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Fade In On Reality

There’s a Los Angeles radio station I occasionally listen to, and a bumper message they sporadically play says, “Welcome to Hollywood! What’s your dream?” It’s no secret that scores of people move to this town every day, as they do New York and other entertainment and film centers, to try to break into the “biz,” to be discovered, to attend film school, to get an agent, to perform, to sell a script, to be seen, to be the one who discovers talent, to network, to land a great job, to find the right portal that’s going to transport them to the fantasy world they’ve been dreaming of. Some make it; many more don’t. Some have dream-come-true experiences and others leave terribly deflated and disappointed. And once in the biz, some will encounter more good experiences than not, and others will find that surviving in this industry is a struggle throughout their entire career.

But whether you’re someone who’s thinking of getting into the business, a film student or someone who has recently started working in the industry, no matter what you assume it’s going to be like, want it to be like, or expect, it’s going to be different than anything you’ve ever imagined—and most likely, much, much tougher! Being in this business, you will no doubt encounter some or all of what many of us have faced: the challenges, the joy, the politics, the excitement, the rejection, the camaraderie, the struggles, the fun, the frustration, the gratification, the disappointment, the adventure—the entire roller coaster ride of emotions wrapped up into one profession. And yet no one can adequately prepare you for what it’s like. No amount of reading or attending classes or seminars will teach you absolutely everything you need to know. Some of it can only be learned through practical experience and by sheer osmosis. More importantly, I can’t tell you exactly what it’s going to be like for you, because the experience isn’t quite the same for any two people. Having stated that, I can provide you with a thoroughly realistic understanding as to how the industry works and what it generally takes to become a contributing member of this realm. Because only when you fully comprehend what it’s truly like will you be equipped to make the best decisions and choose the career path that’s right for you—whether it’s in this business or not.

Having What It Takes

To succeed in this business, being smart, talented, creative and/or skilled in a particular craft (or two, or three) is not enough. You have to be special, to stand out, to be willing to sell yourself over and over again, to have the right attitude, temperament and per-sonality; to be willing to play the game and relentlessly do what it takes—not only to succeed, but to simply hang in there and survive.

Wanting “it” badly enough, truly believing it’s going to happen, imagining yourself in the job of your dreams and counting on the power of positive thinking will help, but it’s not nearly enough to get you there. You’ll need to develop a thick skin, some major chutzpah and be ready to kick major butt. Only the most motivated, determined, assertive, ambitious, ballsy and tenacious need apply. You’ll want to develop strong industry relationships, know how the business works, know how to get your foot in doors and how to get your name out there. You can’t be lazy or complacent and you must daringly venture far from the security of your comfort zone. You have to possess an abundance of passion, drive, enthusiasm, perseverance, patience, energy and confidence. You have to want it so badly, you can taste it. You have to love this business soooooo much, you can’t for one nanosecond imagine yourself doing anything else.

Reality Stings

Yes, many do become successful, famous and wealthy, but it’s crowded at the top of that ladder. There’s no guarantee you’ll reach the top of that much sought-after pinnacle, and if you do, that you’ll be able to stay there. And lest you think once you’re working in this industry, you’ll have a clear shot to easy street— think again. It’s not always so easy!

Yes, you can make some good money in this business, but for the majority of freelancers who don’t work all the time, that good money will sometimes have to last for quite some time. I bet this will surprise you: of the 118,000 members of the Screen Actors Guild, only 2% earn $200,000 or more per year; at any one time, 80% are not working (under a SAG contract); and 80–85% don’t earn enough to qualify for the Guild’s health and pension benefits, which require earnings of at least $11,000 per year.

The competition is brutal, and the demand for jobs has never been greater. For every opening, the line of people vying for that position is out the door and down the block (and sometimes, around the corner). Having recently spoken to representatives of two temporary employment agencies, each associated with a different major studio, both report on average that, of the approximately 45 to 50 resumes they receive each week, only one individual is placed into the studio’s temp pool.

More colleges and universities throughout the country are offering industry-related studies than ever before, and 30,000–40,000 individuals are graduating each year with associate, bachelor, master and doctorate degrees in Broadcast Journalism; Radio and Television Broadcasting; Radio and Television Technology; Dramatic/Theatre Arts and Stagecraft; Film, Video and Photographic Arts; Communications, Communications Technologies and Visual and Performing Arts. Legions of these newly trained and educated, as well as individuals who have never been to film school but have always dreamed of getting into the industry, flood into film centers (primarily Los Angeles) every day. Linda Buzzell, author of How To Make It in Hollywood (HarperPerennial) confers by stating: “The entertainment industry is now more ruthlessly competitive than ever. The world’s best and brightest in every job category—performers, directors, executives, technicians—are flooding into Hollywood in ever-increasing numbers.”

