All That You Leave Behind: A Memoir(12)

     Very professional photo to send to future employers, taken in my dorm room.



The following is what I drafted and sent to my dad:


The name is Erin Carr and I am graduating college and am desperately trying to avoid The Graduate type of situation because one, I don’t own a deep-sea diving suit and two, I don’t know anyone named Mrs. Robinson. I will ultimately graduate with a degree in Communication Arts from University of Wisconsin-Madison. I have worked at a variety of jobs including dancing to the oldies while making a mean banana split, educating the future of America at a learning center, pouring glass after glass of Glenlivet to old men who always have stories to tell (whether I want to hear them or not) and my one true passion: media. Media has fascinated me since my single digits up until now. While my peers were watching crappy teen soaps I was consuming all forms of media new and old, television and film, blogging, viding and capturing images compulsively. I understand that I am one of many that will attempt to work for you this upcoming summer but I am a girl who can lift things 1.5 my weight, break down a set, make problems disappear and take enormous pride in doing small things well while taking an interest and sometimes helping with bigger things. Please contact me if you have any room available on your team, I would love to work for you.



I also added to the email: “Where do I put in that I am your daughter, and is there a classy way to do that?”

He read the pitch and told me it needed to be shorter and funnier (a good rule of thumb for most things). He then sent me back the following revision:


My name is Erin Carr and I will be a senior at University of Wisconsin-Madison next year. I want to be part of your production/caper as a go-fer/gaffer/girl-friday. I’m working hard to find an internship in the media/movie world for this summer. So far I’ve done a lot of simple but hard jobs and done well. If you’re learning disabled, I worked as a coach at a learning center. If you’re hungry, I’ve waited more tables than I care to remember. If you enjoy a cocktail, I know what an Old Fashioned is and how to make it.

More to the point, I currently handle a variety of media and formats at the Instructional Media Development Center and also rule 40 freshmen in a dorm with a not-so iron fist. I am in the midst of assisting in the camerawork for a project about the classification of dairy cows. (Guernsey’s rock, btw) I am still a hack with Final Cut Pro, but improving daily. I have deep love and growing knowledge of independent cinema and sprawling tastes in all kinds of music. I am the most mediated person I know with an external hard drive filled with gigabytes of film, music, and text. My internal hard drive, my brain, is in a nascent state and seeking new experiences and lessons from the likes of you. I am a low-maintenance, high-effort person who counterintuits as a matter of course, which is nice because I am looking for a job/internship/situation for the summer of ’09 into the biggest economic headwind in eight decades. But, and this is important, I always walk on the sunny side of the street. Best, Erin



I felt an instant pang of fear after I read his revision written on behalf of me and my fledgling career. Was all of that really true?

In a late-night brainstorming session weeks later, we compiled a list of contacts and I drafted personalized emails for The Colbert Report, America’s Test Kitchen, various production companies, and Fox Searchlight. Oh, and Judd Apatow. My dad forwarded my emails from his account with the subject heading “My kid, your world,” knowing that his addy would get better play than [email protected]. After a night of pushing the refresh button on the ancient Wisconsin mail server, a forwarded response appeared in my inbox from Judd-friggen-Apatow. His response: “Is it possible that she is that cool? Happy to meet with her as long as you didn’t write her email.”

I called my dad and asked “How did he know?” I could sense him shrugging on the other end of the phone. Did he write it or did I? What’s the protocol here? Dad fessed up to Judd about the edit and the cow joke being his but refused to take credit for the rest.

I was eventually connected to one of Judd’s producers, Lisa, who would judge if I was as cool as the email let on. I had media classes all day, but the phone meeting was ever-present in my mind as I counted down the hours and minutes like some sort of deranged NASA clock. After trying many sitting positions in my dorm room/office as RA of the floor, I determined that standing on my lofted bed was my ultimate power position. When the California number flashed on my phone, I started the very important phone call with a cough and a loud “Hi, Lisa!”

We went back and forth, and my nervousness started to drift away. Toward the end of the call we discussed options. The internship would have to take place in Los Angeles. I knew it would be a hard sell for my situation since I had nowhere to crash. I asked if she had anything I could help out with in New York. She said no but told me that I should move to L.A. when I graduated and to get in touch then. The prospect thrilled, but I had the here and now to worry about. How could I find this kind of opportunity in New York?

I had a phone interview for The Colbert Report as well but am pretty sure I botched it due to inordinate fan-boying. I never heard back. Next on our list was Fox Searchlight. I knew the studio and was deeply impressed with the type of films they were putting out. Again the L.A. issue circled. The head of production emailed to say that they would be happy to consider me, and that publicity and distribution were run out of the New York office. Publicity seemed like it could be a good fit—hell, I loved talking about movies. I gchatted with Dad to prep for another nerve-racking phone call.