My First Year Running LIVEBAD CREATIVE: A Semi-Inspirational Survival Guide

By someone who hasn't slept since Q1

This past year, I’ve been running my own entertainment marketing agency, LIVEBAD CREATIVE, and let me tell you, it’s been... character building. You dream of creative freedom, the thrill of independence, the glamorous life of being your own boss. What you get instead is QuickBooks-induced trauma, Net-90 heartache, and existential dread, but hey, at least the Adobe subscription is tax-deductible.

Here’s what I’ve learned in 12 months of doing mostly everything myself, from cutting trailers to cutting invoices (and corners on sleep):

All Grit, No Glamour (And Definitely No Assistants)

Running your own shop sounds cool until you realize you’re the AE, editor, finisher, producer, tech support, therapist, and snack runner. There’s no one to blame. No one to bail you out. Just you and that little voice inside your head whispering “you’re not billing enough for this.” I wasn’t new to late nights, edit bays don’t close, but the real grind was juggling it all without losing it entirely. Time management becomes survival. Stress becomes breakfast. And ego? That got tossed in the trash with last night’s coffee.

Cash Flow is a Gaslight

Accounting 101: Send invoice → get paid → survive. Accounting in reality: Send invoice → client eventually processes it → follow-up → maybe get paid in 90 days → cry into a spreadsheet. Studio clients operate on Net-30 or Net-90 terms, which translates to “You’ll see this money someday. Maybe.” You start doing mental gymnastics, floating one project to fund the next, wondering if your landlord takes Vimeo links as rent. Keep a cash cushion. Save for rainy days, and prepare for downpours. I started this to be creative, not to become my own unpaid CFO. But here we are.

You Have to Pay to Play (And You Will Pay. Oh, You Will.)

Award shows are the adult version of Chuck E. Cheese, you buy the tokens, play the game, and hope to leave with a plastic trophy and some validation. Submissions, tickets, and trophies cost thousands. And when you do win? Congrats, you just bought your team a trophy with your own profits. But truth is, it’s not about you. It’s about the friends, freelancers, and ride-or-dies who’ve helped build this little pirate ship with you. Awards and Noms help their careers. That’s the real win. You just foot the bill.

Trust Fall (Without the Net)

Eventually, you hit that sweet spot where you’re too busy to do everything alone and too broke to hire full-time. So you build your own A-Team, friends, freelancers, fellow masochists. And you must learn to trust them. Pay them well, even if that means you break even. Because in this business, loyalty and talent are gold, and ramen tastes better when shared. Here's to the misfit bandits that started it all!

I want to take a moment to shout out the two absolute legends who had my back through the toughest stretches of this wild year: Senior Editor Brian Fairlee, who always brought sharp cuts and sharper instincts; Copywriter/Producer Bex Bradshaw, whose words and ideas added spark and soul to every campaign.

To my mentors, Matthew Goldman, industry veteran and current Head of Theatrical Marketing at MUBI, who not only encouraged me to take the leap into entrepreneurship, but also helped guide me through the chaos of setting up my own shop. Peter Campbell, Creative Director/Senior Editor at WILD CARD for his endless support. Benedict Coulter, former partner of TRAILER PARK and current co-owner of REBEL AV for his guidance and feedback. Former boss and owner of RAVE Collective, Brett Winn, for his endless optimistic vision. Former boss and owner of PACE PICTURES, Heath Ryan, for always being willing to collaborate, provide resources and knowledge. And another major mentor, Andy Wing, former CEO of Nielsen Entertainment, Cantor Fitzgerald Entertainment, and now a serial entrepreneur, whose wisdom, support, and belief in me were instrumental in pushing this thing forward. I owe you all more than caffeine and thank-you emails.

Don’t Be Cheap. Ever.

People remember how you made them feel. Clients. Mentors. Collaborators. Be generous with your time, your thanks, your weirdly thoughtful gifts. If someone gave you a shot, send them a bottle, a thank-you card, or a kidney (ok maybe not that). These aren't bribes, they’re just part of the karmic tax system. Give love, and it boomerangs back. Be the guy who brings cookies to meetings. People hire cookie guys again.

Be Shameless. (With Taste.)

A mentor once told me, “You have to be shameless.” So I send cold emails. Lots of them. 99% vanish into the void. But that 1%? Gold. And when I finally do land a client, I treat them as if they're my only client. Like when Sony Pictures Classics took a chance on LIVEBAD for NUREMBERG. They asked us for six spots for the campaign, we gave them twenty spots and a full trailer. All finished. Why? Because you don’t win clients, you earn believers. And overdelivering is cheaper than buying ad space. That’s how you build trust, make noise, and keep the work coming.

Within our first year, we worked directly with clients such as NEON, MUBI, Sony Pictures and Sony Pictures Classics. We also earned our very first Golden Trailer Award nomination and Clio Entertainment Award nomination.

Nobody Cares. Work Harder.

This one stings. Nobody’s coming to rescue you. There are no PTO days for anxiety, no 401k for freelancers, and no hotline for when your After Effects file crashes at 3AM. The burnout doesn’t go away, you just learn how to dance with it. It's not about finding balance. It’s about accepting chaos and building anyway. Your job is to show up, even when no one notices. Especially then. 

So that’s year one. It’s been messy, exhausting, and brutally honest, but I wouldn't trade it. Because in the end, success doesn’t come from playing it safe. It comes from getting knocked down, cracking a sarcastic smile, and choosing to Live Bad anyway.

Here’s to year two.

Let’s make something legendary. Or at least invoiceable.