When I was 29, living in rural, southern Oregon, I got my first production job. I worked part time, as a production assistant. at a local cable access studio in Klamath Falls. I loved that job. I was soon promoted to a full time position as the production coordinator for the studio. I arranged crew and researched topics for a talk show shot at the facility. I was in heaven. We hired a facilities manager who began training me to use the studio’s equipment. I had him show me everything he was willing to. I even learned how to hook up and trouble shoot equipment issues, which was his job.
After about a year, I knew the place like the back of my hand and I was promoted to studio producer. I worked on five staff shows. I was producing, directing and editing an average of three shows a week. I worked an average of 55 hours a week and had never been happier. I spent the bulk of my time writing and the remainder in production.
I won my first award for television that year, although I didn’t get credit for it. The next year I was promoted again to senior producer. The following year I was asked to head a project that would truly (at least I thought then) change my life and give the final push I needed to achieve my dreams. I was going to produce a children’s show that would play all over the state and ultimately the country.
As I began doing the preproduction work for the show, (set design, research and writing scripts) I stopped writing at home, for myself. As production started, I began working even longer hours and spending more time away from my son. When production began to wrap on the show I started submitting episodes of the program to festivals. I felt really good about the program’s chances. Over the next two months I didn’t hear anything, no acknowledgement, no recognition and no word. On the weekend we taped the final episode, I found a letter sitting on my desk as I walked into the office. It was from a national award program that pit local programming (i.e. access and public broadcasting) up against cable giants (i.e. Nickelodeon and HBO. It is the highest award access can get. It was simply addressed to the studio and I was certain that another producer at the studio had won something A staff field producer had submitted a really good piece about water shed and environmental concerns that had been affecting Southern Oregon and it had played nationally. I wanted to open it and surprise him.
I snuck out the side door of the studio and stood near the “talent” entrance trying to open the letter discreetly, as all of the shows “stars” were wondering in, greeting me as they walked past. I tore the envelope open and pulled the letter out. I scanned it for a name. It was my own. Confused I read the letter. My show had won. I began to tremble, clumsily stuffed the letter in my pocket and walked into the building. I cornered the production coordinator, withdrew the letter and asked her to read it. I remember the way she looked at me as she pulled the letter from the envelope. She looked at me like I had grown a third eye or she was trying to remember if I was illiterate. She read the letter and let out a yelp. I asked her if I had read the letter correctly. Again, I had a third eye.
The rest of the day was a blur. Everyone was excited. A few days, later another letter came from another organization. We had won again! I couldn’t stop smiling. I did interviews, attended an awards show and saw my work in a theater for the first time. I sent my resume to everyone I could think of. I talked to people about jobs with the BBC and Time Warner.
I became very disenchanted with the studio and most of the people around me. I appreciated what I had learned and the opportunity I had been afforded but I also wanted to move up. For one reason or another all of my job searching was unfruitful. I became depressed, lost the sense of self-worth I had so briefly enjoyed and came crashing back down to earth. I began to resent everyone and everything. I shut down and retreated back into myself. I made a series of interesting decisions (like moving to another city with no promise of a job and doing so on crutches after knee surgery.) Ultimately, I was able to reconcile these bad choices with a decent job and an opportunity to produce and direct, again.
The thing that I loved most about those jobs was the writing and the confirmation that I could make a living doing it. I finally and for the first time realized that I could really achieve something I wanted. It took me several more years, a lot more soul searching and this blog to fine tune it but I am right where I need to be emotionally and mentally. Now it is just time to get it done.