The UTA List

When I moved to Los Angeles, I spent three months working for free at two internships. In fact, I paid to have these jobs, because they were given to me in exchange for school credit, which costs money. A lot of money. Especially since the last semester of my graduate degree, the semester in which I did my internships, was the only time the University gave me neither in-state status nor a fellowship to cover tuition costs. One internship cost me one arm, the other, one leg. Roughly.

But I wasn’t bothered. It was absurdly easy to get my internships, one of them in the office of an Oscar-winning writer/director, and I had no worries about finding a job when the semester came to an end. I would pay off my student debt with the ease and grace of a dancer, I thought. This may prove to be true, if I do someday give in and start dancing for money. I’m not there yet, but don’t assume that it won’t ever happen.

In September, my internships were over and still I had no worries. Several things then occurred. One, some banks failed. They weren’t banks where I had checking accounts, so I incorrectly assumed I wasn’t affected and carried on with my business, which included applying to everything on the UTA list. The UTA List was the second thing to occur…that is to say, a lot of nothing.

The UTA list is a word document that advertises otherwise secret entertainment job postings. It’s sort of like a special industry craigslist, but with a hint of exclusivity. Though it is sent out via email by the United Talent Agency, anyone can put a posting on it if they know the right people. The list is supposed to be extremely hard to get. But it’s not. If you ask me for it, I’ll get it from one of several contacts and send it along, no questions asked. One of the reasons I will do this is that it’s absolutely worthless.

Don’t get me wrong, the UTA list has helped me out in the past. In fact, I got one of my luxury internships, for which I am still in debt, through the UTA list. This happened to be in the office of the Oscar-winning writer, who is a very nice guy. He even emailed me on my birthday, six months after I left his office. And it isn’t as though I didn’t enjoy working there. I read a good number of excellent books, most of them still unpublished and in PDF or galley form, and told the writer/director whether or not I thought he should make them into a movie. I was more than happy to pay a leg, roughly, for the chance to read fiction all day, and I am appreciative to the University for accepting my payment and allowing me to receive credits in exchange.

One day, I was reading a novel in this office when a television director came in for a meeting. He was curious as to how I could get such a coveted position, and I explained that I found it on the UTA list. He was surprised, and said that he had never received a job just by sending in a resume. I was rather proud of myself for having accomplished this feat.

Let me just say that it is not hard to get a job by submitting your resume if you are in fact purchasing your own employment. Trying to get someone to give you money on the basis of only your resume is a whole other enchilada. Even if you have access to the UTA list.

Alas, this is something one must learn first-hand. Believing that I had access to an exclusive list with which I had been lucky in the past, I sent off a slew of resumes to any and all job postings on the UTA list. The very next day I received a request for an interview. I went, and spent fifteen minutes talking to a woman in a dark and cluttered office about whether or not the executives at my two internships were paid for their work. I was confused. And still am. I have no idea what this woman was trying to find out, not even now. But she did tell me that they were offering $25k per year to the assistant who they would eventually hire. I suppose I should have been pleased that they weren’t asking me to pay for the privilege of working for them. But I was not exactly wowed by the sum.

I sent off dozens more resumes the next week. And the week after that. I scanned each post on the UTA list every time it made its way to my inbox. I even downgraded from assistant positions to receptionist positions, but I heard nothing back. Not for another two months did I have another interview.

Don’t think, though, that I didn’t have any work. Oh heavens, no. There are ways to survive LA. Even when the UTA List fails you. And even when the banks fail, too.