The Dullard Report

With Paul Dullard

“The Writer” Part Eight

Paul Dullard: (voice over) Although the business of actually putting words into sentences and those sentences into pages, whether on a computer screen or a table, is relatively easy to understand as long as you have talents which point in more or less that direction, the actual process of going from being a writer to being a published writer is shrouded in more mystery and uncertainty. Although Gary Hatt has received a commission to write a short story for an anthology of other, likeminded, short stories, he is conscious of the fact that his continued progression along the career ladder will require assistance.

Gary Hatt: Yeah, basically you can have all the talent in the world - by "you" I mean a generic you rather than you you, obviously - but in this business you either have got a literary agent or you haven't. There is no other alternative.

Paul Dullard: Have you got a literary agent?

Gary Hatt: Not yet.

Paul Dullard: You just said there weren't any other answers apart from you have or you haven't.

Gary Hatt: Are you still cross because I cross-fertilised parts of an idea that you were involved in the creation thereof?

Paul Dullard: Meaning you stole my idea.

Gary Hatt: If you don't mind me saying I think that's a very twentieth century thing to say. Anyway, what is done is done - you made a vague suggestion and I expanded it to a seven thousand word short story.

Paul Dullard: So you've finished it then?

Gary Hatt: You're being too literal with your tenses - I have written it, I am in the process of writing it, I will write it. What difference is there in real terms between those three sentiments? Exactly.

Paul Dullard: Presumably only one of them gets you paid.

Gary Hatt: Another very twentieth century remark. I don't do this for money - I do it for my art.

Paul Dullard: So why are you trying to get yourself an agent?

Gary Hatt: So I can afford to devote myself fully to my art and also buy the biggest telly in Dixons.

Paul Dullard: How did you manage to get an appointment with this particular agent?

Gary Hatt: He plays golf with a guy who plays golf with my father. I hear he's one of the best in the field.

Paul Dullard: I thought it was a course not a field.

Gary Hatt: I mean the agency field. He's one of those guys that can charm you to your face and stick a knife in your competitions backs all at the same time. A real high rolling, ruthless, competitive, professional kind of a guy. Exactly my favourite sort of person. I imagine he approaches cutting a deal in the same way I approach writing a story.

Paul Dullard: How's that exactly?

Gary Hatt: He does it really well. Anyway, he said I should pop round this afternoon and he'd give me the professional once over.

Paul Dullard: Is this the place?

Gary Hatt: Yup - Westerman and Waterfield - Literary Agents. Wish me luck.

Paul Dullard: Right.

Paul Dullard: (voice over) Inside the reasonably luxurious offices of Misters Westerman and Waterfield, Gary is greeted by a secretary who is about to make a note of his name.

Secretary: Can I make a note of your name?

Gary Hatt: Hatt, Gary Hatt.

Paul Dullard: (voice over) The formalities over and done with, Gary is led into a waiting room and then out again a few seconds later and into an office which is occupied by the man who is sat in it.

Agent: Morning.

Gary Hatt: Good morning.

Agent: An optimist. I almost like that in a person. Sit down.

Gary Hatt: Thanks.

Agent: For what?

Gary Hatt: Letting me sit down.

Agent: Strange thing to say. I've sat down literally hundreds of times and only thanked someone twice. The second time was when an old, pregnant lady saw the wisdom in my argument and let me have her seat on the bus.

Gary Hatt: and the first?

Agent: Nosey too. Interesting. The first is none of your concern and involved a professional and a rubber glove. My word that is an appalling tie you're wearing.

Gary Hatt: What?

Agent: Good - just checking that you hadn't be conditioned to simply say a rather limp "thanks" every time anyone said anything to you. You passed.

Gary Hatt: Than…

Agent: Ah…

Gary Hatt: Um.

Paul Dullard: Oh.

Secretary: Would you like refreshments, Mr Henderson?

Agent: I think we can survive seven minutes of conversation without caffeineation, rehydration or mastication.

Gary Hatt: Seven minutes?

Agent: Though young Keith here might need a colouring book - actual words, spoken or verbal, seem to go over his waxed head.

Sec: Very good, Mr Henderson.

