I came to Los Angeles in the fall of 2003 with my first draft screenplay and a list of industry contacts most established producers would die for. I had scavenged the Brown University alumni website and scheduled meetings with every exec, writer, producer, director, and agent I could find. I figured they could give me advice on which path to follow if I want to make it in the movie business. I hoped maybe they'd take an interest in my fantastic screenplay about the Galveston Hurricane of 1900, the greatest natural disaster in American history...but they didn't. I thought maybe they'd offer me a job, nothing fancy, sweeping floors or grabbing coffee...but they didn't. What they did do was make me feel like I knew somebody in the industry. They answered my questions and gave me advice. One exec even sent me an invitation to his birthday party on the Strip. How I must have looked amongst that crowd, with my printed out Writer cards, attempting to pitch my script over the din of dance music. Hopefully I didn't stand out as much as I think I did.
Unfortunately, the parties, the meetings, the coffees and brunches led to a whole lot of squat. But I was optimistic. I had set up these connections so down the line, when I knew what I was doing and what to ask for, I could call these folks and they'd remember me and they'd be impressed. Hopefully. So I dove in head first. I got my hands on the
UTA joblist, made Craig and his list my new best friend and began my path to becoming a successful writer. I started out temping at New Line, where I filled in for Kent Alterman's assistant during the filming of
Son of the Mask in Australia. Then a friend of mine at E! got me a production assistant job working on a show that never got picked up. Then, around March of 2004, I got an internship with Scott Rudin. I knew nothing about Rudin at the time, which was probably a good thing. All I knew was he was BIG and it was on the Paramount lot. I was so excited.
Around the same time I got an internship working at Laurence Mark Productions on the Sony lot. Larry Mark is one of the few exceptions as he was one of the execs who let me come in and pick his brain and he did give me the opportunity to work at his office. I believe he is one of the nicest guys in the business. So anyway, six months into my stint in Hollywood and I was working for two major producers on actual movie lots! Pretty good, huh?
One year later...
I went back to Texas for Christmas and one thing about a small town is that everyone knows your business. People began to point out with great frequency that I had been in LA a year and I hadn't sold a script, wasn't writing for a TV show and shouldn't I move home soon. A couple days after Christmas I had the Plan B discussion. If I didn't find something to support myself and find it pronto, I was gonna be cut off. I had until summer.
To be continued...
Lessons fly at us in abundance when we eager-beaver film students seat ourselves across from industry professionals and with as much eloquence as possible drool at the insights they are willing to share with us.
Making movies is hard work. Somehow these people have endured and sacrificed to get to where they are and are still pleasant human beings. Unlike the rep these industry professionals receive sometimes, everyone of our guests have been genuinely nice people. How do they do it? That is what we aim to dig up at
Life After Film School. Come hell or high water at the end of the hour I will walk away with nuggets of information to apply to my aspirations.
Interestingly enough the biggest lesson I've learned in my career at
LAFS is that the majority of successful film makers did not attend film school. Do you hear that? That is the sound of my student loans crying. Okay that is not the biggest lesson, but it was certainly a big impression which stuck with me and has been the cause of many sleepless nights. Should I quit school and start shlepping for the industry? Would that be a head start?
I have been fortunate enough to work as a camera assistant/camera utility for the last year or so. All the great people I've met on many sets (many people who did attend film school) have also attested to the sentiment that I should quit film school. Couple months ago I found myself on the set of Martin Scorsese's new film for several days doing camera utility. This was not first unit so Mr.Scorsese was not there, but he was instead hooked up to a live feed from New York on a monitor. I stood there and watched him eat lunch as he waited for us to set up the shot. He ate pizza on his couch. This is a man. Merely a man. Flesh and blood like you and I. Yet somehow when this man eats pizza he is able to create a gratifying life moment for a young little film student like myself. Everything he has accomplished during and after film school has made him into an entity, an icon. How does he do it? Raw unbridled talent, yes. But he also went to film school. Martin's life after film school seems to be going pretty well and I'd like him to finish the sentence
the most important thing someone should know before graduating from film school IS?
Working on Life After Film School has been a phenomenal experience and I have learned a great deal, but one of the most invaluable things I have taken from the show so far is this: You have to sell yourself--as a person, a filmmaker, and a colleague. What a lot of film students, especially screenwriters, tend to overlook is the fact that although we wish we could live like Thoreau and escape to the woods and write in a bubble of our own creative intentions, we have to face the big, bad world of Hollywood. No one comes knocking on our doors if we do not proactively represent our work and ourselves.