At the same time, we’re losing U.S.-based film jobs to other countries in alarming numbers; funding from the major motion picture studios is not as fluid as it once was; with the current popularity of Reality TV, the networks are producing less-expensive television shows with smaller crews; and there are fewer jobs to go around than ever before. What hurts the most is that even wellestablished, talented individuals who have been in the industry for years are having trouble staying employed.

The past several years, the issue of runaway production has been of major concern to our industry. This phenomena is defined as U.S.-developed feature films, movies for television, TV shows or series that are filmed in other countries for economic reasons. In addition to favorable exchange rates (which obviously tend to vary), several other countries offer attractive tax incentives and labor rebates, seducing U.S. productions by the budget reductions they offer. For several years, our country’s shows were primarily running away to Canada, but currently, Prague, Australia, Romania and Mexico have also become prime shooting locations, creating a noticeable decline in Canadian production levels as well as our own.

In the June 10, 2004 issue of Production Weekly (a subscription-based listing of all upcoming film and television projects), of the 52 feature films listed, almost 50% were slated to be shot in foreign countries. And of the 110 movies for all forms of television and miniseries filmed under a Directors Guild contract in 2003, 55 were reported to have been shot in Canada, five in Australia or New Zealand, four in Europe, one in Mexico and four in South Africa. That’s approximately 62% being shot outside the U.S.

A few years ago, the Screen Actors Guild and the Directors Guild of America jointly issued a report showing that the total economic impact as a result of U.S. economic runaway film and television production was $10.3 billion in 1998, up more than fivefold since the beginning of the decade. The report also estimated that runaway production cost U.S. entertainment industry workers more than 60,000 full-time equivalent positions from 1996 to 1999. The U.S. Bureau of Labor Statistics claims that, in 2001, between 22,500 and 36,000 jobs were lost. Jack Kyser, chief economist for The Los Angeles Economic Development Corporation, found a loss of 32,400 show business jobs in the L.A. area alone between 1999’s peak employment figure of 146,000 and the final 2003 figure of 113,600.

In addition to runaway production, every few years we collectively hold our breath waiting to see if the Writers Guild of America, Directors Guild of America and the Screen Actors Guild will be going out on strike. Should the membership of any one of these guilds vote to strike, thousands are thrown out of work for months on end and untold numbers of auxiliary businesses are adversely affected.

Suffice to say, the demand for entertainment jobs far outweighs the supply.

It sounds scary, doesn’t it? Well, you should be scared. Knowing what you’re in for is the only way you’re going to be able to decide if you have what it takes to even give it a good try. And if this is to become your chosen field, you’ll want to walk into it with your eyes wide open, armed with the tools you’ll need to give yourself a good, fighting chance.

Attend Film School or Jump Right In?

This is a question I’m often asked, and there is no right or wrong answer. I never attended film school but can see the advantages gained by those who have. Can you make it big without film school? Absolutely. Can you go to film school and then not succeed in the biz? Absolutely. This is a very personal choice.

Film school can be quite costly, but it provides a broad, well-rounded understanding of the industry, as it focuses on film history and theory as well as the teaching of many different skills and evolving technologies. Students generally walk away from school having learned at least a modicum of writing, producing, directing, acting, editing, cinematography, set design and so forth. It’s where you learn the ropes, learn about the equipment and make your own film. And making your own films while in school is great training. Many a student project has won acclaim at international film festivals or other competitions, some managing to attract the attention of studio bigwigs and agents. In addition to or instead of a film, students also often walk away from school with a terrific script (or two)—another formidable calling card with which to start their careers.

Networking is another advantage to film school, because after graduation, individuals in a position to do so may help, recommend or hire their former classmates whenever possible. Many colleges and universities also offer outstanding internship programs and job placement services. And on-going support frequently comes in the form of extremely active and helpful alumni associations.

Today, in addition to entertainment attorneys, many top industry professionals hold law degrees, as opportunities do increase for those film/tv/communications majors who opt for even further education.

