I don’t complain about much. I’m good with long hours, I don’t mind working a little harder to get a show in good shape and turned in on time. I can even handle parking blocks or even miles from a location and cramming into a shuttle with 7-23 other people to get to set.
Being asked to work as a local states away from home, however, bugs me.
What that means is finding (and paying for) a place to stay when you’re many hours from home, sometimes out of state or even the country working on a project. It’s not uncommon in reality’s non-union universe, as it saves the production company money on their most tightly-budgeted shows.
Of course, for most people, it means shelling out for rent or hotel out of their own pocket. That is, unless they happen to have an accommodating friend or relative near location who’s willing to put them up for weeks or months as goodwill slowly wanes after too many nights of rattling keys in the lock at two in the morning.
I actually enjoy the road, though I’ve become fairly post-production-centric as the years have rolled by. I live on the edge of Los Angeles, but have been put up on location over the years in great places like New York, Northern California, Vancouver, Nashville and even Texas on shows that not only provided me with a roof over my head during production, but usually a polite per diem (usually $30-40/day) to cover the cost of eating and purchasing incidentals.
It can be a lot of fun to be away from your hometown, but unless you’re able to secure a rate that makes it worth it to you, working as a local is, in my opinion, best left to the actual locals.
Reality friends: Have you had great or tough experiences working as a local or hiring people willing to work as locals?
Let me tell you about an eight-year lesson I learned in reality television: Don’t chase checks.
The first three years of my career, I worked for Cris Abrego and Rick Telles nonstop. I started as a logger/transcriber, spent time as a story producer, logged a few weeks with the locations gang looking for spots to film episodes of FEAR, and they kept me working. Three straight years of employment, those guys gave me.
Then, after The Surreal Life, I moved on to Next Entertainment and did two seasons of The Bachelor and one of The Bachelorette. I wasn’t part of the in-crowd there, and I had to prove myself to a new bunch of people all over again.
After The Bachelor, I worked on a pilot for a show that eventually led me to Dancing With the Stars in 2005. Guess what I did there? Proved myself again to a new group of people. If I hadn’t left after two seasons, I’d probably still be there now… but I turned down a third season for the chance to supervise a team and broaden my skill set. After leaving, I had to prove myself to yet another group of people at Authentic, heading up the post story team on Flipping Out.
Hopping from one opportunity to the next in an attempt to leap up the ladder or boost your rate means taking new risks. What if you and the EP don’t see eye to eye? What if you end up being scapegoated for the team’s troubles? A million things can go wrong… and the trolley might completely stop.
I’ve been lucky in that I’ve survived minor nuisances along the way and continued to work, but I also, in the current reality environment, miss the heck out of the sense of job security that becoming a go-to producer in one place provides. Five seasons of Basketball Wives (and two of Basketball Wives LA) kept me going for three straight years at Shed Media.
What multiple seasons of several shows translates to on your resume is that you can be relied upon. You can jump from show to show to keep busy, but there’s nothing like being able to convey that you can be counted on to deliver.
Why work so hard to pay your dues over and over and over again when you can show people an extended period of reliability? I have one friend who’s been on the same show since she graduated from college 25 years ago, riding her reputation all the way to an Executive Producer slot.
Pay your dues, but try not to put yourself in the position to have to pay them again every time you jump to a new employer. Looking for the exit door at the end of a single season over a tiny little $100/wk raise might hurt you more in the long run than it helps.
I’m a basically happy guy, and only a couple of things ever really get to me in a way that messes with my default mood.
Dealing with the occasional insecurities of other people who need to tear others down to fulfill their own power fantasies is one of those, but what are you gonna do? It’s Los Angeles.
The other? The never-ending critical war on reality television.
I’ve been working on getting past both of these things, and I think it might finally be time to let it go. You can’t make anyone think differently than they do about shows they won’t even watch any more than you’ll ever be able to convince your mother to try sushi, another craft that takes years to perfect.
How do you know you won’t like what you don’t try?
I can share the findings of studies that show that girls who view reality television more readily see themselves as leaders and role models among their peers.
I can tell you that you haven’t seen anything until you see what goes on behind the scenes of artfully directed and choreographed live reality-competition broadcasts like Dancing With the Stars.
I can tell you that one of my favorite media scholars (one of the world’s most respected, in fact) has stated time and again that it’s about the audience use of the characters and that virtually no one is looking at the villains of any work on television and saying things like “I want to be just like that.”
But none of it is going to alter the opinions of people whose chief aim in life is to hate everything.
