My prize is getting to assistant editor:
Right now there aren't any opportunities to get there... but that is what I want.
Felix told me that the AEs on shows he's worked on make $200/day (or $60 more than I make right now). I'm sure pay is comparable in films.
But it's not just the money...
It's the chance to move up, take the next step, and learn more about editing. It's about me being ready to take the next level of responsibility.
As I look at this ambition, I want to start setting goals: Let's lay it out.
I'd like to be an assistant editor by: Jan 1, 2008.
1st Preference: TV or Film
2nd Preference: Commercial House (Whitehouse for example)
3rd Preference: Stay at Flyer
4th Preference: In-house dub room at Studio
5th Preference: Another larger trailer house
Anyhoo... there it is. I may start sending out my resume to places like Whitehouse again this summer. This is helpful to motivate me along the way... especially during those tough days.
Rock Chalk Jayhawk. Hello Elite 8 against my newtown bros UCLA. My heart is not in question, btw. I'm madly in love with KU. No doubt.
-C
Thursday, March 22, 2007
Saturday, March 17, 2007
days like these...
It's days like these...
I worked a 12 hour day, a 13 hour day, and a 14.5 hour day... back to back to back. Plus I finished a video for church.
Following my 14 hour day, I came to work to get yelled at b/c I made an error the previous day. A bunch of stuff happened over the last few days that made me want to cry or scream or break something. Somehow (by grace) I made it through the week alive and without seriously injuring someone.
I don't like my job at times. I hate that I'm marginalized and compromised by work. I constantly consider how little money I'm being paid (factoring in the cost of living). With work at ti's most stressful, I contemplate finding a new job. With people at their worst (including myself) I want to isolate myself from the world -- maybe that would prevent the anger and frustration of dealing with others.
But then I see a glimmer of what may be. I see a ray of light. I see the possibility of being part of something larger than myself. I see working with others for creative good instead of administrative bull. I see the fusion of art and business as it walks a fine line between chaos and confinment. I see Felix's show or my 300 spot and I see that there is escape from beaurocratic political entrapment. I see being involved in a project to the extent that a-holes and d-bags don't get to me.
When Josh and I were working on Birth Control, the whole crew came together and sacrificed for the good of the project. Maybe money corrupts the beauty of art and collaboration... But when I see these glimmers of hope, I get excited about the industry again. I get excited by Felix's show because I beleive he's found a story that hasn't been told... a story that is interesting.
It's days like these last few that I have to hold on to these glimmers. I have to beleive that God is teaching me something at my current position. Without the perspective on reality, the stress really gets to me.
I worked a 12 hour day, a 13 hour day, and a 14.5 hour day... back to back to back. Plus I finished a video for church.
Following my 14 hour day, I came to work to get yelled at b/c I made an error the previous day. A bunch of stuff happened over the last few days that made me want to cry or scream or break something. Somehow (by grace) I made it through the week alive and without seriously injuring someone.
I don't like my job at times. I hate that I'm marginalized and compromised by work. I constantly consider how little money I'm being paid (factoring in the cost of living). With work at ti's most stressful, I contemplate finding a new job. With people at their worst (including myself) I want to isolate myself from the world -- maybe that would prevent the anger and frustration of dealing with others.
But then I see a glimmer of what may be. I see a ray of light. I see the possibility of being part of something larger than myself. I see working with others for creative good instead of administrative bull. I see the fusion of art and business as it walks a fine line between chaos and confinment. I see Felix's show or my 300 spot and I see that there is escape from beaurocratic political entrapment. I see being involved in a project to the extent that a-holes and d-bags don't get to me.
When Josh and I were working on Birth Control, the whole crew came together and sacrificed for the good of the project. Maybe money corrupts the beauty of art and collaboration... But when I see these glimmers of hope, I get excited about the industry again. I get excited by Felix's show because I beleive he's found a story that hasn't been told... a story that is interesting.
It's days like these last few that I have to hold on to these glimmers. I have to beleive that God is teaching me something at my current position. Without the perspective on reality, the stress really gets to me.
Wednesday, March 14, 2007
This Business
I sit down and try to write but I instantly become bored with myself. I've tried to write blogs the last two weeks and I ultimatly get bored and quit them before publishing.
I'm bored because I need to write stories, not bland recaps of my recent history.
Barry, with a big, thick Boston accent and Irish-Catholic temperment, refuses to digress as he explains his theory on cutting a television spot (which is subsequently relalated to, in Barry's mind, everything else in life) in 'this business', as he says.
"In this business, copy is the fastest way to make a niche for yourself. You can make a lot of money if you can write this shit that goes in these spots. Not everyone can do that, you know? But that's not how it was when I was your age, Collin. No shit! Seriously! I'm not kidding! I came into this business as a P.A. and you know what happened to me?"
(I've heard this story or some varient of it at least three times)
"I was making $6 an hour, alright? Mutha fuckin' nothing. This was back in the 80's mind you, but still nothing. I had to work overtime just so I could get a free mutha fuckin' meal from work. You understand? I couldn't afford a meal on my own. I needed overtime to survive. And I decided that I was gonna teach myself editing."