On the other hand, while a film school education generally proves beneficial to those who want to write, produce and direct, it may not be as practical for someone whose career goal is to become a transportation coordinator, a special effects coordinator or a location manager. An advanced education may not be as necessary for someone wanting to be a casting director, script supervisor, production coordinator, stunt coordinator or key grip as it is to someone wishing to be an editor, cinematographer or production designer.

If you’re still in the “contemplating” stage, consider going to one of the fine schools in Los Angeles or New York—at least for a semester or two. I have nothing against the wonderful schools everywhere, but if you’re serious about wanting to be in this business, you’ll get so much more bang for your buck learning your trade in a city that has a large show biz community. You can take advantage of the many networking organizations, seminars, trade shows and other industry-related events L.A. and New York have to offer. Through your school, you’ll have access to internships with major studios and production companies, which will be advantageous to have on your resume when entering the job market. You’ll be exposed to the business and meeting people who work in the business, so you can start building a solid network for yourself before you ever graduate. It’s definitely something to consider.

A film degree will provide you with a tremendous learning experience, and while it may enable you to make better connections, understand more or move up faster, it’s no guarantee. You may be oozing with talent, proficient in any number of skills and the creator of a number of brilliant student films, but without the free equipment, free help and built-in support system, the reel world might just as well be located on another planet. And as much as you think you know, there’s still a level of expertise that can only be attained by way of practical experience. So unless your first job is that of making your own movie, you’ve landed a great first position by way of nepotism or a law degree has earned you a junior executive slot—plan to start at the bottom and pay your dues. Check your ego in at the door and expect to be treated as any other entry-level employee—whether you’re a film school graduate or not.

As advantageous as a film school education can be, I’ve seen individuals graduate with such a keen sense of entitlement, or such unrealistic expectations or ego-driven attitudes, they often crash and burn without ever reaching their destination. I’ve witnessed other film school grads who are incredibly talented but fail to establish themselves because of their deficiency in networking and/or political skills.

Then there are those who, like me, never attended film school. I landed in the business by accident, and once there, never wanted to leave. Some don’t attend because they can’t afford to and still others are too anxious to wait a moment longer than necessary to jump right in and learn as they go. While a part of me has always missed not having had the more well-rounded education and in-depth exposure to aspects of the industry beyond my area of expertise, there have always been opportunities to continue learning. Extension and short-term evening courses, seminars and books are plentiful to anyone wishing to take advantage of them. For those of us in production especially, vendors such as Panavision and Technicolor offer seminars and tours of their facilities, while smaller vendors, upon request, are generally quite amenable to educating both customers and potential customers about their equipment and services on a more one-on-one basis. I’ve also learned a lot just by asking co-workers to explain how they’ve achieved or are planning to achieve a certain shot, a design, a mood, a sequence, an effect, a look or a scene.

My best education has always been in the doing. Having worked on Titanic and In Dreams, I learned many of the ins and outs of shooting in Baja, Mexico, and had a crash course in international shipping. Working on Titanic, In Dreams and The Thirteenth Year, I learned much about filming in water. On Florida Straits, my knowledge of post production increased. On Hot Dog, The Movie, I perfected the skill of thinking on my feet, and my job at Orion was a good lesson in politics. Whether it’s been working on a show that involves a railroad line, a circus, a racetrack, an athletic team or daredevil stunts—each job, each show is an opportunity to continue learning.

Making Coffee Instead of Movies

One of the biggest misconceptions people have upon graduating film school or just deciding to get into the entertainment field is that because they are bright, talented and creative and may know how to stage a scene, load a camera or edit a montage, they should be able to land a job as a producer, director, cinematographer, editor, production designer or some other notable position, and that it shouldn’t take longer than six months to a year to achieve this worthy goal. It happens that way occasionally, but rarely. No matter how incredibly talented you are and how many student films you’ve made, you’ll most likely have to start at an entry-level position and work your way up—a process that may take longer than you anticipate. Your entry-level position will most likely be that of someone’s assistant or apprentice, a receptionist, a production assistant (PA) or a mailroom clerk. And as menial as the job may appear or feel or be, think of it as the first step toward where you want to go–a means to an end. It’s fairly obvious that most entry-level employees are way, way, overqualified for washing coffee cups, pushing mail carts, making deliveries and photocopying scripts; and while you might find this work ego-deflating, remember that many of the most successful people in this business have started this way, having learned from the bottom up.

