Follow The Shadow

The music you hear in the video is an all-new original theme for The Shadow, composed by longtime collaborator Josh White. He and I have been working on this reel for about four months, and I’m pretty proud of the way it turned out. I think it’s the best trailer we’ve done together.

For the video, the goals I set for myself were:

• highlight my 15+ years of filmmaking experience

• in a way that demonstrates to The Shadow fandom the look and feel I’d bring to my adaptation

• and do it all in about 60 seconds.

As I explained to a coworker, I want to show I know how to make films.

“I’m not a nobody,” I said. “Well, I mean, I am a nobody.”

“You’re a nobody with some credentials,” my coworker said.

I like that! I might add it to my bio.

Do you think the reel accomplished the goals I set? I’d love to hear your feedback.

On a personal note, I was laid off this week from my “survival” job. I’ve been a Writer/Producer in the Creative Services department at a TV station for a little more than 12 years. Of course, part of me wants to be angry about being let go, but the truth is that broadcast has been struggling in recent years. The logical part of my brain saw the writing on the wall quite a while ago.

Still, it sucks.

You know, I’ve been working hard the last couple of weeks to finish the sizzle reel for the October newsletter. I was excited to share it with you all, and take the next step in making The Shadow. Now, I’ve lost my job, and it makes me wonder: What does this mean for The Shadow fan film?

Nothing. That’s my hope.

Obviously, I’ll have to look for a new job, but up until now, I’ve done everything while working full-time. All that’s changing is that my new full-time job is looking for work. I’ll keep making The Shadow in my free time.

Also, a friend of mine pointed out that I should keep working on it if it makes me happy, and it does. As I said, I was really excited to share the sizzle reel this week. I’m going to try not to let losing my job spoil that excitement.

With that said, I hope to reveal the promotional image for The Shadow Kickstarter page very soon. Of course, I’ll share it here in the newsletter first, before anywhere else. Outreach to The Shadow fandom will intensify after that.

If you haven’t followed the film on Kickstarter yet, please consider doing so now:

Follow The Shadow

Just click the “Notify me on launch” button.

Finally, I wanted to share a few articles I wrote for my Substack. My post “What I learned from the actor who threatened to steal my movie (in my own home!)” got more views than my last newsletter. Here are a few you might be interested in:

Thanks for reading, and I’ll speak to you soon!

Sincerely,

Jacob

Suddenly, I felt pulled in two directions. Do I stay excited and act like nothing happened for the benefit of the newsletter, or do I acknowledge all the uncertainty I’m feeling? The decision needed to be made immediately. I found out about my job yesterday, and the newsletter is scheduled to come out tomorrow.

I’ve decided to acknowledge it. Tomorrow’s newsletter will address my layoff and what it means for The Shadow. But I don’t want to detract from my excitement in sharing the sizzle. I am proud of it, and I want to focus on that.

Follow it here

My friend Ryan Lathrop, a man who was the biggest cheerleader for his friends and who left us much too soon, once said of me: “Imagine how many movies Jacob could have made by now if he liked mumblecore. But he likes Sam Raimi and Doctor Who.”

In my 15+ years of filmmaking, I’ve often underestimated just how ambitious my ideas are. I tend to write scripts with lots of characters, costumes, monsters, props, special effects, multiple sets and locations.

When I write, I don’t think about production constraints. I don’t start with a budget and work my way backwards. I write what I want to make.

And what I want to make is often challenging. It’s hard enough making an indie film with no money, let alone a blockbuster-type spectacle.

For Real American, my last project, an episode I wrote takes place at a political rally. On the day we filmed that scene, the number of extras who turned up was disappointingly low. We used a variety of tricks to try to make the crowd look bigger than it was: we shot tight shots, filmed the same people multiple times in different costumes, and composited stock footage into the background. We did our best with the compromises we had to make.