Agent: Where was I? Oh yes - your tie. No doubt you think it makes you look like someone with an enormous... (phone rings)... Clarke speaking. Yes. No. I say pay him - we can't have the handcuffs story come out. What's fifty grand between friends? I'm glad you agree. Good afternoon.

Gary Hatt: Is this a bad time, Mr… um…

Agent: Smith. Just Smith. It's an excellent time, Keith. Reasonably low unemployment, the air not yet poisonous to breathe and I've fallen in love with the new Playstation. Frankly, I wouldn't want to live anywhen else.

Gary Hatt: Um… ok…

Smith: Right - so you want to be a writer. That's a good start along the highways and byways of literary glory. Do you want glory?

Gary Hatt: Yes please.

Smith: Oh dear. I had hoped you were one of these noble writers who does it for their art. Why do you want an agent?

Gary Hatt: To handle my affairs, generate interest in my work, negotiate my contracts, open up new avenues - that sort of thing.

Smith: That sounds like an awfully one sided arrangement. If this agency were to agree to do all that for you I should want at least twenty five percent of everything you make.

Gary Hatt: Twen… wow… that's a lot of money.

Smith: The more you make, the more I make, the more this agency makes. It is a win-win situation all round. What's in the briefcase?

Gary Hatt: Ah, yes, the guy said to bring some samples of my work.

Smith: He didn't did he?

Gary Hatt: Yes.

Smith: The bastard.

Gary Hatt: This is a review I wrote of "The Seeds of Death". It was published by the Hatt and Mittens Press in 2003.

Smith: I've only skimmed it you understand but I can see immediately that Westerman certainly had no idea how much your works stands out.

Gary Hatt: Cool.

Smith: I literally feel sick.

Gary Hatt: Sorry?

Smith: Anything else in your leather-look plastic brief case of doom?

Gary Hatt: Um… well there is this short story I wrote for the "Christmas Short Story Collection" also published by the Hatt and Mittens Press. It involves the Seventh Doctor shadowing his earlier incarnation during the events of "The Feast of Steven" and using all his manipulating skills to ensure that...

Smith: Hmm - this is even more so than the last piece. Excuse me for a moment.

Gary Hatt: (whispers) What's he doing?

Paul Dullard: It looks like he's banging his head against the wall while at the same time setting fire to your story. He's a lot more flexible than he looks.

Gary Hatt: Do you think that's a bad sign?

Paul Dullard: I'm afraid I've never been good at reading body language.

Smith: (shouts) I hope you two are discussing alternative careers over there.

Gary Hatt: Look, I wasn't expecting you to sign me up this morning or anything. At best I thought you'd pop a contract in the post a bit later in the week. But I didn't expect all this. You've set the carpet on fire. What kind of literary agent are you?

Smith: Well obviously I'm the sort who isn't a literary agent but happens to be doing a favour for a literary agent who is being blackmailed and in return I got to meet a few of the people on his "Burn their work and ban their phone numbers" list. Swings and roundabouts and quids pros quos.

Gary Hatt: So you've just been wasting my time then?

Smith: I don't know you well enough to know whether you're capable of using your time more effectively than sitting here and listening to me so I couldn't possibly say whether it's been a waste or not. Given the evidence of my own eyes, ears and mouth I'm guessing this has been one of your less flatulent days but far be it from me to resort to vulgar mud flinging or childish abuse. Tosser.

Gary Hatt: I…

Paul Dullard: Um, do you think we should go?

Gary Hatt: Obviously we should go. Get out of the way.

Paul Dullard: (voice over)  And so another hurdle builds itself on Gary Hatt's road to fame and success and wealth beyond the dreams of Dixons. Attempts to look on the bright side weren't successful and Gary's bruised ego needs a massage from the strong and reliably comforting fingers of an old friend.

Mandy Mittens: How's that?

Gary Hatt: A bit higher.

Mandy Mittens: (squeaks) How's that?

Gary Hatt: Fantastic. I've missed you, Mand. And you Mint. My absolute favourite pair of Mittens.

Minty Mittens: Was the man really horrible to you?

Gary Hatt: He would've made a lesser man than me doubt himself.

Minty Mittens: The beast. Does your friend want a rub too?

Paul Dullard: Um… I'm fine actually.

Minty Mittens: Are you sure?

Paul Dullard: Well, perhaps just a little one.