I’ve seen my share of PAs who start their first show by walking in with such an overblown opinion of themselves and their talent, they’re offended when asked to file or make coffee. A very wellestablished producer I know told me when interviewing candidates for an office staff job recently, a young man made a specific point of telling him he didn’t make coffee. The producer told the candidate if he himself could make coffee when necessary, his entire staff would be expected to do so as well. He told the young man if he wasn’t willing to pitch in and do whatever it took to keep the production office running smoothly, he wouldn’t be considered for the job.

It’s not a question of having abilities that surpass that of making coffee, it’s all about paying your dues. Too few people grasp the concept of paying dues; and what’s worse, they’re rarely told they have to. Walking in unprepared and being faced with an indefinite future filled with menial tasks, some people become so totally disillusioned or adopt such a resentful attitude, they sometimes quit or are let go before they wake up and get it. And some are just never asked back. They think because they’ve been to film school, because they’re brimming with creative vision and energy, because they’re bright and ready to play with the big boys, they should be exempt from tedious daily duties, such as filing, answering phones, delivering scripts, picking up lunches, keeping the office stocked with supplies or standing by a stage door for hours on end to make sure no one enters. Some think they’re entitled to publicly criticize others, ask to leave early, make lengthy personal phone calls or whine about something they’d rather not do. Wrong!

It’s also not uncommon to see individuals move to Los Angeles or New York with a conviction that they’re going to be “discovered,” some so sure, they rarely make an earnest effort to learn about the business, perfect their craft or do their homework. And then there are those who find someone interested in their ability, talent or script, and their sense of importance becomes so overinflated so rapidly, they frequently deal themselves out of the hand before the game has even begun. These situations usually lead to profound disappointment, embarrassment and the conviction that it was someone else’s fault.

I see these mistakes being made all the time, but on a more personal level, I didn’t fully comprehend the concept of paying dues when I started either. Luckily, it was explained to me before it was too late. While working at my second industry job, I found myself exasperated and complaining to a co-worker. I was spending a great deal of time every day running personal errands for my boss—getting her coffee, getting her lunch, going to the bank for her, etc., etc., etc. I was bright, had some previous experience and felt that these tasks were a tremendous waste of my time and abilities. My friend just looked at me and asked, “Are you ready to make the big decisions and negotiate the deals?” I had to admit I wasn’t, to which he replied, “There are only two of you working in that office. If one of you has to make the deals and one of you has to get the coffee, and you’re not ready to make the deals yet–where does that leave you?” Bingo! He actually made a lot of sense. It was such a basic premise, yet I had been so caught-up in resenting all the errands I was being sent on, I hadn’t been able to figure it out on my own. (So much for being bright!) Until I was ready, I would have to be the one to get the coffee.

The trick is to be the very best PA, runner, receptionist, apprentice or assistant that ever existed. Short of being totally abused or exploited, don’t whine or groan when asked to do something you don’t want to do. Accept tasks willingly. No one is asking you to do anything just to make your life miserable. If it has to be done and falls within your sphere of responsibility, you don’t have much choice. You’re there as support staff, and your job is to provide the support, whatever that entails. Don’t complain. Everyone is busy, and no one wants to hear it. Be a pleasure to have around; be a team player; and if you have any extra time, volunteer to help others with their work. Everyone will agree that you’re wonderful, and they’ll all want you to work on their next picture or will want to take you with them to their next job. And in time, your talent and abilities will be recognized, and you’ll have the opportunity to move up.

You’ll never stand out, or truly “make it,” unless you’re willing to put in the extra effort, to keep learning, to perfect your craft and to keep your ego in check (at least at the beginning of your career; and hopefully, always). You can’t assume anything, much less that you’ll be instantly discovered. If you are—great! What a nice surprise that’ll be. But those opportunities come along rarely.

If you can only remember one thing when starting any new position, it’s this: if you don’t shine on the job you’re on, it’s doubtful you’ll be recommended, asked back or anyone on your current job or show will want to take you with them on their next job or show.

On the film Joy Ride, we had a production assistant named Jonas. It was only his second film, but he was one of the best PAs I’d ever worked with. When you’d ask Jonas to do something, no matter what it was, he’d always smile and say, “I’d love to do that for you!” to which I’d always laugh, because I’d rarely ask him to do anything worthy of such a response. But he never felt that anything was beneath him, and what he did love was just being there. He came in early and stayed much later than expected and was always there to pitch in and help everyone.

I had hired one of my ex-students, Tiffany, to work on the same movie. Tiff also had a great attitude, worked hard, got along with everyone and was eager to help, no matter the task (she’d make jokes as she walked around the office emptying trash cans each evening). She had the greatest personality and was able to make us all laugh. You could easily see how bright she was, and when the show was over, our location manager was able to get her onto his next film as an apprentice. Within two years, Tiffany was in the union as an assistant location manager.