Just a couple of years later, generating a political rally using AI is not only possible, but it’s much easier than staging and filming one. Heck, AI could do much of the filmmaking process more easily. But I don’t find inspiration in how easy something is. That’s not why I’m doing this.

I’m not saying I’m against using tools to make the process easier. A laptop with Final Draft is a tool. A tripod is a tool. A VFX plug-in like Mocha is a tool. And I’m okay with using machine learning the way Corridor Crew did to make keying green screen footage easier.

My issue is when a tool is presented as a solution, and it replaces the process entirely.

I love writing. I love sets, and costumes, and physical props. I love collaborating with people who have their own insights and talents, who surprise me by taking this thing from my head and turning it into more than I could have ever imagined.

So yeah, AI might be easier, but whether something is easy isn’t really the point. The point is doing what you love, cliché as that sounds.

On top of that, The Shadow, for me, is about recompense. It’s about creating paid opportunities for the people who donated their time on my past projects. It might be cheaper to use AI, but how does that help the people who’ve helped me?

Maybe I’ll use Mocha’s AI masking tools for roto or Corridor Crew’s AI keyer, but I will not use AI-generated text, images, or sounds. If The Shadow gets made, it will be a human-made film.

After all, Walter B. Gibson wrote 282 novels about The Shadow, and he did it all without using AI.1

I have a bust of Abraham Lincoln...I always keep it in my office, and everybody says you have it there because he was such a great man, an emancipator. No, no, I have it there to remind me that an actor killed him. (Richard Donner, Television Academy interview)

This is a true story. Names have been omitted, mostly to protect me.

We were doing ADR with an actor (gender-neutral term). ADR, or Automated Dialogue Replacement, is when you have an actor re-record lines separately for the movie because maybe there was too much noise in the original recording, or you need them to say something else to make an edit work. YouTubers Chris and Jack have a great sketch about how it’s overused to fix plot holes in films.

No money for booking an audio booth, so I’m set up at home. Typical guerrilla filmmaking. We’re about ready to record when this actor learns something about the film’s future that they don’t like. They flip out and demand that I do as they say, or they will pull their image from the film.

“You signed a talent release,” I point out.

“I know more lawyers than you,” the actor responds. They threaten me with a lawsuit.

Then they say that if I don’t meet their demands, they will steal my script and change all the names.

In my own home, this person threatened to plagiarize me.

“I will slit throats to get ahead in this business,” this actor actually said to us, like a cartoon villain.

I was livid. But also caught off guard. I never expected anyone would tell me to my face (with witnesses present) that they were going to steal my creative work.

This incident taught me that talent releases are good, but they’re not enough. If you don’t cover all your legal bases, opportunistic people will take advantage of that opening. They’ll use that to exploit you in your own home, and then ask if anyone has any muscle relaxers. I know because it happened to me.

So, what should you do? I’m not a lawyer, so I cannot give legal advice, but I can tell you what I’d do differently If I Could Turn Back Time, and what I do now to protect myself a little bit more.

What I’d do differently

When collaborating with a group, I’d make sure that we clearly define in writing everyone’s role, their stake, who owns what, and who has deciding power over each part.

Lack of clarity basically killed the film I’m writing about. For instance, people were signing legal documents about my IP without my knowledge or consent. Now, I don’t believe everyone involved in signing those documents had nefarious intentions of cutting me out. Some of them probably thought I didn’t need to be involved. Which was naive of them because that’s certainly something I would have gone to court over.

The film became a lawsuit waiting to happen. Investors and distributors aren’t keen to risk their money on a situation that messy, especially not for a group of nobodies.

What I do now

I copyright my writing.

If I work with another writer, I make sure everyone involved signs an agreement outlining our relationship. Is it a collaboration agreement where everything is evenly split, or is it a work-for-hire situation (like Real American)?

