The New Movie Magazine (Jan-Sep 1935)

Mind you, they don't say they WILL sell your yarn, or to whom, exactly, they'll show it. In fact, they don't really say anything that you could pin on them except that they think you're great and, in effect, that they'll tell you so again if you'll crack open the cookie jar and divvy up. I HAVE signed writers' contracts with two major studios and have been a reader in two others. I know a little about the business. I know for example that major studios certainly get their copies of the Scenario Synopsis, as promised in the ads, and that said publication is promptly consigned to the waste basket — usually by the office boy, who is paid to know that executives can't be bothered by such tripe. I know that the unknown, amateur writer can feel darned lucky if he or she has one chance in ten thousand of selling any story to the producers. The Screen Writers' Guild, an organization to which practically every man earning a living writing for the screen belongs, has estimated that last year 42,000 unsolicited manuscripts were submitted to studios, and someone said four had been bought, but nobody could say for sure by whom. And yet, according to the ads published by the dozens of literary racketeers, it's easy. They will stuff your correspondence with fillers — clippings from defunct trade papers or irresponsible sheets, all telling the unwary what a great organization it is and how Hollywood needs it and you, and especially your loose change. If you don't fall for it at once they send numerous follow-up letters, begging for a look at your story. If you were out here, I could show you files a foot thick of nothing but complaints from victims who have been sent to the Better Business Bureau and the various agencies of the law. Dozens of these are absolutely illiterate; some include copies of the stories they sent in and were told were great stuff. If they weren't so sincere and so darned pathetic they would be downright laughable. Sooner or later these leeches will trip up and be eradicated by the law, but in most cases they are still too shrewd to get the long rap. Their written documents are really masterpieces of insinuating evasion. They don't promise anything but that they'll take your money — but you can't read their letters without a conviction that they can, and will, sell your stuff for fabulous sums. One outfit alone is making at least a hundred thousand dollars a year in the racket — and I do believe that most of it is coming from poor people who have turned to writing to augment their slender, or non-existent, incomes. They have the effrontery to advertise the names of authors for whom they have sold material and imply that their service had everything to do with it. I have checked one of these lists and found that every author on it was a professional and had not used their revision INVESTIGATE FIRST A good literary agent can help you. A racketeer helps himself. A good agent can stand investigation. The racketeer can't. If you believe you can write, try to by all means; but before you place your manuscript in the hands of an agent, look him up by way of the Better Business Bureau or similiar organization in your own town. And above all, remember this, a good agent will pay you money — not you the agent. or so-called copyright at all. Further, I learned that most of these people protested the use of their names. Most of the material thus sold had been published in magazine or book form and had been specifically solicited from perfectly honest eastern literary brokers who did not know of any odoriferous connections the firm might have had. In the instances where this came to light most of the eastern brokers promptly severed any relationships they had. The editor of one major studio told me quite frankly that he wouldn't let representatives of any of these concerns within throwing distance of his office, and the rest were just as outspoken in their condemnation. All volunteered letters to New Movie outlining their stand in the matter. They despise this type of chiseling because it preys upon both the gullible and ambitious; because they, too, were writers before graduating into pictures and therefore sympathize with the admittedly hard lot of the beginner. In case this all sounds a bit wild to you, let me say that, although I believed the tales of the people who came to me with their woes after having been gypped by one of this horde of Literary Racketeers, I still determined to put it to the test myself. I corresponded with all of these parasites, sending the most illiterate letters and story which a fourteen-yearold boy could fabricate . . . just to see what they'd say. In my opinion, the submissions were so bad I was afraid the agents would smell a rat, but we took that chance. Here is the story, verbatim: TREACHERY ON THE SEA or BACK FROM THE DEPTHS By JOHN MARVIN Mary Jane Powers lives in a village on the sea. Her father is a captain (old-school) who don't like the boy Mary Jane loves because hes just a sailor not like first mate Pete Johnson, a big Swede. Mary Jane is blonde with brown eyes very pretty. She loves Bob Masters a sailor regardless that hes only a sailor and she a captains daughter. Pete Johnson wants to marry her but is evil and she feels this. Captain Powers is a rough seaman and thinks Pete is fine just because hes a first mate. Pete comes to him and says "I want to marry Mary Jane." Captain Powers says, "Fine my brave boy. Did you pop the question yet? And all the time he was thinking now my daughter certainly wont waste any more time with a comman sailor such as him. He gloted. That night Pete came to the house for dinner which Mary Jane cooked though shed rather be sponing with Bob Masters. He asked her to marry him after dinner but Mary Janes brown eyes flashed and she said uXo. I could never marry anybody but Bob {Please turn to page 59) Illustrated by Henry Wiener RACKETS OF HOLLYWOOD'S UNDERWORLD, Only when it's too late does the hopeful author find his "agent" is a criminal, wanted by the law. The New Movie Magazine, April, 1935 21