Not gonna lie, was going for the most click-bait title here - but it is true.

I’ll never forget getting the email.

The main water pipe burst in my Las Vegas apartment and my partner, and two dogs, and I had to move into the Luxor. (Shoutout to the Luxor for being so kind through what was an AWFUL situation).

I was sitting at breakfast, refreshed my email, and it came down.

The dream.

My jaw hit the floor, and I instantly texted my partner-crime-aka-co-writer, Cat Yudain.

IT. WAS. HAPPENING.

A few weeks later, we got on the meeting, not sure what to expect, but after hours of going through our pitch and prep again, checking over everything to refresh it, we logged in to confirm what has been stirring for so long.

It’s so funny, how we look for validation in this industry. With every step, whether it’s an actor, a writer, a producer, a director, or whatever, it’s “when will you be on Netflix?”

“Where can I see you on TV?”

Every normal person or family member can only quantify success by something recognizable. “I’m artistically fulfilled” is not an acceptable or tangible answer.

While I am so proud I had the opportunity to work for Disney and play my dream characters in a dream scenario, it’s not the “thing” that makes me the most proud. To this day, Disney and national tours are the thing that “legitimize” me as an artist, actor, singer, dancer, etc, even though my job was to learn how to impersonate someone and always stand on the correct number so the light hit me properly or I didn't fall through a trap door. Then, I fell down a bridge, ended up in an ER, and had to relearn life - and through that healing and learning, I truly re-discovered creating.

It completely changed the trajectory of my life. No longer was I just trying to pursue being on Broadway, but I wanted to create something that mattered. Covid hit. The strikes hit.

I realized in that time, that I loved creating new characters, new IP through film & television rather than just recreating characters in popular broadway musicals and remounts and regional theaters. Leaving tangible “success” was terrifying. I have friends with steady paychecks who have worked for Disney for 10+ years. My dad finally legitimized my career and decision to go to musical theater school after seeing my paycheck for DCL.

Long story short, I realized I didn’t want to spend my whole life impersonating other people. I want to CREATE. I shaved my head for an indie film that I felt deep in my soul was timely, life-changing, challenging, and honored experiences that dear people in my close circle were going through. Shaving my head lead me down the rabbit hole of discovering the House of Mercy and girls that were committed by fathers, brothers, lovers, the police, etc and were punished and “controlled” by shaving their head. This lead me down a deep rabbit hole, especially with some of my religious upbringing of being shamed for being a dancer.

I approached Cat Yudain with the story I was fleshing out, knowing it was bigger than a feature, and she brought the magic sauce it needed to SPARK. We wrote the pilot furiously.

I’m not usually like “OH SHIT” this is such an incredible idea (most of my ideas fall by the wayside quickly cause I am like meh) but I believe we created something special… something DIFFERENT. Something that is equally entertaining and thought-provoking.

But then comes the reality of the shutdowns, the consolidations, the economy, the strikes, tariffs, inflation, late-stage capitalism and whatever else you name. We wrote the pilot. We did a table read. We submitted to festivals. We started writing the novel to own and have a paper trail of our IP. We received a lot of rejections from writing competitions, film fund contests and reaching out to reps.

But our big win came getting into SeriesFest Pitch-A-Thon and getting extensive feedback and validation for our pitch and how people could visualize it, how timely it was, and how cool it was. We gave our series bible to people who could move the needle.

The more I read and watch what is happening in Hollywood, the less I care to be a part of it. But of course, coming back from SeriesFest - the questions fly from family and other creators. “So, who wanted it?” “Are you going to be on TV?” “What happens next?” As much as I want to be strong, my heart sinks, not knowing how to articulate how much the Hollywood we thought we knew has changed. Could you imagine shows 20+ years ago being pitched today? Would they even be made? When everything rests on a stock price or a guaranteed “hit” what would we be missing? What writers would never have careers? What show-runners would quit and become creative consultants or marketers because they “couldn’t make it” and “didn’t have a proven track record"?”

With nothing tangible to share, it’s impossible to not want validation from the system in the form of money. And I LOVE Mark Duplass and that he said “fuck it” but I don’t have Morning Show/Mark Duplass money to make this in the same way.

I’m starting to care less and less about being validated by a system that won’t take any risks, refuses to try any flavor but vanilla, and buys each other up. It’s getting SCARY to see how few options we have.

I love a web series as much as the next person, but there are only so many favors you can pull, so much free labor and “passion” you can ask for, and there is a cap for how good something can be in that system.

My favorite ice cream place is called Cockeye Creamery in Ohio. It’s so good, they catered my wedding. Yes, they have won awards for vanilla, and serve other known flavors. But what they are REALLY known for, is the crazy amalgamation of “There’s no way that goes together” flavors they come up with. They test it, see if it works, and if it’s a hit, it comes back each season. It keeps people coming back, both to have their last-year favorites, and to see what new flavor they can test.

At our meeting, many of the theories running through my head turned out to be true.