A Gent's Outlook

A Literary Agent Divulges the TRUTH about Publishing

Monday, May 01, 2006

Wanted: Greedy Celebrity Limpdicks (or Actors Should Be Seen and Not Heard)

God, I hate celebrities even more than I hate writers. Why? Because every fucking celebrity is a wannabe writer in disguise, that’s why. Someone can win four Oscars, two Tony awards, and a Grammy, but somehow he is just not happy until he adds the title of author to his collection of accolades. Assholes.

It’s not that I haven’t worked with arrogant snots who have had ghostwriters basically write entire tomes that were supposed to be written by the snot himself (and whose ghosters get a “with so-and-so” byline), and it’s not that I haven’t worked deals where celebrities played a major role. I can take it when some limpdick action hero wants me to sell his autobiography, which is actually a memoir although Limpdick doesn’t know the difference, because he just wants the fame and glory and monola, if you get my drift. What I can’t stand is these fucked up high-on-themselves celebrities who believe their own bullshit—that I cannot take. Why? Because it will soon turn into some kind of book idea, and then they will call me, and then I will have to tell Angelina directly to her face that I think she needs therapy--bad--not a writing credit. And then she will cry and I will, for about five seconds, feel badly that I hurt her wittle peewings.

Until I think of all the money she doesn’t pay taxes on and then I will tell her to go fuck herself.

Half-wit celebrities, for some reason, land at my door. The morons who just need another self-aggrandizing tool are fine; they fit the greedy cocksucker mold nicely. I can deal with greedy cocksuckers. However, when these celebrities start to take themselves seriously, I get into trouble. Let’s just say that laughing at actors who are known all over the world but who can’t write a sentence doesn’t play well with their “people,” or whatever it is you call the troupe of yes-persons who traipse in with them and kneel in worship as they speak.

What brought on this rant, you ask? I saw a headline on CNN about George Clooney and his stance against the genocide that is happening in Darfur. So who gives a fuck? About George Clooney, not about the genocide. Since when did actors take the place of ordinary citizens, trained diplomats, and statesmen? Never. Does George Clooney have a degree n poly-sci? Does he have a degree in anything? Yes? No? Who would know? We don’t expect actors to have degrees because they only need to be qualified in the field of acting, not in nuclear physics. Have a degree from Juliard? Super. You are qualified to act or direct or be a really interesting stripper. But take a defiant stance against the atrocities in Africa or wherever? Are you acting a part, or do you really have an opinion that a PR person didn’t hand you? Most of the the smart entertainers keep their big mouths shut—I give you Sharon Stone and Kris Kristofferson, who are both Rhode Scholars. George and the hoards of celebs who showed up at the Darfur rally aren’t qualified to adequately provide solutions to the problems in Africa any more than George Bush is, or any of his cabinet. Therefore, he is just expressing an opinion like Joe Average on the street. But does Joe Average get his name headlined on CNN? No, because we worship celebrities and have elevated them to the status of all-knowing, when all they know is how to be celebrities, and some of the really stupid ones even fuck that up.

And what happened to Joe Average? Why in the hell are you spending your time letting celebrities fight your battles for you? Why does the opinion of some dipshit who accidentally fucked his polygamist brother's third wife and became father to his own nephew and wrote a book about it (with a foreword by L. Ron Hubbard) count more than yours just because everyone remembers his name? Does Congress not listen to anyone unless they have a name? Publishers don't, but the federal government is supposed to be different. Even a lowly promiscuous, well-hung, sexy beast of an agent like me is supposed to have an opinion that matters in DC, not just NYC or LA, or even SD (Huh?).

I am tired of being in an industry where everyone wants to get published so that people will listen to what they have to say. Our current celebrity lustfest promotes this shit and ultimately that shit drips down on my head. Reality shows that make Annie Nobody into somebody for fifteen minutes only add to the garbage pile filled with the souls of those who seek fame and never get it, or get it only briefly enough to let it damage them and ruin their lives. This recent wave of socially conscious celebs is especially atrocious. I know that all you touchy feelies out there, the ones who haunt the writer boards in search of some wannabe who needs comfort when some big bad editor rejects him, will be pissed, but let me say this: it must be goddamn nice to be able to go off to have your kid anywhere you want because you have billions of dollars and can rent entire hotels where you don’t have to be around the people you actually purport to help. I am talking about Angelina and Brad, who are in hiding in Namibia, where the president of the country has decreed that they should be left in peace while they await the birth of J-P Junior. Fuck them. Anyone who is so into their cause needs to get out there and live among the people who need their help, which, by the way, if all these socially conscious celebs gave away just half of the zillions of buckaroos they get for standing around and being admired, there would be no one needing help anywhere in Africa.

But it never gets that far, does it?

Just like the writer who can’t wait to dedicate his book to his mom, his dad, his wife, his kids, his ex-boss, etc., and then ends up dedicating the damn thing to himself (yes, there are writers who would if they could), celebs who start to take themselves too seriously forget that the only reason they got where they are is that someone paid money to see them act, possibly even by accident. Writers are the same way. Anymore, there are just as many published writers who act like wannabes after they get that all important publishing credit, and, again, the industry has gone straight to shit because of them. Because of people who want to be loved no matter what they do or whatever schlock they produce in an effort to find themselves—they want to be loved as writers but be able to stretch and grow and do what they want. Unfortunately, being loved is a responsibility, in case no one ever told you, wannabes, and sometimes that means doing what others need you to do.

In others words, George and Angelina and Brad and Madonna and Tom and Katie on and on and on, don’t call me…

I’ll call you.

1 Comments:

  • At 2:28 PM, Anonymous Anonymous said…

    In this ridiculously celebrity-driven culture of ours, is it any wonder why books are considered an archaic form of media? They are nothing short of an ancillary afterthought to some celebrity's "platform."

    Once upon a time, an author's platform WAS his writing. Now publishers require every author to have a platform other than said author's expertise regarding the subject about which said author writes (read: TV show, film career, or some other red carpet free ride to fame). If publishers don't take their own product seriously, then why should consumers?

     

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