I document conversations about my projects. I keep journals where I record who I spoke to, what about, and when, during or immediately after the conversation. This is something I started doing right after I was threatened. Once again, I am not a lawyer, but I am going to cite Federal Rules of Evidence Rule 803. Exceptions to the Rule Against Hearsay:

(5) Recorded Recollection. A record that:

(A) is on a matter the witness once knew about but now cannot recall well enough to testify fully and accurately;

(B) was made or adopted by the witness when the matter was fresh in the witness’s memory; and

(C) accurately reflects the witness’s knowledge.

If admitted, the record may be read into evidence but may be received as an exhibit only if offered by an adverse party.

I keep a diary in case it comes in handy for me one day. But again, I’m not a lawyer, so I can’t speak to whether that’s admissible or whether it’d be considered strong evidence.

For years, I’ve avoided sharing the details of this story because I was worried about retaliation. Plus, I was worried it’d be perceived as gossip. But I decided to share this as a cautionary tale for filmmakers. You can never be too safe with this stuff. Even if you’re just a bunch of friends making movies with no money, all it takes is one person to start seeing dollar signs, and everything turns radioactive. It can kill a film’s future.

But hey, remember that YouTube sketch I talked about at the beginning? Check it out because we need a laugh after all that:

As is probably the case for most fans my age, my introduction to The Shadow was the 1994 film starring Alec Baldwin. I remember seeing snippets of it on TV before finally renting it on VHS a few years later.

Is it a great movie? It certainly has its flaws, and I could write a whole separate article highlighting everything wrong with it. What the movie does have going for it is that it is just fun. John Lone, Alec Baldwin, and Tim Curry really went for it with their performances, and Jerry Goldsmith’s score is one of my all-time favorite film scores. Is the writing cheesy? Yes, but you know, people sometimes say that about my writing. Am I blinded by nostalgia? Perhaps. It’s a weakness we millennials have. Did I rush to buy the collector’s edition Blu-ray when it came out? You bet I did.

In college, I took an acting class where we were required to attend casting calls, and I went to one for a local radio performance of The Shadow: Spider Boy. There was a kid, not yet a teen, whose audition I will never forget. He didn’t read for Spider Boy, oh no. He read for Lamont Cranston/The Shadow. As a filmmaker, I’ve seen a lot of auditions over the years, but this kid’s remains one of the most memorable. He put his whole chest into The Shadow’s maniacal laugh.

I hope he’s still acting. Obviously, he wasn’t cast because…well, child. But I’ll say this: I saw the show live and I don’t remember the lead at all.

Just before I turned 30, a local comic book shop in Grand Rapids held a going-out-of-business sale. That’s when I first saw the covers for Dynamite’s comic book run of The Shadow. They were horrifying, surreal, and beautiful. I bought as many as I could, and thus began my hobby of buying issues of The Shadow based solely on the covers. It didn’t matter if I was missing part of the collection or had doubles; I wasn’t even reading them. It was just about the artwork.

Those Dynamite covers had such an impact on me that I even referenced them when making my horror short film Ain’t Ready for the Graveyard Yet.

For the longest time, directing The Shadow was just a fantasy. But I figured that I could emulate what I loved about that imagery in my own movies.

As preparation for making this fan film, I’ve since read most of the Dynamite issues. Shout out to Hoopla, the app that lets you read comic books for free with your library card. Additionally, I’ve read DC’s 1970s run, their series The Shadow Strikes!, and a few Dark Horse comics here and there.

Lately, I’ve been reading the original pulp stories. A daunting task, as there are more than 300 novels! Thankfully, I found a really good resource which helped me narrow down which books to read. Another shout-out, this time to Old-School Crimefighters on Tumblr for their list ‘So you wanna read The Shadow.’

Okay, that’s the How, but Why do I like The Shadow?

I think what first attracted me to the character was that he has all the hallmarks of a villain: black clothes, a creepy voice, and a sinister laugh. Even his use of guns. It all plays against your expectations of a good guy.

To the bad guys, The Shadow is the villain, terrorizing the underworld. A monster fighting monsters.

