Today I’m
going to underline something we writers don’t like to believe, but which we
secretly know: Much of your success in your work will depend upon who you
know. And, sadly, it’s whom you know, but “who” is how the
saying goes. Already I digress.
Connections can make all the
difference. People in power (publishers,
agents, editors) are only human, and tend to believe the recommendation of a
trusted friend more than your carefully crafted cover letter. Because of this, often the son of their buddy
will get the assignment before some stranger will, four states away.
Yes, you can forget this principle
and doggedly work on your book, your script, your articles, and you will attain
some measure of success. But the chances
of launching your work to the next level are slim. Oh, it happens, but it’s rare. Frequently the people who “break through”
knew someone, and they’ll even admit it.
I was at a dinner party once where an Emmy-award-winning writer
confessed that he never once got a job on his own; it was always through a
friend of his dad’s, or some other connection.
Was he good? Probably. Was he lucky? Absolutely.
We don’t like to think that luck
trumps talent; it negates the importance of the skills we’ve honed, the passion
we’ve devoted to our craft. And it isn’t
fair, doggone it—something we still
believe we are owed by the universe, a holdover idea from our childhoods.
So what can you do about it? First of all, stop pouting and resenting
those with better connections than you have.
It is what it is. Self-pity will
stifle your creativity and your energy to do those things you actually can, to
sell your work. I was meeting with
agents and producers in Hollywood when we suddenly moved to (you will never
believe this) IOWA! Are you kidding
me? Be a screenwriter living in the
Midwest? So I shifted gears and wrote
books and plays. Today I live in
Northern California where it’s still hard to zip into L.A. for meetings, so my
(brilliant, thank you) screenplays are not getting shopped around. Also, I’m not 28 anymore, and ageism in
Hollywood is widely known. But I don’t
sit and cry; I roll up my sleeves and do what I can.
The second thing you can do is to
network, socialize, and make friends.
This sounds like bitter medicine to many an introverted writer, but it’s
what you must do to market your work.
And you can do it both electronically and in person. Attend those parties, chat up those folks in
the biz, and make yourself known. Obviously,
if you live in L.A. or New York, you have many more opportunities than if you
live in Billings, Montana. But again, do
what you can where you are. Use
Facebook, Twitter, and every other social media device you can to make
friends. Notice I said friends, not
contacts. Develop real relationships
with people and doors will open. Like it
or not, it’s who you know. Ouch. I mean whom.
I was afraid of that. I suppose that's one more thing to work on as I continue to try to improve my writing. Thanks for the great advice! Speaking of who you know, how do you find people who read your work and give better advice than "it's nice"? Maybe I should make up a questionnaire for them to fill out after they read?
ReplyDeleteA questionnaire is an excellent idea! Pretend you're a publisher who's seeking input from a stable of "readers" and put together a list of questions you'd ask them. It's hard to get close friends to be brutally honest, so maybe branch out to acquaintances who aren't as reticent to be frank with you. And be sure to factor in how expert these people are in the first place-- do they even enjoy the same movies you do? Is their sense of humor more refined than frat house humor? Do they read other works in your genre? All those things can make a big difference. Thanks for writing in!
DeleteThank you! I didn't know publishers did that. I do think you're right that branching out to acquaintances who read my genre would also be helpful. Now that I have a plan, it seems less overwhelming. Thanks again.
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