Let me set one thing straight, hoping or aspiring or attempting or even partially succeeding at being an actor, writer, producer, director, or whatever in Hollywood, is not a job. It involves work, yes, but it is not a job. A job is something you do during the day to finance the things you do at night. A job gives you health benefits. A job gives you a stable affiliation to something, be it a store, restaurant, company or corporation. A job is something you can clock out of. No, the entertainment industry is not a job, it’s a way of life.

You see, in The Industry, there is no clocking out. Building your life around the industry is a 24 hour a day (yes, sleep included… when you get it), seven days a week trek through the depths of your will and fortitude. To quote Jerry Maguire, working in The Industry is a pride-swallowing siege for which I will never fully tell you. Even though The Cruiser may be crazy now, he was dead on then. But instead of keeping it from you, I’m going to try and elaborate on what it’s like to chase your dream in Hollywood.

There’s a great scene in Robert Altman’s The Player where Tim Robbins is at lunch with all his industry buddies, and while he is lost in thought the rest of the group is busily gossiping about movies, celebs and other things that might show up in the pages of In Touch Weekly. So the group is jawing away and suddenly Tim jolts back in to reality and asks that for once they not talk about the movies, and instead talk about something, anything else. Everyone is quiet for a few seconds, completely thunderstruck that he made the request. The camera slowly zooms into Tim and with a withering smirk, relieves the table of his request. He laughs, shrugging the thought off, and the rest of the table breathes a sigh of relief. And in a nutshell, that’s what it’s like to live and work in Hollywood. Your entire being is consumed by this… thing, and you can’t look away, you can’t punch out, and you so can not stop talking about it.

I was with a group of industry friends the other day and we started talking about how hard it is to date outside of the industry. We all agreed that it is nearly impossible. Actors don’t necessarily have to date actors, or writers with writers, sound guys with sound girls, but you can not make your life with someone who isn’t involved in the industry in some capacity. It seems arrogantly exclusionistic, but it’s true, if you aren’t in it you just don’t understand. And you never will. I used to date this girl who only wearily supported my decision to be an actor. And when I would tell her about my dinky student film audition that I took the day off work to go to, that wouldn’t pay me anything and probably wouldn’t advance my career in any way, she would scoff at it and tell me I was nuts. But she just didn’t get it. It’s about the audition, not about the rest of it.

You must give the entirety of yourself to your dream. Anything less and it’s just not worth it (and probably not going to happen). There is too much to do, too many people to meet, parties to attend, e-mails to send, packets to put together, movies to see, scripts to read, and on and on, that if you don’t go at max speed then you’re kidding yourself. And this isn’t a singular thing; whatever you want to be doing, if you are serious about attaining it, then your schedule will and must be, full.

Let’s assume you want to produce. For all those who don’t know, this is what a fledgling producer must be doing to even get close to the shot at the opportunity to prove that he is worthy of the chance to produce something, anything. An aspiring producer must be: taking lunches with writers, and reading every script (optioned or not) that he or she can get their hands on. They need to be attending showcases, looking for potential talent. They should be attending every PGA event in the catalog, as well as every Arclight screening and Q & A that the majestic theater offers. They should be a member of JHRTS, and attend their panels. They need to make sure they are TiVoing every major network and cable show to keep up on current trends. They should also be watching every movie that gets released, and keeping an eye on what type of films each studio is releasing so they can get a bead on what type of movie they could pitch to them. They should be scanning the event boards on Planet Shark Productions to see what events might bring good networking opportunities. They should be at each of the major film festivals (Sundance, Toronto, Cannes, AFI Fest, LA Film Fest, SB Film Fest, AFM, et al), trying to pitch something, anything. As well, they need to be there to be seen. They need to be doing all that every single day. Oh, and they should have a full time day job so that they can pay for this life style.

Man, I’m tired just from writing that.

If you think I’m kidding, I’m not. I have very few connections in this business, have no projects in the pipeline, am not on a show right now, and my days are STILL full. Take my Monday for example. Here’s how it went down: I wake up at 8am, shower and shave, and am out the door by 9:15am, on my way to work. During the forty minute commute to my entertainment market research day job I am listening to Howard Stern and Kevin and Bean, I’m going over my day, cycling through potential blog post ideas to decide what I’m gonna write next, and at every stop light on Vine I was trying to solve a second act problem in the adventure script I’m writing. So I get to work, do my thing there until 12:30pm, then book it to AFM in Santa Monica to troll the two major floors and get a lowdown on what’s for sale, what’s been bought and what properties have the biggest buzz. I peep the wicked Rambo IV teaser poster, sift through the massive AFM-focused Variety, and then take in a panel about movie testing. On my way back to the office I do a phone meeting with fellow Grunt Talker Timmy so that we can do a post-mortem review of Sunday night’s podcast, and set up a dinner to go over the format for the next episode.