Thus, I withdraw from the battlefield and back to the business of just trying to figure out how to make the shows I’m on better than they might deserve to be. I’m going to keep my head down and apply my hard-won story knowledge to making sure that you can follow a story, cheer for your heroes and boo your villains. I’m not going to resort to making the good guy always right or the bad guy always wrong to appease people in media who insist that reality shows have “too much conflict.” I might, however, point out your hypocrisy in supporting scripted shows chock full of violence, sex and language while you’re creating a big hullabaloo over someone throwing a glass of water or getting crafty to undermine someone they’re competing with.
I’ll close with this fun fact: No one who has ever used the Kardashians as a show emblematic of bad TV at one of my lectures has ever subsequently admitted to watching even one episode of any of their shows. Their full opinion on the family is reliant on TMZ and tabloid gossip.
Wait, did I say I’m letting all of this go? Maybe I’m not quite there yet. But I’m trying.
Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go for a barefoot walk in the grass and work on my breathing.
With hundreds of hours of television in the rearview mirror, you’d imagine that it would get easier for me, this business of promoting myself among my peers. Truth is, it can still be tough.
I’m very big on gentle reminders… the occasional email here or there, a lunch invitation between shows to catch up with those I’m often too busy to connect with in person or those who are hard to connect with unless it’s over a quick bite near wherever they’re working.
Others in the business go big. A successful Executive Producer pal of mine threw a birthday party for herself this weekend at a trendy venue designed to hold about 35 people. Many multiples of that number showed up to pack the little space, invited guests including company owners, network execs, and other busy colleagues who knew it would be a fun opportunity to reconnect with each other as well as wish the birthday gal a great night.
However you choose to stay in touch with colleagues, do it. I moved to the outer edges of Los Angeles last year, so I find it more important than ever to remind people that I’m around, as individual gigs can take me out of social play for months.
There are plenty of ways not to keep in touch. Bulk emails letting people know you’re available for work actually breed resentment much of the time. If you want to let people know you’re available in social media, do it in code. I might announce that I’m “wrapping a project for some really terrific people” and let those I’m connected with put two and two together rather than straight hit them up for work. If there’s something coming up, I’m sure they’ll call.
A personalized (not bulk) email with an updated resume attached is also a nice way to go. Let people know you have an out date coming up and you just wanted to be sure they have an updated version of your resume in case anything’s brewing where they’re working.
No matter how you approach keeping your name in play, don’t just drop in digitally when you need work. Cultivate those relationships. The continuity of your employment depends on it.
In an effort to boost pre-orders for the second edition of REALITY TV, which would make my publisher very happy, I’d like to offer a free PDF copy of my book AND ANOTHER THING: A BEGINNERS GUIDE TO THE TV NOTES PROCESS to anyone who orders the book online or through their local bookseller up until the release date, June 1. Simply order the book and then drop a line with “PREORDER OFFER” in the subject line to me at realitytvtroy[at]gmail.com so I can reply with the PDF attachment.
If you’d like a signed copy of REALITY TV, just order one through me at the full cover price of $24.95 and I’ll mail you one, shipping included, within a few days of the book’s official release. To do so, just drop an email (with your mailing address included) reading “SIGNED COPY” in the subject line and I’ll send a PayPal invoice your way.
Finally, if you’ve been considering spending consult time with me, I’ve got an offer up at the IfOnly.com site for a two-hour dinner consult at Hollywood’s Musso and Frank Grill (meal-inclusive up to $150/person), a one-hour follow-up call, and a signed copy of the book. A portion of the proceeds goes to the Red Cross.
Around that time, I’m sure to be slammed with consulting requests and loads of questions. Not that I’m complaining at all – it’s really thrilling to work with you one-on-one to develop your ideas into more commercially viable concepts, but it’s always a little disheartening when someone pays me good money for consulting, then wastes their time asking questions that are clearly answered in the book, which costs about ten percent of a single hour of consult time.
I value our time and your wallet more than that, so please – check out the book first! I promise you’ll like it, and if you don’t, you can always use it to shore up that wobbly coffee table.
In addition to Reality TV, there are other resources available. For example, Screenwriters University offers online courses based on the book. You can click HERE to see which ones are coming up. Many people find these to be a good way to go as the course assignments come with weekly review and input from me online. No, not a robot or another instructor. Just me!
If you can’t make it to any of my speaking engagements, there are also a number of archived webinars available through The Writers Store HERE. Just like my seminars, I always start out with a rigid outline that quickly relaxes into much more informal back-and-forth conversation with those who participated in the initial webinars.
