While many people (myself included) will extol the virtues of making your own content, no one knows how to get it seen. And trust me, I’ve asked everyone. I’ve talked to the creators of 40 series, 10 talent representatives, and 25 creators/leaders in other spheres and I’m sent here to tell you from the other side of the Ethernet cable: No one has The Good Advice.
People will exchange platitudes that make success—or lack thereof—easier to swallow. “I just got lucky.” “When it’s hot, people can’t stay away from it.” “Just keep trying and making and eventually something will stick.” Lots of people offer advice that boils down to eat less, work more, pay yourself less, sleep in your car more. And I continue to be floored that this is The Good Advice and apparently, no one has anything better to say about creating your own content.
So here I am, an unsuccessful success story ready to tell you how to do it. Buckle up.
Talk about stuff you’re interested in.
The first season of my series is about dating. At the time, I was interested in anonymity and small episodic structure. The second season is about sexual development and falling in love. The last season of my series is about a girl being haunted by the ghost of her best friend. Can you guess what I was interested when I started writing each?
Be honest.
Talk about the disappointments. You’ll be shocked how many people claiming to be living their dreams find your content relatable.
Know what your “dream” looks like.
If your dream is to go viral or be at Sundance or be on Upworthy or use your passion project to get your crush to notice you or to just try something out, the design will be different. Let the project carry you where you want to go.
Realize no one is watching.
As a “hardened series creator,” I’m now often solicited for advice and I find myself saying the same crappy stuff others have re-gifted me over the years. In talking to many of these new creators, what I find most often is that they hope their work will “make a splash.” Not to the bearer of horrible news, but that’s not going to happen. It’s a devastating thing to know and admit, but it’s something you need to be realistic about.
Be brave.
Right now, with so few listening and watching, you might as well take risks. Cry. Be self-effacing. Talk dirty. Do that 10-minute scene where no one talks. No one is listening, so what do you have to lose?
Protect your team.
When you find the blissful, mad others who believe in you, be good to them. Let them win. Be ready to compromise on time, money, and art to keep your faithful team with you.
READ: The 4 Things You Need to Create Your Own Content
Offer bad advice.
Take the coffee dates meetings. Take the phone calls. If you have to keep it short because you’re busy, let them know. Make time for people who want to learn. You may just end up being someone’s hero.
Get insurance.
General Liability will do. Seriously.
Don’t pay for space.
Someone you know always has an in.
Pay people.
You’re adults. If you want to be paid, you should pay other people. The rate, however, doesn’t need to be industry standard.
Recognize that people will give you bad advice.
The bad advice will come in many forms. Listen to it and let the waves fall over you. When they’re done, let the bad advice run down the drain. If it sticks, maybe it’s not bad advice.
Be ok with the fact that you will ask stupid things.
I have asked three legitimately famous people to produce my series. How stupid is that?! But once I get someone else’s email, I’ll probably do it again. (See #5.)
Do it again and again and again.
When it doesn’t work out, it’s devastating. But do it again and again and again until you are numb to disappointment. Crashing and burning artistically isn’t that scary once it’s happened before. Get it over with as soon as possible.
I look forward to seeing your show on HBO.
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and do not necessarily reflect the opinions of Backstage or its staff.