I’m back at the office by 3:30pm, do my thing for a bit, then have to jet to the CityWalk to handle some problems with a focus group, and see if I can catch the new IMAX 3D. I catch that and the Chicken Little 3D, and find to my surprise that Disney blows IMAX away. From there I head to my friends Bert and Jen’s place for dinner and a pitch meeting. Bert is pitching a sitcom to a money-man and needs to practice. I listen to his schpiel, and then we work on the concept and pilot script for two hours or so.

I finally get home around 8:30pm, wherein I catch the last twenty minutes of Monday Night Football, slap on my workout clothes, swing by the Mom’s house to pick up a care package and plan a family outing and then I head to the gym. I do a solid 45 minutes there, race back home, catch the last half of Medium, shower and eat. I pop in last week’s Smallville, West Wing and Grey’s Anatomy to catch myself up on TV, all the while answering e-mails, working on the site and reading the latest entertainment headlights from the fifteen news and gossip sites I check every day. All caught up from every angle I go over my tomorrow, make a mental to-do list and finally, with great effort, drag myself into bed. I fall asleep at 2:30am, dream about things I may use in future scripts, have a few happy dreams, snooze eight times and am back up at 8 am to start my Tuesday. And that is a day in the life of a fledgling writer/producer that has no projects in the pipeline and is doing little to advance this side of his career. Imagine if I actually had something real to work on.

And so it goes for someone trying to follow their dream in Hollywood.

Now let me be clear, I’m not writing this to show off, or to say that people in other industry’s don’t work hard, because they do. The point of this piece is try and explain why we do what we do. There are many reasons, motives and causes but basically it all boils down to two things, fame and money. There is a desert full of money to be made in this business if you know what you are doing, and further, it’s the type of money that has no stopping point. Hollywood money keeps on coming in residual checks until the day you die. And fame, well… everyone wants to be a star.

I do this because I love movies. And I imagine my reason is similar to many other people. When I was growing up I was shaped by many things and many people, but nothing more powerful than the silver screen. The images that flashed before my eyes caused an indelible impression on my ravenously creative mind. I wasn’t sure what it took to do it, but I knew I had to be a part of it. So I saw any movie I could get my hands on, watched countless hours of TV, read all the books, spent tons of time on the IMDB, and ultimately decided to spend my college time pursuing a degree in Film. All that is pretty standard stuff, knowledge easily attainable and executable.

But then you graduate from college, yours eyes big as saucers at the possibilities that lie ahead, and slowly but surely you realize that you have absolutely no idea how to go about being in the movies. So you just try everything. I was a PA, an extra, I did a stint in development, am now in market research, I review movies for magazines, I meet screenwriters, directors, producers and actors all the time, I go to panels and screenings and shows and festivals. I still read the books, still watch the shows and see the movies and spend the time online. I do these things, sometimes not even knowing why. I have no clue if it is helping, but I know I can’t stop. Because who knows? That’s the dirty rub about this business. You never know where the opportunity will arise; if that sleazy guy in the corner of the party is actually a successful producer with enough connections to get you your dream job.

Lightning can and will strike anytime and anyplace, so you better be ready. There are hundreds, probably thousands of people all competing for the same jobs, the same parts, the same dreams, so what makes you so special that you should be the one given the chance? My drive to succeed stems from my inability to answer that question. I know I am talented, but who cares, because so are many, many other people. I know I’m not better looking than all my peers, I don’t have a six-pack, don’t have connections from Daddy, I don’t drive a fancy car and I don’t have an Armani wardrobe. What I have is determination, and pride, and dignity, and fortitude, and the will to go the distance.

Why do we go through such hell for this dream? Because it’s the only dream we have. It’s the only thing we know how to do. And we’ll be damned if someone is gonna take that away from us.

What makes The Jay run? It is the endless possibilities, probabilities and opportunities that lie ahead of me every time I start a new day. It is that indefinable something that lies in the pit of my stomach that knows, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that I belong in this business. That I have what it takes to do what I love, and to do it better than anyone has ever seen before. It is the honor in knowing that I had a dream, that I followed it and I pursued it with all that was in me, and finally, at long last, attained it.

Bangarang!