And, while I know I’ve put it out there often, there’s always REMEMBER, WE’RE NOT HERE, my seldom-updated podcast series interviewing other reality professionals on their experiences in front of and behind the lens. You can find free episodes on iTunes or at Libsyn.
But wait, there’s more. You can hear my thoughts on a number of aspects of reality television production on YouTube. Film Courage spent several hours with me to come up with these short subjects.
Filmskills.com features a number of modules for purchase that cover specific areas of reality production. Guided by Emmy, Telly and CINE award-winning host Jason J Tomeric, these modules, in addition to being informative, also feature my terrible attempt at a moustache.
Once a year, Full Sail University inducts six alums into its Hall of Fame, inviting previous inductees back to speak to students on everything from our personal journeys and professional accomplishments to the state of our industries. This year, for some reason, was an especially emotional one for all of us… though I’m unsure why.
At one point, I found myself sandwiched on a panel between Joey Morelli of EA Sports and Sebastian Krys, a guy who has more Grammys than I can count, offering the oddball advice to remember that your career shouldn’t be the only thing you have at the end of the day when the lights are off. I consider my “career above all” attitude a huge mistake made early in my career that I’m only now correcting.
Was that the kind of advice students want to hear? Maybe not. But I’m sure that very few of them were thinking 20 years down the road in terms of family and work/life balance.
Here are several bits of the best unexpected advice I’ve received about the entertainment business from colleagues (Full Sail Hall of Famers and others) over the years:
THERE IS NO DOWN TIME IN AN INTERNSHIP
(From a Grammy-winning producer)
It’s on you to develop your skill set and keep moving forward.
When this producer got the chance to intern at a major recording facility in Miami, he spent what other interns would consider “down time” accessing the studio and learning as much as he could on his own. At one point, he even invited performers to come in and record with him so he could get the experience of working with talent. Soon, he went from being the young guy that producers didn’t want on the board in their sessions to being in high demand with big producers and artists.
WHEN YOU MAKE IT, REPLACE YOURSELF
(From another Grammy-winning producer)
This one, I’ve only just heard. I was hanging out in a hotel lobby with two incredibly talented, award-winning producers/mixers when one started to talk about artists managing other artists. The problem, he said, is that some artists are afraid of the artists they break becoming bigger and better than they are.
That should be the goal, he continued. There should be no limit to what knowledge you share with those you bring up behind you.
THE FOUR RESTAURANTS RULE
(From a producer with nearly 60 years in the business)
In Los Angeles or whatever city you do your business in, choose two nice restaurants and two cozy dives. Eat at those places when you go out. Get to know the names of the people who work there.
Any time you get to suggest a spot for lunch or dinner with a client or talent, take them to one of the four restaurants. They’ll see you being treated with respect and it’ll impress the person you’re meeting with.
(From a producer of a wildly successful 90’s-00’s film franchise)
I once asked a producer what the best advice he could give to a mid-career guy like me was. He asked me how I told people to “f*ck off.”
I had to confess that I didn’t know how. He asked me to tell him, so I did.
“All wrong. Put your hand on your stomach. Now smile at me, and say it while you hold the “f” for about four seconds.”
(Try this at home before you read on. Fun, right?)
“What that does is say that you caught the guy in a lie or taking advantage of you or whatever. But you said it with warmth. It gives the guy a place to go. It tells him that this isn’t going to be a yelling match, and that the conversation is over… but that eventually, this might blow over or he can make it up to you later. It’s not final.”
THE THROWAWAY HANDSHAKE (From a former partner at a major agency)
I was a very small fish in a very big room when I met this guy. Sometimes you have people hanging around you that monopolize your time, anchoring you in such a way that you miss out on the chance to circulate and say hello to everyone.
This guy (and he’s done it to me) smiles and extends his hand to say “nice talking to you,” connects with the other person’s palm, then continues to extend his arm or simply starts walking forward before breaking the handshake. It physically drives the person away from him as he bustles off to the next hello, placing a friendly but undeniable period at the end of a conversation that’s dragging on.
(From a director)
If you just read the “throwaway handshake,” here’s some advice about how not to get one.
When meeting someone for the first time at an event or a space packed with other people, introduce yourself as if you are in transit and just wanted to take a moment to say hello. This tells the person that you’re meeting that they won’t be seeing you for long, so they can enjoy the brief interaction to come.
Let them decide how long the conversation will be.
(From a television producer I met while still in college)