"Now," (big smile) "this is before the days of this digital shit. Aight? Fuckin' reel to reel. Fuckin' big ass clunky tapes and shit. But listen, Collin, I'd come in on the weekend. I didn't have friends, ok? I just moved here from the East, ok? I made friends at work and all that, but I was going to teach myself editing. I'd go to the store and pick up a six pack and come in to the office and teach myself. Ok?"
(digress? Hardly!)
"One Monday I come in and my boss says to me, 'I heard you came in over the weekend.' He made me show him what I did. I didn't really want to. I said, 'No, that's okay. It's not worth showing'. But he made me show it to him. Then he made me a junior editor. Just like that! I went from $6 an hour to $15, which, you know, isn't a lot, but it fuckin' doubled what I was makin! And that's how I got started! Now, that couldn't happen nowadays. Back then this business was way different."
(slight pause as Barry rubs his face, thinking of a metaphor)
"Collin, it's like, if you think of the NBA back in the 50's... you know, little jump shots, layups, no shot clock, no 3 point line, and you put that next to the NBA now." (pause for dramatic effect) "THAT's how different this business is now from when I got started."
(I laugh at the thought of old NBA players playing LeBron and Kobe. Barry didn't know what I was laughing at tho...)
"No, it's true! It's the mutha fuckin' truth! It's like the NBA back in the 50's compared to the NBA now. That's how different it is."
(I assure him that his comparison is correct)
"It's like now, there's all these kids that are the heads of the studios now. They were under me when I was in my prime. It'd be like you under Mayhew or Shawn now. And now I'm workin' for them! They're the heads of maaaarketing at New Line, Paramount, Fox... everywhere. I know more than them, and yet I'm working for them! Can you beleive that? They have absolutely no idea what they're doing. I've been thru it. I know what I'm doing. You're telling me that when these guys have a bum project that they're gonna know what to do with it? No. They're not. They're gonna be my boss with a bum project and they're gonna be telling me what to do with it. Collin, do you understand what I'm saying? That'd be like me walking up to Barry Bonds and being, "Let me show you how to hit a homerun." Collin! He's about ready to break the homerun record! It drives me fuckin' nuts that these kids are now trying to tell me what to do! I've finished 47 trailers. Nobody else has finished 47 trailers. You add up everyone in this house and they don't add up to 47."
(Barry was an editor before he recently became a producer)
"Anyways, Collin."
(digression?)
"You gotta have strong copy. You gotta watch a movie and tell the story on paaapa. You gotta say, '300 must fight against a million...', that's not good copy, but you know what i'm sayin'? You gotta tell the story on paaaapa. That's your foundation. I try to build a house without that foundation, and it all come crumbling down. But, Collin, if I have that foundation, that story on paaaapa, my house will stand."
(maybe)
"And Collin, I want to see some of this in your spot."
(he pounds on his chest with his fist)
"I really want to see some of this in your spot. If there's not any of this in your spot, what's gonna separate you from all these other schmucks? Lemme tell ya, I've worked at all the different houses, alright? I was workin at a house and this guy from this other house gives me a call. He says, "Barry, I saw one of your trailas the other day." Now, I hadn't talked to him in years. Ok? He could tell it was my traila. He says, 'I just knew it was your traila." That was the best compliment anyone could give me. You know?"
(I nod)
"Anyways, just put some of this into your spot. I really want to see what you're made of. Let's say you put in the line (in my 300 spot), 'Everyone is held accountable for the words of his voice' because your dad said something like that to you when you were a kid. That's you. Put that in there. Build that foundation, though, Collin. Put that foundation in there."
(I nod)
"I've said this to all the young kids who come in here... You wanna sit and wait for your chance? Fine. It might take 5 years. Yout gotta come in and do it on your own time. You gotta learn what you can on your own time. And Collin, if you don't want to do this, then get out. Go get coffee at a production house. Do what you did here but do it where you want to be. You don't want to do this and then in 10 yeeeas be that guy who's saying, 'Barry, I don't want to cut trailers.' What? Are you gonna go get coffee at production house? You gonna take that pay cut with your wife and kids? So Collin, I don't know what you want to do, but if you don't want to cut trailers, then go do what you want. I just don't want you to be stuck in here in ten yeeas."
"I've got some stuff to do. Do you wanna leave together tonight?"
(a digression)
One time, Bryan had to go leave to get his car from a car shop across the street. When he left, Barry was talking to me. When he came back, Barry was talking to me. That's just how it is. I love it, though.
He can talk.
I'm bored because I need to write stories, not bland recaps of my recent history.
Barry, with a big, thick Boston accent and Irish-Catholic temperment, refuses to digress as he explains his theory on cutting a television spot (which is subsequently relalated to, in Barry's mind, everything else in life) in 'this business', as he says.
