Ask anyone to describe me and they’ll say “Adam Bowers is a man-of-action.” If they say anything different, or talk about how I owe them three hundred dollars, they’re dirty liars.

Why am I a man-of-action? Because I “T.C.B.” all day long, which stands for “take care business,” because I don’t have time for prepositions. You know that moment in romantic comedies when the protagonist realizes the error of their ways, so they run across town to catch their ex before they get on an airplane? That’s me, 24/7. I’m starting to have to chase girls I don’t even know. They’re not crazy about it, but I AM A MAN-OF-ACTION (hearing this doesn’t seem to make them feel any more comfortable).

Let me describe the process of making my first movie: I wrote it, guilted friends into helping out, and we just started shooting. Bingo bango, as I wish I’d say. There are some drawbacks to this: mainly the whole “not having money” thing. But, as I tell bill collectors, what is money anyway? You know who else didn’t have money? Jesus. I’m not saying we’re one in the same, but if he also stole his roommate’s laundry detergent, we’re two-for-two.

Even without money, I still like this way of making movies. There’s a sense of immediacy to it, the way you feel when you spill a beer on your laptop. It’s a real do-or-die scenario.

But, while I wrote, produced, directed, and then edited my first movie (in that order, if you can believe it), I missed out on a crucial step in the filmmaking process: waiting to hear back from people. I’ve heard it’s where the real “movie magic” happens (by which I mean, you become so despondent about your movie that you start contemplating a career in magic). So, it’s something I’ve been sure to set aside time for with my latest feature. Luckily, I set aside A LOT of time.

(This little girl is constantly checking her inbox.)

Having recognizable actors in your film is obviously a great way to help get people with money to give you said money, so we’ve been following that angle. Like in my first movie, I’m playing the lead role, but apparently I’m not a “recognizable actor,” or even very “likable as a person.” So, we’re looking to fill out the rest of the cast with people we love who also happen to be actors that audiences care about, in the hopes that it will offset the damage done by associating the film with me any more than it has to be.

Now, my first movie played at Sundance, but, of course, I’m still very unknown as a filmmaker. Let’s just say I’m no Penny Marshall (at least, not until the paperwork clears). So, when we approach these actors, I imagine that their first response is “Who? Some guy who’s changing his name to Penny Marshall? That’s really weird.” Naturally, it can take awhile for them to get to the script. But, that’s how it is with a project like this. There’s nothing saying “If you don’t jump on this, it’ll go to that YouTube kid, Fred,” which I’ve heard is “code: red” for actors. By the way, if the next “Fred” movie is called Code: Fred, I want some sort of royalties.

But, while that’s been coming along, Adele and I have started feeling that no-budget, DIY itch coming back, so we’re getting ready to do as much as possible ourselves. That’s actually comforting, though, coming from the world we started out in. I hope I’ll always keep that mindset: that the more you can do yourself, the less you need to rely on others. That’s why my third feature will have me in a fat suit playing every role.

If that’s not taking care business, I don’t know what is.

Bingo bango.