It wasn't actually all that nerve-racking because I don't recall thinking of it realistically at first, to be quite honest! I remember reading the blog Don posted saying that the project was dead and just thinking, "This is bogus. There's another way." I thought about just replying on the blog, then realized that fifty other people had already done that and it wasn't going to make a difference, so I just emailed my buddy Zach to see if I was on par or straight crazy.  (I'm more of the extravagant dreamer type anyway.) Zach's the one that took it to the next level.  His response to my email? First, he made a Nine Inch Nails reference (as he does for everything he gets excited about) then he said, "Challenge accepted."

What were your thoughts immediately before you hit "Launch"?

This will probably fail miserably or change our lives forever.

That emphasis was specific so that we didn't come across as two guys hired by the film or anything. We were just like the people we were asking to help save the film — and it was super important to us to have a community feel from the get-go.

Not at all. I mean, we were hopeful, but it far exceeded our "optimistic hopes." To be real, our internal goal was $250K — but we decided the lowest we could go at that point was $125K to get the film in the can (accounting for fees, merch costs, etc.). We did our research beforehand on crowdsourced funding for films, and up until then the highest amount successfully raised was in the $50K range.  Based on that, we came as low as feasibly possible.

Then, once the project started — if you can wear out the refresh button on a browser, we sure did it.  We were checking things out constantly and simultaneously having our minds blown. It was incredible. Day ten of the campaign (when we reached our mark of $125K) was semi-humorous 'cause once the celebration resided a smidge we talked to the Director and it was like "Oh man, we need to go into pre-production! We've got to make a movie!" Chaos ensued amidst happy hearts and blown minds.

And then the last day came: $90k in the final 24 hours. I remember I was in NYC for work and couldn't check the project as often as I normally would, so when I got a chance I thought there must have been a glitch — no freakin' way it was coming in that fast. Sure enough...

These fans are seriously incredible. Incredible and passionate. I think that's why we knew this could work in the first place.  We were part of that community, and knew the passion that existed.  Everyone was not only pledging their money, but swiftly sending follow up emails to offer services of every imaginable kind.  Music, camera-work, catering — you name it.

Two really cool aspects of the campaign, ones that were built into the incentives, were chances to talk to and meet the fans.  At $10, you would receive a call from the film's Director, Steve Taylor. (That guy is seriously amazing.) He's got a huge binder that literally looks like a phone book — and he's just going through, one by one, checking people off the list. And from what I hear, it's never just a "Hey, it's Steve, thanks, gotta go!"  He's always engaging conversation and thanking them from the bottom of his heart. He's the real deal. Then, for $1000, you could come on set, hang with the cast and crew, and be an extra in the film! This meant an opportunity to meet many fans, and it was so much fun every time. 

Two.

The first is a personal anecdote that Zach and I reference quite often internally.  The night we put together the pitch for Don and Steve (before we knew that it was all "a go"), it was a crazy night of no sleep, yet lots of dreaming, in my garage. At one point we stopped and momentarily talked about the craziness of what we were potentially doing. We looked at the clock (it was still early on for that night, before we got too thick into it) and we said, "Let's take one minute, 60 seconds, and just think about how this moment could forever alter our lives." That time was 11:46 pm.

The second notable anecdote is the immediate rise of people reading Blue Like Jazz (the book) within a fifty mile radius of anyone involved with the project. From the digital tech on-set catching a quick read whenever he had a break to my 81-year-old grandmother-in-law, everyone was now wondering what this madness was all about.

Odd. Hah. It just so happened that I was already going to Portland the weekend before the Save Blue Like Jazz campaign launched for Don's first ever "Storyline" conference.  This was planned long before anything ever happened with the Kickstarter campaign.  So by the time I got out there, we had emailed and talked on the phone (at this point, we were actually talking quite frequently) but had never met face to face.  So that weekend I walked up after one of the sessions and it was this weird, "Hey...I'm one of the guys trying to save your movie..." kind of handshakes.  Once we got past that though, it's been one of a kind.  Don's a killer guy with a huge heart.  

Wow. This is one heck of a can of worms. Without going into some of the "not-so-pretty" details — this was a decision a long time coming, but definitely not easy nor swift.  I had been working for a  great financial planning company as the marketing director at the time, but my dream had always been to go full-time creative.  I had been moonlighting as a photographer for a few years at that point, and felt like I was getting close to making the move — but with a wife who stayed home with our newborn daughter, there were so many variables the risk seemed too high.  I then somewhat unknowingly forced myself into what seemed like an ultimatum: Once we hit our goal, Steve asked Zach and I to come on set during filming to shoot behind the scenes as well as oversee marketing and promotion.  On top of that, I had just gotten a call for one of my biggest photography gigs to date: to go out on the road with Taylor Swift and capture the festivities of the release week of her latest album, Speak Now. This was five straight weeks of dream-work, and moon-lighting just wouldn't cut it.

It was October, finances weren't exactly where I'd wanted them to be, and I still had risk and responsibility staring me square in the eyes.  So, I asked for a 5-week leave of absence, hoping I could come back and get through the Holidays, then re-evaluate.  Four days before I was supposed to fly out, they turned me down.  I obviously had a big decision to make, and I couldn't make the call without my wife's support.  My family means the world to me, and as a new father, and a husband always striving to be better — I told my wife I'd pass it all up and stay where I was if that's what I needed to do.  She told me plainly, "It's time — you can't pass this up. I believe in you." I cried, then told my bosses that I had to go for it.  They supported me 100%, and the rest, as they say — is history. 

Different, hah.  Now, Zach and I have formally started a company and we're hustling artists just like our peers.  Our mantra, if you will,  is to "Tell engaging stories visually" with a holistic, cohesive-voice approach.  It's so much fun though — not to mention freeing — to do the work you love.  The best part?  I can wake up and have breakfast with my wife and daughter if I so desire, and not have to worry about calling my office manager and explaining "why I'm late." And that, is awesome.

Anybody familiar with this book knows that it didn't sell 1.3 million copies and reach the New York Times Bestseller list 46 times because Don was an established writer at the time with a massive and loyal audience.  His previous book barely sold 10,000 units and he nearly quit writing to work at an insurance agency.  Blue Like Jazz was his "last shot" so to speak.  Since he figured no one would read it anyways, he was brutally honest.  Who would have thought that vulnerability would have ignited fire in the hearts of a generation so abruptly?  The book got handed around college campuses quicker than a joint at a Dave Matthews show.  This wasn't a cult-like, pity-giving, charity party.  This is a fanbase whose lives have been radically changed, and would do anything to keep the story alive.