For those of you who are a little more connected to my day-to-day, you might remember that way back in December I applied for a spot in this year’s DGA Assistant Director Training Program.

An Assistant Director is to a film set what a stage manager is to a theatrical production: the person who runs things, keeps everything working smoothly and on time, and basically keeps the whole world from exploding. It’s what I went to college for. I’m pretty good at it. I would like to do it on a daily, this-is-my-whole-job basis.

Unfortunately, the market for stage managers is not so huge. And to make a living at it, I’d have to be doing things like running 8 performances of Legally Blonde: The Musical every week. And that’s just not what I’m into.

Therefore, I made the decision awhile ago to focus more on applying my skill set to film. I AD’d the independent short Mr. Boyfriend and his production company made last May, and I didn’t suck. The world didn’t explode. So I decided to apply for the training program.

The DGA Assistant Director Training Program takes 3-7 people every year, owns their life for two years, and puts them on set, training them and giving them the skills and experience they need to succeed as ADs in the film & TV industry. The application process is long. It involves a 5-hour battery of personality and aptitude tests, a one-on-one interview with a member of the program’s consulting team, and (if you make it that far) a final interview with the program’s board of directors—about ten people.

I made it that far. I tested first out of 343 people on the battery. I had a great one-on-one interview. I went in for that board interview last Wednesday, and felt like I represented myself the best I could.

And then I got a letter on Monday that regretted to inform me.

I know what I have to do. I have to take the next six months and work my tail off to get some more on-set experience. I have to do whatever it takes to get some work on a real union set. I have to pull together another great application, two more letters of recommendation. The will to continue.

I know all these things I have to do, but in the immediate aftermath of failure (because no matter what degree or how close I got, I still didn’t make it) it’s incredibly difficult to pick back up and keep trotting on. I suddenly feel so old, knowing the next time I get in front of that board (if I get back in front of that board) I’ll be 27, while most of the other applicants will be fresh out of undergrad film school.

Ugh. I’m sorry to be a downer, but I’ve been fighting against feeling overwhelmed and discouraged for the past few days. And the only thing that helps at all has been working on Galactic Girl. Running my cues, marking my script, tweaking the timing of the video. All these things remind me that I’m good at what I do, and that maybe those ten people just need more evidence that I can apply my mad skillz to film and not just theater. But then I remember how much work I have to do before December, and I just have to sigh.

Ah well. At least I haven’t cried about it.