There’s the famous intro from the old Shadow radio program: “Who knows what evil lurks in the hearts of men? TheShadow knows.” Screenwriter David Koepp explores that in the film. Maybe The Shadow knows what evil lurks in the hearts of men because of his own heart of darkness.

Dynamite picks up on that idea in their version. The Shadow becomes a story of atonement, of reigning in your own darker instincts.

I find heroic monsters and monstrous heroes fascinating. That’s why I like Hellboy.

And that’s what I was trying to do with the Harvey character in Ain’t Ready. What if our hero was the villain? Are there times when some primal part of us wants that kind of crusader on our side? What does that say about us?

While writing the script for my adaptation of The Shadow and reading the pulps, I discovered something that made me connect to the character in a new way—as a filmmaker. In his war against injustice, The Shadow recruits people to be his agents. People with different skills and abilities, all working together to accomplish their mission, all overseen and steered by The Shadow. He knows how to utilize his agents to the best of their abilities. The Shadow is a producer.

Finally, I also find the time period The Shadow is set in interesting. The Shadow Magazine was published in the 30s and 40s. As I was studying that era, I started seeing similarities between what happened then and what’s happening now. We all know the adage about history repeating itself.

I believe The Shadow really is synonymous with that era. His creation and popularity perhaps indicate American sentiment at the time. Various authors have tried to modernize him or send him into the future, but I think he works best in the era when his stories were originally written. Which means I’m making a period piece.

Period pieces are complicated, and they’re not cheap. If my Kickstarter is successful, a large share of the money will go into costumes, props, and sets to make sure the film feels authentic to the time. Please consider following the Kickstarter page to help me accomplish that:

https://www.kickstarter.com/projects/delarosa/theshadowfanfilm

The little girl noticed their scaled bellies glowed a soft gold, almost imperceptibly. It was so faint that it could be mistaken for a trick of the light. A lamp hung above the tank, and a cord ran from the back of it to a switch on the counter. Taped to the switch was a note that read: “Try Me.” She flipped the switch off, plunging the tank into darkness.

Without light, it was clear to see that the stomachs of the goldfish were indeed glowing, but just barely, like the last ember of a crushed cigarette refusing to fade to ash.

The frantic swimming in the tank slowed down, as if the dark was thickening the water into molasses. Sleepy, trickling light streams trailed without urgency. The little girl flipped the switch back on, and the goldfish resumed flitting about the tank.

The shopkeeper came over with a net and scooped one of the goldfish into a jar of water at the ready. The belly of the goldfish lit up like gasoline catching fire, transforming the jar into a lightbulb burning so bright the little girl couldn’t stare at it directly. Rays of light swept around the shop like a searchlight as the goldfish did laps around the container.

“They glow brighter alone,” the shopkeeper said. “Back in the day, people thought it was because the fish were healthier alone. That maybe the glow was caused by something they ate. Similar to why flamingoes are pink. People thought too many fish meant not enough resources, and that’s why they’re dull together. But the truth is, when they’re bright like this, it means they’re lonely. They’re trying to attract other goldfish. But the internal chemistry that makes them glow also poisons them. The brighter they burn, the shorter their lifespans. Finding other goldfish is truly life or death for them.”

“Doesn’t that mean it’s cruel to separate them?” the little girl asked.

“But that’s when the goldfish are their most beautiful,” the shopkeeper said. “So, which is crueler? Making them shine so radiantly, even though it’ll kill them, or letting them live long lives if it means they’ll be dull? I leave such decisions up to the customer.”

Using both hands, the shopkeeper picked up the jar and slowly poured the contents into the tank, allowing the goldfish to rejoin the school. Immediately, the glow filling the store died down. Turning back to the little girl, the shopkeeper asked, “Which one do you like? For only a dollar, you can take it home.”

The little girl shoved her fingers deep into her pocket and dug past the coins and crumpled-up gum wrappers to the bills at the bottom. “Actually, I’ll take two, please,” she said.