What that means: we have to interact with producers and studio execs, other writers, and sometimes directors and actors as well. And most importantly, we have to know how to pitch. For those unfamiliar with the word pitch, it is a term which signifies that a writer convince another party on the merit, marketability, and badass-ness of a particular project such as an original screenplay. We not only have to be writers, we have to be actors and businessmen. Each pitch meeting is like an audition, except you're the only one who knows the lines.
Life After Film School has aided in preparing me for such auditions. The numerous call-back auditions for a spot on the show forced me to become comfortable with a camera and, in a sense, market myself as a worthy participant. The episodes themselves helped me forge a professional persona and made me feel at ease with professionals in this industry, even those who I totally admire (and may still get a little star struck for - like Mr. Rainn Wilson).
Participating on the show has provided me with the courage to let my inner confidence emerge and has shed some light on the fact that big name actors, writers, directors, and producers are people too, like me. And what's more - they have been through the very trials and tribulations that I, as a recent film school grad, find myself in: pitching to producers, trying to find that next job, and essentially dealing with the reality of this business. They are me. And that is a huge relief. It makes me think that we are all in this together. Hollywood may be a scary, cruel, mercurial place, but we have all had or will have a round in Dante's Inferno. And hopefully, in the course of our careers, we will all have a round in Shangri-La.
During my time on LAFS, I have learned that Hollywood is a business of cogency. It is in our best interest to convince others that our projects need to get made, that the industry will benefit, that viewers will benefit. This cogency all starts with attitude.
I may have a great team of agents and a fabulous manager behind me, cheering for me in the stands, but they won't be in the room with me when it comes time to pitch. Moreover, they would not be as zealous about helping me land work if I didn't believe in myself first and foremost.

In the interest of using this blog to educate and inspire something in others, I
will use upcoming posts to share some of the lessons I have learned in my two
short years in Hollywood that have become my career-defining rules. Life After
Film School has certainly helped to stress the importance of this
idea.
CAREER RULE #1:
SAY WHAT YOU WANT. There is certainly a fine
line, but when you want something from someone, say it. I would like you to
read my screenplay. I would like for you to be my mentor. Are you available
for lunch or coffee so I that I can pick your brain? Of course, begin with I
admire you and your opinion, so... but you need to be upfront because people have
very little time.
I am a huge fan of building relationships. I sometimes think
If I make this big-time agent like me by sending a quick email every now and
then, maybe in a few months, I can ask him for X favor. Just ask. I did,
indeed, meet a major agent who I had admired ever since I heard his story for
the first time - a Howard University educated lawyer, now SVP at an agency. We
met, exchanged information, and 2 days later, I put it out there: Can we have
an informational meeting and would you be willing to speak on a panel I am
putting together? I was nervous, but I hit the send button. Granted, he is a
phenomenal and gracious human being, but he immediately obliged me on both
requests. Lesson learned. Just ask.
On Life After Film School, we
interviewed Barry Josephson, the producer of Like Mike, Hide & Seek, Enchanted, and the upcoming Aliens in the Attic. This man just plain blew my
mind! He had done so much in his lifetime. He has been in music and in movies,
a studio exec and now a producer, but what captivated me about him was very
simple: After all of his success, more than 20 years producing television and
film, the many lucrative and popular movies and shows, when he talked about his
film Aliens in the Attic (all of the kids in one family have to defend their
household and the entire planet from alien invasion), his eyes lit up! I was
awestruck by this seasoned producer and man who became so excited at the mere
prospect of this story that he completely perked up! To me, that was phenomenal
to see and it reminded me just how important it is to be passionate about what I
am doing and the stories I choose to tell.
Barry also mentioned that he
was found. He was persistent when getting in touch with a producer he met on
the street in Los Angeles. The producer met Barry when he was young and visiting
LA and the two of them shared an interest in music. He told Barry to call his
office, but when Barry was unable to reach the guy on the phone after several
months, he went to the producer's office and got hired. It was a testament to
being knowledgeable about what you want and prepared at the same time. It won't
always happen this way, know that your competition is fighting for the job they
want, so it is important and necessary to be able to state what you want when
asked.