The Carrot in Front of Your Face

Our whole industry is based on a Bugs Bunny Cartoon. That silly wabbit was constantly being led around by a carrot on a stick placed strategically just out of grasp, though it seemed so close. This is the very essence of Hollywood and why thousands of people – from the homecoming queens to the techie geeks – swarm towards Los Angeles every year. And it’s why people who have been here for 5, 10 or 15 years, stick around, even if they have yet to find success, money, or fame. We all come out here with these five year plans – mine was to become a TV writer (oh well) – but when five years comes and goes in what seems to be a blink of an eye and you’re nowhere near where you thought you’d be…you have to find something that keeps you going. Enter, the Carrot.

We’ve all read the piece in Variety about that boy from the Mid West who graduated college, moved out to LA on a Friday and sent his first script (which he wrote in two weeks) to his old roommates’ friends’ brother who happened to be an assistant at William Morris, who loved it, brought it to his boss, who also loved it, who gave it to a junior exec at Imagine or Bruckheimer or some studio one week later, and BAM – that lucky fresh off the boat fucker is eating so many carrots his face turns a lovely shade of orange.  But for most, it’s a much longer chase. 

When I moved out to LA just a few months after graduating college, I came with a few suitcases, a few thousand dollars – most of which I spent on my car – and tons of good friends who had also made the transition. And we used to all hang out at alum-friendly bars and have parties and reminisce and commiserate. And there were probably a good 50 of us from my graduating class (or the year preceding us) that while we all weren’t close friends, we felt this connection and we were always happy to help each other. Since that time, probably 60-70 percent of them have since left the business or moved back East. And it wasn’t because they couldn’t hack it – it was because they stopped caring about the carrot. They stopped visualizing it. Some just stopped enjoying chasing it. And others realized it wasn’t the right carrot for them. For some, their carrot included family, babies, and buying a house instead of isolation, long hours and eternally renting. I don’t blame them. And while I miss some of them, the rest of me is happy they are gone because it means there’s one less person chasing that damn vegetable, so perhaps my odds just got a bit better. 

This infinitesimal possibility is what keeps us all here. Because you just don’t know when or where or how you are going to get that big break – but it’s coming. Maybe it’s this next project you find, or write, or direct. Maybe it’s this little indie project you acted in for free. Maybe it’s this new assistant job for a bigwig studio exec. You just never know. The entertainment industry is really the only industry where you can be working 70 hour weeks for $450/wk one month and be a millionaire calling your own shots the next. And we all think it will happen to us. And just when you start realizing that it’s not going to…your best friend signs a multi-picture deal at a studio or her pilot spec gets bought or he books a role in a studio movie…and then you’re faced with an even bigger problem – trying not to hate your friend.  But that’s a whole different story.

I know I’m supposed to be the bitter blogger – and I am. But in some ways I’m just as optimistic and hopeful as the rest of the inhabitants of this crazy town, because while I have yet to be paid what I’m actually worth, I can feel it coming. And I’m not leaving until I at least get a taste of that delicious carrot.