Yes, I’m getting an early start on September’s email for an announcement. Perhaps you’ve thought to yourself:

“Once a month isn’t enough. I need to hear from Jacob more often.” (Listen, I’m a dreamer).

Well, now I have a Substack for anyone who does want to read more of my writing.

“Do you really have enough going on for a newsletter AND a Substack?” you might be asking. (A little rude).

And maybe. I will still email all my important announcements, whereas on Substack I can (over)share my inner thoughts and the tiny details of what I’m up to without flooding your inbox. I’ve planned posts about my motivation for making The Shadow and about the movies I’m watching for inspiration. Some of my fiction writing might appear on there as well. But the newsletter isn’t changing.

Are you wondering, “What’s the important announcement for this month’s newsletter?”

I’ve made really good progress on the sizzle reel. My goal is to get it out by Halloween. While editing, I keep referencing this line from Seinfeld:

Josh White, the composer who scored all of the Perelandra films I directed, is doing the music for the reel. I’m not a musician, but I get the sense that writing music for a trailer or a reel is a different beast than scoring a film. Well, I guess I should call Josh the Beastmaster then, because I love what he’s done so far.

Something I was thinking about recently: I always try to make it my own way, but never on my own. I truly feel fortunate to have collaborated with so many creative and talented people, like Josh. If I’ve accomplished anything in film, it’s because of everyone involved. Those accomplishments are not solely mine; they are ours. Without their work, I’m just a guy writing on a laptop in the dark.

“This feels like it’s veering into that oversharing you were talking about,” you might point out.

What I’m getting at is, at the risk of sounding like a broken record, The Shadow is about repaying the people who have given me so much over the years. I just need to make it happen.

Based on the Kickstarter for Real American, I think I’ll need an audience of at least 200 followers to have a shot at raising an adequate budget. Thank you to everyone who followed The Shadow on Kickstarter. If you haven’t yet, please do so by going to this link and clicking Notify me on launch:

https://www.kickstarter.com/projects/delarosa/theshadowfanfilm

Thanks!

Sincerely,

Jacob

I’m looking for suggestions on what movie I should watch next, so if you have one, please comment on the post or email me!

The Phantom of the Opera (1925)

Ladies of Leisure (1930)

Dracula (1931)

M (1931)

Svengali (1931)

The Old Dark House (1932)

Baby Face (1933)

The Invisible Man (1933)

King Kong (1933)

The Testament of Dr. Mabuse (1933)

It Happened One Night (1934) - second time watching

The Thin Man (1934)

Mad Love (1935)

After The Thin Man (1936)

Mr. Deeds Goes to Town (1936)

My Man Godfrey (1936)

The Lady Vanishes (1938)

Hotel for Women (1939)

Mr. Smith Goes to Washington (1939)

His Girl Friday (1940) - loved it so much I watched it twice

Citizen Kane (1941) - fifth or sixth time watching

Maltese Falcon (1941) - second time watching

Casablanca (1942) - second time watching

Woman of the Year (1942)

The Seventh Victim (1943)

Shadow of a Doubt (1943)

Double Indemnity (1944)

The Woman in the Window (1944)

Scarlet Street (1945)

The Third Man (1949)

Research is a compulsion for me as a writer; I feel like I have to do it. Sometimes it’s paralyzing: I’ll convince myself I can’t write until I’ve read certain books or watched certain movies. Sometimes it can dilute what I’m trying to do because I become convinced that I have to include everything, and I start going off on tangents.

And sometimes…it adds color to my writing. Sometimes it inspires new ideas. Research is a tool, one of many in a writer’s toolbox. Like a knife. Effective when handled properly.

One aspect of the research I’m doing for The Shadow is watching movies from the 30s and 40s, when The Shadow was in print and on the radio. Not for historical accuracy–we can’t count on movies for facts–but for the vibes of that time period. What movies would my main characters go to the theatres to see? What movies have the same feel?

