonder if my script is still dead in the water, because it’s just too stupid to be made now, since it actually happened in reality. Go figure.