The Secret Of This Substack
Announcing my first feature-length golem.
When I was in college, my dad lucked into a plum gig running a vineyard on the North Fork of Long Island. For a while, it was great - he was good at it, he had genuinely innovative ideas,1 it was fun. And then…well, then he discovered a multi-million-dollar fraud and became a whistleblower for the FBI.
He wrote a book called PIRATE COVE2 about the whole experience, but here are the cliff-notes:
The company was run by a self-proclaimed genius, Alex Burns, who was only in his 20s. When asked how he ended up running a business of this size at that age, Alex answered: “Jesus with a telescope on Mars couldn’t figure out how I did this.” When my dad - notably not Jesus and not on Mars! - looked into that claim, he uncovered a $350 million dollar fraud. Next thing he knows, he’s wearing a wire for the FBI.
You can imagine why, on occasion, he could really use a drink. And that’s how I ended up spending so much time at Greenport Harbor Brewing.
Greenport is a great place - a big beer hall yoked to a green lawn that’s always filled with local kids playing Giant Jenga and neighboring dad bands plucking at old classics. It’s also a business founded by people who absolutely love what they do. They didn’t need money - the two co-founders were an attorney and an ad man in their past lives. They did this because they love it. That’s why it’s craft beer.
But why am I talking about craft beer on a Substack about movies? Well…here’s why:
If we’re entering a world of increased corporate consolidation, one where you don’t know whether you can make a middle-class lifestyle in film, one beset by con-men and pirates and liars, one where the only option is to go small, to follow your passions, to become non-dependent…
Well, I guess what I’m saying is that I’m starting a brewery and trying to bring Greenport’s values to it - doing what you love, doing it for love, involving the community around you. I’m writing this because, despite my lack of attorney or ad man money…I’m about to start brewing craft beer.
When I’m reading scripts, I tend to work out of the Tompkins Square branch of the New York Public Library because, if I sat in my apartment all day, I’d go stark raving mad.
There are a lot of characters at the Tompkins Square Library.3 But, a few years ago, I started noticing one guy. He was clean cut, young, friendly. He had a state-of-the-art laptop with a couple big stickers. And he was always carrying a giant hiker’s pack. It didn’t matter if it was the middle of the summer - he walked in hefting that pack. He’d drop it in the corner with a giant thump and then sit down at the table with me.
Eventually, I realized he was homeless. He wasn’t your stereotypical image of a homeless person - he looked like a yuppie working out of a coffee shop. But he was carrying that pack around because it contained everything he had to his name.
I started to think about this guy. Someone you don’t typically associate with homelessness. Maybe he’s hiding it. Maybe, in certain worlds he frequents, that pack is the only sign he’s struggling. Something about that idea felt rich and true and beautiful and sad. It seemed to say something about how many of us are struggling right now. About how many of us are hiding how much we’re struggling.
So I wrote a script. A small feature, something that could be made for cheap. A mystery where someone, already grappling with who she is as her twenties dwindle, begins to suspect and fear that her best friend is secretly homeless. It’s a love story - a love story for my particular neighborhood of New York, for that tension between your 20s and your 30s, for the way you can yearn for a friendship even as it drifts away from you.
It’s called WHERE DOES DAISY GO WHEN SHE’S NOT WITH US? And, if everything goes well…I’m hoping to shoot it this summer.
And while this is all great and exciting…I have to say that I haven’t seen that guy at the library in a while. I hope he’s doing OK.
So what’s this secret behind this Substack?
Well, there’s a guy here in New York - Salvatore La Rosa - who started a sandwich business out of his apartment. I learned about Sal in a video from Bon Appétit:
He’s a talented cook and a talented graphic designer, and he was able to build those talents into a thriving operation. He just had to do it via Instagram. He announces specials in his stories, takes pre-orders via DMs, and delivers it all in a delightful blue truck.
But here’s the kicker: you and I can’t order sandwiches anymore. Sal has been so successful that he shut down his digital business and now runs a brick-and-mortar restaurant in Queens.
That’s the secret. That’s why I - notably not a big social media guy - started a Substack. If Sal can use Instagram to go from passionate home cook to bona fide restauranteur…
Well, why can’t we all leverage the power of Substack to make movies?
I’m not saying anything original here - this is the power of FilmStack, of NonDē. I guess I’m just saying that I’ve seen what all of you have done - Ted Hope and Courtney Romano and Taylor Lewis and Avi Setton and Alex Rollins Berg and Jake Weisman and Kelli McNeil-Yellen and Amanda Sweikow and Victoria Michelle Miller and Charlotte Simmons and Alan McIntyre and Mark Hensley and too many others to name.
I’ve seen what all of you have done, and it’s made me think that maybe I can do it too. It feels like everyone on here has opened a door. And man…I better run through it while I can.
The first version of this essay has been sitting in my Substack drafts, half-finished, since before I published a single word here. The secret of this Substack is that I always wanted to do this - to experiment with using Substack to make something, to join Courtney Romano’s NonDē 50 army,4 to make something I’m proud of, to use all the resources and wisdom pounding around this platform. I didn’t feel ready for a while. Two things changed that.
First, all the know-how and inspiration that’s on here. Every day I get to read at least a couple ideas that make the big dream feel possible, feel tangible. Some days, it’s a tidal flood of them.
And second, I’ve recruited a team who - I’m as shocked as you - believe in this project and want to make it happen. They’re friends of mine, people I love, people I knew from college, people I worked with on TV shows. They’re people I trust, and we’ve started building a plan to make this thing. We have a first investment. We’re breaking down locations and building a board. We’re figuring out what specific texture and look emerges naturally from the story. We’re having a tone meeting next weekend.
There will be much more on this soon - I plan to talk through the challenges, the joys and what I learn here. There will be some sort of crowdfunding effort - exact details under discussion - and I would truly be honored for anyone to contribute.
But it’s put up or shut up time. I write all this stuff about writing here, about various films and film styles and approaches. Lot of opinions and smooth talk here, Bailey. Care to put your money where your mouth is?
Well...yeah, I think I do.
For the first time in the history of this Substack, I’m going to be entirely earnest in the subscribe button here. If you’re interested in hearing more as I embark on this journey, or in supporting my first grown-up, big-boy, feature-length Golem…
Well, subscribe here. I’d really appreciate it.
More soon.
Two words: Wine. Kegs.
See, dad? Told you I’d plug it.
There’s the guy who hand rolls cigarettes while looking at listings of puppies for adoption. There’s a very small woman who, every day, rents a laptop to watch videos of UFC fighting. And there is one person I frequently see in a hoodie that reads, in giant block font, ‘I ❤️ PORN’.
Threw myself into the spreadsheet this morning, general Romano.
Thanks for the plug. I'll donate the royalties from the book - if there are any - to the project!
I started my new Substack for the same reason, to eventually pivot to making films, so here's wishing you all the best and good fortune on your adventure!