I hesitate to say, ‘What would it be like if I made this movie back then?’ because I have the knowledge of what happened in the decades that followed, and because I have the freedom to tell certain stories, depict certain characters, and approach certain topics that the studio system and the Hays Code wouldn’t have allowed.

Well, maybe pre-code I could have made my version of The Shadow.

In the ‘Shadows of Hollywood Cinema’ series, I’ll talk about the movies I’m watching for research, their effect on me as a filmmaker, and ultimately how they’ll influence the making of The Shadow.

If you’re interested in supporting the making of The Shadow fan film, please follow the campaign on Kickstarter!

https://www.kickstarter.com/projects/delarosa/theshadowfanfilm

It’s a work in progress with more to come, but I’m trying to start building the audience for this film as early as possible.

That brings me to this month’s edition of If I Could Turn Back Time, where I try to learn from my mistakes:

Build your audience now. It’s never too early.

For instance, this mailing list is probably something I should have started years ago, back when I was working on my first feature film, Break Glass in Case Of…, and the algorithms weren’t quite as impenetrable as they are now. Hindsight is 20/20.

It’s never too early, and I’m hoping it’s not too late! I’m grateful to you for subscribing now. Your support means a lot!

Last month, I announced I was coming out of (my very brief) retirement to attempt to make one more movie. What is it? A short Shadow fan film.

For those who don't know, The Shadow is a costumed vigilante, shrouded in darkness, who haunts the underworld like a ghost. Created in 1930, The Shadow has had hundreds of pulp magazines, a radio show, comic books, serials, and films. He was even the inspiration for Batman.

Why this character? The Shadow imagery, especially the covers of the 2010s Dynamite comic book series, has been a big influence on my films, particularly my short film Ain't Ready for the Graveyard Yet. But this time, instead of borrowing or referencing something I love, and worrying I'm just making an imitation, I'd be making a straight-up adaptation.

There's also the added benefit of a built-in audience. It might not be as big of an audience as Batman, Spider-Man, Star Trek, Star Wars, and the other frequently made fan film properties out there, but there's also much less competition. I've found only a handful of Shadow fan films made over the years. One of them even features Cobra Kai's Martin Kove.

However, none of them are set in the 30s-40s. I think the character belongs in that time, post-depression and the looming threat of WWII. The Shadow works best as a period piece. But I can understand why a filmmaker would choose to set it in the present. Period pieces come with many challenges, including wardrobes, sets, props, vehicles, and hair. Those are the kind of challenges I find exciting! 

My film is set in the late 1930s, at a pivot point of US history. There was a lot of disillusionment over democracy, and some people in our country–including the wealthy–were flirting with fascism. Critics were calling FDR's New Deal communism. Sound familiar to you? It sure does to me.

I've finished drafts of a 25-minute and a 45-minute version of the story. The final length will depend on the budget. Films, of course, cost money, and I won't make this movie unless I can raise the money to pay everyone involved and make it right.

Next step will be setting up the pre-launch Kickstarter campaign page, and I'm putting together a sizzle reel of my films to show the Shadow fandom my bona fides. And of course, I will share that sizzle reel with you first!

I hope you'll continue reading about my endeavors!

Sincerely,

Jacob de la Rosa

Copyright (C) 2026 Cinder. All rights reserved.

My journey with Real American is coming to a close after 8 years! Well, the Pandemic doesn't really count, so more like 6 years. I know it's cliché to ask, but where did the time go?

The final leg of the journey is mailing rewards to everyone who crowdfunded the project. We did a Kickstarter campaign, where fans could support us financially and receive a reward in exchange. Here are the Real American Blu-rays for backers:

I recently sent out surveys to our backers asking for details like mailing addresses and name spellings. We only heard from about 1/4 of them, which surprised me. But then again, it's been many years, and I know at least one person has passed away in that time – my friend, Ryan Lathrop. Ryan was a great guy who was extremely supportive of all of his friends. May that be said of all of us.