"In this business, copy is the fastest way to make a niche for yourself. You can make a lot of money if you can write this shit that goes in these spots. Not everyone can do that, you know? But that's not how it was when I was your age, Collin. No shit! Seriously! I'm not kidding! I came into this business as a P.A. and you know what happened to me?"
(I've heard this story or some varient of it at least three times)
"I was making $6 an hour, alright? Mutha fuckin' nothing. This was back in the 80's mind you, but still nothing. I had to work overtime just so I could get a free mutha fuckin' meal from work. You understand? I couldn't afford a meal on my own. I needed overtime to survive. And I decided that I was gonna teach myself editing."
"Now," (big smile) "this is before the days of this digital shit. Aight? Fuckin' reel to reel. Fuckin' big ass clunky tapes and shit. But listen, Collin, I'd come in on the weekend. I didn't have friends, ok? I just moved here from the East, ok? I made friends at work and all that, but I was going to teach myself editing. I'd go to the store and pick up a six pack and come in to the office and teach myself. Ok?"
(digress? Hardly!)
"One Monday I come in and my boss says to me, 'I heard you came in over the weekend.' He made me show him what I did. I didn't really want to. I said, 'No, that's okay. It's not worth showing'. But he made me show it to him. Then he made me a junior editor. Just like that! I went from $6 an hour to $15, which, you know, isn't a lot, but it fuckin' doubled what I was makin! And that's how I got started! Now, that couldn't happen nowadays. Back then this business was way different."
(slight pause as Barry rubs his face, thinking of a metaphor)
"Collin, it's like, if you think of the NBA back in the 50's... you know, little jump shots, layups, no shot clock, no 3 point line, and you put that next to the NBA now." (pause for dramatic effect) "THAT's how different this business is now from when I got started."
(I laugh at the thought of old NBA players playing LeBron and Kobe. Barry didn't know what I was laughing at tho...)
"No, it's true! It's the mutha fuckin' truth! It's like the NBA back in the 50's compared to the NBA now. That's how different it is."
(I assure him that his comparison is correct)
"It's like now, there's all these kids that are the heads of the studios now. They were under me when I was in my prime. It'd be like you under Mayhew or Shawn now. And now I'm workin' for them! They're the heads of maaaarketing at New Line, Paramount, Fox... everywhere. I know more than them, and yet I'm working for them! Can you beleive that? They have absolutely no idea what they're doing. I've been thru it. I know what I'm doing. You're telling me that when these guys have a bum project that they're gonna know what to do with it? No. They're not. They're gonna be my boss with a bum project and they're gonna be telling me what to do with it. Collin, do you understand what I'm saying? That'd be like me walking up to Barry Bonds and being, "Let me show you how to hit a homerun." Collin! He's about ready to break the homerun record! It drives me fuckin' nuts that these kids are now trying to tell me what to do! I've finished 47 trailers. Nobody else has finished 47 trailers. You add up everyone in this house and they don't add up to 47."
(Barry was an editor before he recently became a producer)
"Anyways, Collin."
(digression?)
"You gotta have strong copy. You gotta watch a movie and tell the story on paaapa. You gotta say, '300 must fight against a million...', that's not good copy, but you know what i'm sayin'? You gotta tell the story on paaaapa. That's your foundation. I try to build a house without that foundation, and it all come crumbling down. But, Collin, if I have that foundation, that story on paaaapa, my house will stand."
(maybe)
"And Collin, I want to see some of this in your spot."
(he pounds on his chest with his fist)
"I really want to see some of this in your spot. If there's not any of this in your spot, what's gonna separate you from all these other schmucks? Lemme tell ya, I've worked at all the different houses, alright? I was workin at a house and this guy from this other house gives me a call. He says, "Barry, I saw one of your trailas the other day." Now, I hadn't talked to him in years. Ok? He could tell it was my traila. He says, 'I just knew it was your traila." That was the best compliment anyone could give me. You know?"
(I nod)
"Anyways, just put some of this into your spot. I really want to see what you're made of. Let's say you put in the line (in my 300 spot), 'Everyone is held accountable for the words of his voice' because your dad said something like that to you when you were a kid. That's you. Put that in there. Build that foundation, though, Collin. Put that foundation in there."
(I nod)
"I've said this to all the young kids who come in here... You wanna sit and wait for your chance? Fine. It might take 5 years. Yout gotta come in and do it on your own time. You gotta learn what you can on your own time. And Collin, if you don't want to do this, then get out. Go get coffee at a production house. Do what you did here but do it where you want to be. You don't want to do this and then in 10 yeeeas be that guy who's saying, 'Barry, I don't want to cut trailers.' What? Are you gonna go get coffee at production house? You gonna take that pay cut with your wife and kids? So Collin, I don't know what you want to do, but if you don't want to cut trailers, then go do what you want. I just don't want you to be stuck in here in ten yeeas."
"I've got some stuff to do. Do you wanna leave together tonight?"
(a digression)
One time, Bryan had to go leave to get his car from a car shop across the street. When he left, Barry was talking to me. When he came back, Barry was talking to me. That's just how it is. I love it, though.
He can talk.
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