Susan was recommended to me on a cable movie called The Thirteenth Year, and what a lucky day that was for me. Not only was she willing to do anything that needed doing and not only did she have a great attitude, but she was always one step ahead, anticipating my needs as well as those of the entire production office and volunteering to handle certain tasks before the request could even leave my lips. I took Susan on my next show with me and then again whenever I could. We became friends, and I’ve continued to admire her eagerness to learn, knowledge of the industry and remarkable networking skills. Her career has taken off in a wonderful new direction, and as I would expect, she’s doing extremely well.

Of the thousands just starting out in the industry each year, individuals like Jonas, Tiffany and Susan are rare. And it’s those who are exceptional (like them) who will always be in demand and move up the fastest. So unless you’re willing to anticipate the needs of others, make the coffee, empty the trash, answer the phone and do whatever else is needed—without resentment, without complaint and with a smile on your face—you may not get asked to work on anyone’s next show or be recommended for any other job. And remember—sometimes all it takes is one person who thinks you’re terrific to ignite your career and set it in motion.

Every job you’ll ever have, from the very bottom on up, is an opportunity to learn, cultivate skills and relationships and soak up valuable information from everyone around you. Each new experience will become part of your continuing education, and how well you do once you’re in will more often than not depend on the effort you’ve been willing to invest in your future.

Be prepared to pay your dues—to start at the bottom and work your way up. Give yourself time to learn, to learn how to learn more, to network and to gain experience. This priceless on-the-job training will make you better at whatever it is you ultimately end up doing.

Hollywood Means Business—Know Why You’re Here

For most of us, getting into this industry is a dream come true. If you can establish yourself and can make a decent living at it, consider yourself lucky to be working at what you love. But not everyone makes it, and you have to know when it’s not right for you, in spite of your dreams. Honestly ask yourself:

• Can I handle the instability?
• Can I handle the politics?
• Am I up for the constant networking?
• Is my skin thick enough?
• Can I live this lifestyle?
• Do I have the endurance to work extremely long hours (while under constant pressure)?
• Can I deal with other people’s tempers and egos?
• Do I mind giving up time with family and friends?
• Can I handle extremes?
• Can I handle the waiting and not knowing what’s to come next?
• Am I willing to play the game?
• Am I willing to boldly venture outside of my comfort zone?
• Am I up for this roller coaster ride?

Several years ago, I heard that one of the major studios had an opening for a production executive, and I wanted to apply. A friend who had worked there for quite some time, however, flat out told me not to. She said I wouldn’t be happy there, the politics were vicious and she didn’t think I had the temperament to survive that environment. Her exact words were, “they’ll chew you up and spit you out.” At the time, I wasn’t quite sure what that said about me, but since my friend was fairly intuitive, I took her advice and didn’t apply for the job. It took me some time, however, to appreciate her wisdom, and she wasn’t the last to suggest I might not be “shark-like” enough to swim in this ocean.

Not all studios, production companies or agencies, however, foster that type of environment (although many do), so it became a question of finding the right fit for myself—knowing which companies I wanted to work for and which people I wanted to work with.

There is such a large variety of entertainment-related jobs out there, and they all require different types of personalities, temperaments and thresholds from their employees. So not only do you have to decide if this industry is right for you, it’s also a question of finding the right fit within the industry. Each situation, company, job and show is different; and obviously, I’ve been able to find people to work for that don’t treat office politics as an Olympic sport. Once you have a good sense of yourself, what you have to offer, where your boundaries lie and what you’re capable of, you’re well on your way to establishing a career for yourself.

Having a good sense of yourself is a great start, but know, going in, why you’re choosing to accept any one particular job. Whether you’re making a lot of money or working for free, working at a dream job or starting in a mailroom, working with a great team of people or for a screamer, working reasonable hours or 18 hours a day, being appreciated or working for people who don’t know you exist—it doesn’t matter, as long as you’re getting something from each and every job you take. It could be the experience, the fact that you’ll move one step closer to your goal, the chance to move into a better position, the opportunity to learn, the screen credit, the opportunity to build your resume, the chance to make valuable contacts, the money, the prospect of working with a certain actor or traveling to a particular location, the opportunity to work with a producer or director you admire, the pride of working on a meaningful project or just for the fun of it. It could be for more than one reason, but understand why you’re there and what the payoff will be for you.

