What they’ll do for a good story

NEW YORK —  It was a nasty confrontation between one of Hollywood’s biggest talent agencies and an upstart book agent who told his former bosses to get lost. When it was over, neither side had delivered a knockout punch: International Creative Management failed to block uber-agent Richard Abate from jumping to the rival Endeavor talent agency, and Abate was still battling a $10-million claim for damages.

But if the result was muddled, fascinated observers on both coasts said the recent wrangle in a Manhattan federal court offered a revealing glimpse of the increasingly cutthroat scramble by talent agencies to corner the market on literary material for films and television. And it showed that rough-and-tumble Hollywood business tactics, including lawsuits and personal attacks, are permeating New York’s traditionally more genteel book world.

“If there’s any good news here, it’s that people in the industry are still battling over literary content,” said Amy Schiffman, an agent with the Gersh Agency in Los Angeles. “But the bad news is that Ari Gold has arrived in New York.”

Gold, of course, is the Machiavellian, backstabbing agent on HBO’s “Entourage,” and Abate’s real-life tale of hubris and chutzpah -- a story that dominated a two-day hearing in New York last month -- echoed the show’s darkly cynical take on feuding Hollywood power brokers. The agent’s decision to abandon his former employer and open up a literary wing in New York for Endeavor, one of the West Coast’s hottest agencies, was widely seen as a provocative act. And it raised the stakes in an already frenzied competition on both coasts to find new literary material for the screen.

Ever since “Gone With the Wind,” studios have been vying for the rights to bestsellers that could become the next “Da Vinci Code” or “Harry Potter.” Increasingly, they’re also seeking out quality material. Films based on fiction by Ian McEwan, Philip Roth, Gabriel Garcia Marquez, Cormac McCarthy, Alice Munro and Raymond Carver are all in production or set for release, and a spate of recent releases has had high-toned literary origins: “The Namesake” by Jhumpa Lahiri, “The Painted Veil” by W. Somerset Maugham and “The Last King of Scotland” by Giles Foden are just three examples.

Steve Rubin, Doubleday’s publisher, said these were indeed good days for turning high-quality literary material into film adaptations: “People are somewhat belatedly realizing that this is a sensational pile of material. It’s worth its weight in gold.”

But as the hunger for adaptation-ready books grows, powerful agents like Abate, representing some of Hollywood’s biggest talent agencies, are fighting for elbow room. Besides independent agents and those working for larger agencies, a swarm of production companies has also joined in the hunt. Although several have been doing such work out of New York for some time -- Scott Rudin and the Weinstein brothers being prime examples -- others are newcomers to the game, eager to make their presence felt.

“Not a week goes by that I don’t get a call from someone with X, Y and Z production company saying that she’s going to be in New York next week and could she please come by and talk to me,” said Simon Lipskar, with Writers House agency. “Everybody wants to get their hands on new material first; they all want the first look that can give them a big advantage. The market for books is in full throttle.”

The fight for the inside literary track can be brutal, and agents live in constant fear of being out-hustled. They’re also playing a gossipy perception game. Abate triggered bicoastal chatter in February when Variety reported that he was walking out on a long-term ICM contract and turning down a pay raise. Although he said he simply wanted to run his own shop at Endeavor, ICM called it a high-level betrayal and launched a counterattack.

“This courtroom battle was less about money than literary value, and who gets to control it,” said Ira Silverberg, a longtime New York agent. “No book division makes nearly as much money for an agency as the film and TV divisions. But when you’re a big company, you need to feed the machine with new material -- you want your clients to get the first look at new books. It’s a high-stakes game on both coasts.”

When independent book agents try to sell film and TV rights for their clients’ works, there are several options: They can shop a manuscript themselves, trying to do a deal with Hollywood on their own, or they can join forces with an agency that has West Coast clout but no book division, such as Creative Artists Agency, the Gersh Agency or United Talent Agency. Or the agent can try to cut a deal with one of the so-called super-agencies -- such as ICM or William Morris -- that has a multitude of agents under the same roof representing books and movie deals. There are also literary agencies that represent books and sell properties to film or TV, such as IPG Literary Management.

