When I was first starting out, I told my parents about every interview I went on, every potential job offer that came my way, every good parking space I found on lunch runs.
Oh, how years in Hollywood have jaded me.
Now, my parents know almost nothing about my professional life. Why? Because a PA’s life is filled with almosts. I almost got a job as an assistant to an A-list director. I almost sold a feature to Paramount (i.e. I was pitched to Paramount). I almost met Kevin Bacon (i.e. I interviewed to work on his show).
Other PA’s understand that not every road leads to the promised land, but my parents don’t get that. While catching up with a friend from the Overpriced Film School, I might let him know that I just interviewed to be that A-list director’s new assistant. A month later, when I run into that friend again and I don’t bring it up, he’ll know I didn’t get the job. He won’t feel compelled to ask about it.
But come Thanksgiving, my mom and dad and grandmother are sure as hell going to be asking about the job. And by then, they’ll have told all of my aunts and uncles and cousins, too. Then I’ll have to go to each member of my family, one at a time, and answer the same inane questions. “No, I didn’t get the job… Yes, it would’ve been cool… No, I won’t be going to next year’s Oscars.”
Now, I keep my parents 100% in the dark. If I ever get paid to write something, I’m not even going to tell them until it shoots. I’ll invite my family to set, but I won’t tell them why. Not until they get there and the director calls, “Action,” will I put a script in their hands and silently point to the “written by” line.