I once worked on a project that, up front, seemed fairly straightforward. It was a low-budget ski movie that was shot in Squaw Valley, on the north shore of Lake Tahoe. Our luck, it just happened to be the worst winter that area had seen in over 100 years. There were blizzards and white-outs, and the weather changed so often, we couldn’t stick to our schedule for more than a half-day at a time. We were supposed to have two units shooting concurrently, but every day it was hit or miss with the weather and our schedule. On more than one occasion, our crew became stranded out in storms and white-outs. Our office trailer was parked next to and tied-in electrically to the local ice arena (where we stored much of our gear), and one day, the roof of the arena collapsed from the weight of the snow. The trailer shook as if we were having an earthquake, so we grabbed up a few essentials and evacuated the area for a few days, quickly establishing a new office in one of our rented condos (without most of our gear and paperwork). Then early one morning, while blasts were being set off in an effort to avoid avalanches, a piece of shrapnel flew through our trailer, barely missing the face of one of our staff members. The night before we started shooting, our leading lady became ill and couldn’t work the next day. The snow was so high one morning, some of us couldn’t get out of our front doors. We were almost evicted from the hotel, because one of the actors brought a dog that created havoc. The topper was a beautiful private home where we shot for three nights. It took all the charm the location manager could muster to convince the reluctant owner to let us shoot there. When she finally agreed, he promised that we’d take extra safety precautions. We even bought brand new white socks for everyone on the crew to wear, so they could take off their shoes when they got there. We covered everything not being used with special tarps and laid floorboard out wherever possible. Unfortunately, there was a short in the equipment one night and sparks started flying. Our sparks burned holes in imported rugs and custom-made cabinets; and all in all, we created about $40,000-worth of damage to our horrified homeowner’s pride and joy.

While we seemed to experience at least one catastrophe a day, we managed to keep shooting. But every night, I’d drag myself back to my room after working progressively longer days, getting less sleep and having to solve more problems. One night in particular, while in a very sleep-deprived state of mind (feeling as if the weight of the world rested on my shoulders), I questioned why I was doing this to myself. Was it for the money? I wasn’t making much at all. Was it for the privilege of working on this particular movie? No. Was it for the appreciation and the accolades I was receiving for my part in helping to keep everything running in light of our sequential run of disasters? No. There was no time for that. The entire production team was so concerned about getting the picture finished, we were all pretty much in the same boat, and everyone was tense and tired. After some agonizing thought, though, I finally decided I was doing it for myself, to prove that I could. I realized that in spite of my extreme weariness, this was something I was good at. My revelation included the fact that I no longer had to sell myself short or doubt my abilities. And since that show, I’ve always had to have at least one good reason for taking any show.

It’s a toss-up as to which was a more difficult show for me—that small ski movie or Titanic. Titanic was difficult for an entirely different list of reasons, the least of which were the excruciatingly long hours, the political atmosphere of the production, the extreme personalities I worked with and the overwhelming demands of the show. While working on it, I hoped for months on end that someone else would call to offer me another job so I could quit, but it never happened. It was a time when I needed the good paycheck I was earning every week—every week for 15 months. I stayed on the film because of the money. It was as simple as that. But as it turned out, I’m very glad I did, and many good things have since come from it.

Just as you should understand why you’re taking any particular job, you should have a broader understanding of why you’ve chosen this business to begin with. You know (or should have gathered from this chapter alone) how difficult it can be. And no one wants to work that hard at succeeding; work that hard at any job; have to deal with job instability, rejection, constant challenges and difficult people unless they have a very good reason. What’s your reason? Do you truly love this business? Do you find it exciting? Is it the potential for money and fame? Has this been your life-long dream? Is this the form of artistic expression you’ve chosen for yourself? Do you thrive on constantly changing work environments? You’re the only one who can answer the question as to why you’ve chosen this profession, and it doesn’t matter why, as long as you know and understand the answer. Throughout your entire career, people will ask you why you decided to get into this crazy business; and it’s the passion and conviction of your answer that’s going to keep you motivated and help you succeed. Success often comes to those merely because they never give up on their dreams and goals. And constantly reminding yourself of why you’re in this business could very well carry you the distance. See Chapter 19 for more on how to remember why you got into this business to begin with.

Do you have what it takes? Do you thoroughly understand the obstacles? Are you fully prepared to pay your dues? Do you know why you’ve chosen this line of work? If so, then follow your dream, and give it your all.