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Which route to take?

For book authors, each route offers its own advantages. By working with a smaller, “boutique” agency, some writers may feel they’re getting more attention than in the crowded hallways of a larger firm. But if they decide to go the super-agency route, authors may have quicker access to executives who actually green-light movie deals. And that can be crucial at a time when it has become tougher than ever to get a film produced.

“To me and other writers, the movie side of things is a big sea of anonymous faces,” said Dale Peck, a novelist and controversial literary critic represented by Abate. “You want somebody with expertise in your corner.”

To be sure, some independent agents are wary of working with a larger agency because they fear it might lure away their clients. Yet few have voiced fears about Endeavor’s expansion into New York. “I can’t think of one literary agent here who is genuinely threatened by Richard Abate’s move,” said Silverberg. “There’s plenty of work if you know how to sign up material,” added agent Jane Dystel. “There’s no shortage of books.”

At ICM, however, Abate’s defection struck a nerve. For decades, ICM and William Morris have been the full-service kings when it comes to brokering literary and motion picture deals. And ICM’s book division is considered one of the strongest in the business. Yet other agencies have become increasingly influential, including Endeavor. Its founders, Ari Emanuel and Tom Strickler, broke away from ICM in 1995 to form their own agency, leaving a trail of bad blood that lingers to this day.

The New York book world is no stranger to literary agents who move from one firm to the next. But few can recall a case in which an agent like Abate, with nearly a year to go on his contract, told bosses he was leaving to join an archrival. Nor could they remember a case in which an essentially private dispute spilled into court, airing an ugly load of literary laundry.

Besides filing a $10-million claim for damages, ICM unsuccessfully sought a preliminary injunction to block Abate from working for Endeavor this year. As agency officials saw it, he had left with confidential information and trade secrets that could be used against them in future book deals.

“It was a betrayal, pure and simple, period,” said Esther Newberg, a 31-year veteran who runs ICM’s book division. In an interview, she also downplayed the broader significance of the clash, calling it a strictly legal matter.

During their courtroom battle, both sides traded angry shots. Abate, who is stocky, dark-haired and seems tightly wound, said he had grown restless at ICM and even suggested the agency was having a rough time financially -- a charge that Newberg and other ICM officials have completely dismissed. Abate has represented authors including Peck, Evan Wright, James Swanson, Yiyun Li and Lisi Harrison. He’s developed a specialty with writers of young adult fiction, whose works are frequently shopped to TV and movie studios. The agent testified that 48 of his 50 clients will follow him to his new job at Endeavor.

Attorneys for ICM painted a different picture. They said Abate had brazenly violated his contract and blasted him for making clandestine overtures to Endeavor before leaving his job. The testimony got personal when Newberg suggested the real reason for his departure was his jealousy over a more worthy colleague’s promotion.

Neither Abate nor officials at Endeavor -- who paid for his attorneys during the court battle -- agreed to be interviewed. But other observers watched the clash with fascination.

“This was very important for Endeavor, because they want to play on the same level that others do in New York, to package literary material for their clients,” said a respected Hollywood producer, who asked not to be identified by name. “And it was also a contest to see who will control more books out of New York.”

Others saw the jousting as a cautionary tale for independent literary agents. After years in the business, they are savvy about book-to-movie deals.

Sandra Dijkstra, a prominent literary agent based in Southern California, recalled the first time she entered into a deal with ICM to sell a movie option on a client’s book. At that time, she felt that she was in way over her head and didn’t yet know the Hollywood ropes.

“I was sitting in [ICM chief] Jeff Berg’s office, and he had the biggest Rolodex in the world on his desk, and I remember him saying: ‘Don’t worry. We will take care of you,’ ” she said. “Well, they took care of me. They took my first fiction author away! I lost her!” (ICM had no comment on the incident.)

For an independent agent, Dijkstra added, it can be safer to cut a movie deal with an agency that doesn’t have its own literary wing: “And I don’t mean any disrespect to Endeavor. But with this new division they’re opening in New York, and their move into the book business, indie agents will have to think twice before dealing with them.”

josh.getlin@latimes.com