Crowdfunding is tough work, and there are many things I'd do differently if I ever did it again.

And I might. I'm announcing here first that a year after saying I was retiring from filmmaking, I am going to attempt one more film. Technically, I said I was done making films the way I have in the past, and that is still true.

I say "attempt" because if I cannot raise the budget for this project, whether crowdfunding or finding private financiers, then it's not happening. The big difference this time is I'm going to pay everyone involved. I've been very lucky that many talented people have given their time and resources to collaborate with me on projects over the years. I'd like to pay them back for what they've done. So an attempt will be made. 

No matter the outcome, I continue to pursue comic book writing. And I will always share details about my projects with you, dear subscribers, first.

Since I started with a cliché, I will end with one: apologies for the long gap between updates, and I will try to write more frequently.

Sincerely,

Jacob de la Rosa

Copyright (C) 2026 Cinder. All rights reserved.

Right after I mentioned him in my last email, Hulk Hogan died. I think he tried to get revenge from beyond the grave because the next night, I wound up in the ER and had to get emergent surgery.

If you're interested in hearing more about my medical adventure, you can read the details in the "Personal" section at the end. But since these emails are supposed to be about my creative endeavors, let's get into that...

PROFESSIONAL

A few people responded to my last email saying they'd watch my "Everything I did Wrong as a Filmmaker" video series, so I think it's an idea I'll pursue. I've already started writing down my most entertaining anecdotes. My goal is for the series to be funny and insightful. What I don't want to do is make videos of me just whining about my mistakes. Nobody wants that!

Regarding Cinder, my post-filmmaking endeavor, I know I've been a bit vague. But we're all friends here, and the idea is for these emails to be a conversation. What I will say is that I'm currently focusing on my writing. Specifically, I'm transitioning into writing for comics. It's a different beast than screenwriting, but I'm enjoying the challenge so far. Hopefully, in the near future, I'll have details about upcoming projects.

PERSONAL

A couple of times in June, I experienced what I thought was painful bloating. It felt like I was John Hurt, and an alien was going to burst out of my chest. After about five hours, the pain would subside.

On the Thursday night that Hulk Hogan died, I had another attack. I tried a hot shower, a massage, OTC medication, and ended up walking around my neighborhood at 2 am until the pain finally stopped.

The next night, the same thing happened. But this time, the pain wasn't going away, and at 3 am, I realized I was going to have to drive myself to the ER. When I walked in, clutching the area just below my right ribs where the pain was, the charge nurse took one look at me and declared, "It's your gallbladder."

They put me in a room. Pain distorts all sense of time, and it seemed like I was in there for hours. It hurt to lie down, so I paced around the room massaging the problem area. Finally, a resident came in to see me, and he echoed what the nurse at the desk said. They gave me some pain meds, took some blood for labs, and sent me to get an ultrasound.

They found one gallstone in my gallbladder and determined that I was suffering from biliary colic, or a gallbladder attack. For those of you who don't know what the gallbladder does (I certainly didn't before all this), when you eat fatty foods, your liver produces bile to help digest them. That bile goes through the gallbladder on its way to the stomach. When it does, the ducts of the gallbladder open up to allow it to pass. Sometimes gallstones form, and when those ducts shrink back down, they can close on the gallstone, and it is excruciating. Usually, these attacks last a few hours. I was given a referral to schedule a gallbladder removal, and sent on my way with the pain back in full force. They wouldn't give me pain meds right then since I was driving, but they gave me a prescription for two days of Norco.

The Norco did nothing. Unlike the previous attacks, the pain didn't stop. Instead, I went from feeling like John Hurt to feeling like someone was stabbing me repeatedly. I barely slept all of Saturday because there was no position I could lie in that wasn't painful. With the surgery center closed until Monday, and who knows how long it would take to get me in, there was no way I could endure this any longer. So I decided to go to Urgent Care right when they opened on Sunday morning to see if they could prescribe me a stronger pain med. That would be cheaper than two visits to the ER, I thought.

