Saturation

There's a reason why common things are not as valuable as rare ones. Something that can be bought or found or seen anywhere creates very little demand.

The same is true of actors, directors, and the like.

A good actor that is seen in one film a year, or maybe even only every couple years, who makes himself scarce, is a treasure. (Note that I qualified this by saying s/he is a good actor.) One who is in four films a year and then also on television? Groan. Such a person appears desperate for attention, and viewers quickly become indifferent to, if not outright sick of him or her. Oh, there might always be hardcore fans, but on the whole the world at large becomes blind to the everyday actor who is constantly in its face.

It's rather like a child at a family reunion who gets up to put on some kind of show—often unbidden—and then refuses to yield the makeshift stage for Cousin Paulina. You know what happens, right? The family watches for a few minutes then goes back to whatever they were doing to begin with, chatting and whatnot, until they disappear one by one, going in for dinner, and the child's spirits diminish as the audience shrinks.

If you are in the industry, you do not want to saturate the market. You don't want to sprint. You want to run a marathon. You want to be in it for the long haul. You don't want people to be sick of you, of hearing your name or seeing your picture in tabloids, before they even see your actual movie or television show. They'll develop a hatred of you even before they see any of your work, will walk in with a preconceived notion that will not be to your benefit. So pace yourself. Else you'll be a flash in the pan.

It's harder now than ever, with so many magazines and everyone on Twitter. But remember: the more you say and the more you're seen, the cheaper you become. Don't overwater the lawn; give them just enough to grow on and not a drop more.