At 8 am, I went in and saw the provider right away. He said, "I think you're going to have to go back to the ER. I think they thought your gallbladder could come out eventually, but I think it has other plans, and you need to get it removed now. I don't have anything stronger than Norco. The only thing I could give you would thin your blood, and if you have to have surgery today, the last thing you want is a blood thinner." This visit lasted maybe 5 minutes.

Back to the ER I went! I think there's a rivalry between ER shifts. The resident who saw me on Sunday morning seemed to question everything the ER did at my previous visit.

"Did they give you anything for the nausea?" he asked. I told him no. He put his hand on my arm and leaned in confidentially, "I would have given you something for the nausea." Then he told me, "The radiologists who were working when you got your ultrasound are usually residents. And they didn't notice anything. But the radiologists who came in on the next shift did. I think you have acute cholecystitis. I'm going to have you get a CT scan to confirm."

Sometimes a gallstone can actually block the bile ducts. That can cause inflammation in the gallbladder. Liquid can back up in the gallbladder, and that can lead to infection. My white blood cell count was high on the first ER visit, and that probably should have tipped them off that my body was fighting something.

The CT scan confirmed that, yes, my gallbladder needed to come out right then. Everything happened pretty fast after that, and my gallbladder was out by Sunday afternoon. It's a relatively simple surgery done with four 1-inch incisions. I stayed overnight, and the hospital sent me home the next morning. On Tuesday, I got a call from the surgery center saying they received my referral, and asked when I would like to schedule my gallbladder removal. "That gallbladder's gone!" I said.

Two medical professionals at the hospital said my gallbladder was pretty "gnarly." Looking through the after-visit notes later, apparently gnarly is the official medical term for "gangrenous." The inflammation caused the walls of my gallbladder to expand, cutting off circulation and causing tissue to die. It's a complication that can be fatal and usually happens to 80-year-olds. I don't know why it happened to me.

But I'm doing great now!

TLDR: I had a gangrenous gallbladder removed.

Last summer, I was at a friend's going-away party, meeting new people, and I was trying to tell this gentleman I'd just met about Real American.

"Where can I find it?" he asked.

"You have to look up Real American on YouTube," I said. "Well, except you can't just look up 'Real American' because Hulk Hogan comes up. So you have to look up 'Real American Perelandra.' Perelandra is spelled P-E-R-E–"

Whenever I promoted my work, I found myself having to spell out Perelandra. And each time, I could see people's eyes glazing over. No one knows how to spell Perelandra, and no one knows how to pronounce it. I'm not even sure I'm saying it correctly! My all-time favorite mispronunciation I've heard is "Perlandria."

When I picked the name, I thought it was a cool reference that sounded otherworldly in a way that fit a sci-fi studio. I wasn't thinking about Google searches.

Now that I'm moving away from no-budget filmmaking, I'm sunsetting Perelandra in favor of Cinder. It's easy to spell, easy to pronounce, and it's a simple word I can put in big, bold letters on a poster or the cover of a book. I'm trying to learn from the many mistakes I've made as a business owner. In this case, the lesson I've learned is: make it easy for people to find your work.

Speaking of my mistakes, I'm seriously considering hosting a YouTube series about my experiences as a filmmaker called Everything I Did Wrong. The pitch is:

"Do the opposite of everything I did, and you just might succeed at filmmaking."

For example, I think I have a novel take on that age-old question: "Should I go to film school?" I went, and yes, it was a mistake, but not for the usual reasons.

Would anybody be interested in that sort of thing?

Also, even though this is a mailing list, I don’t want it to be too formal. Let me know what you are up to or whether these emails are too long or if every month is too frequent. 

Thank you for reading!

–Jacob de la Rosa

PS You can watch Real American here