Starting Out in LA
I know it’s cliché to be a struggling filmmaker in Los Angeles, but the truth is…that’s exactly what I am. Ever since I was a kid sneaking peeks at scary movies I wasn’t supposed to be watching, horror has been my favorite genre. That early obsession grew into a passion for storytelling, and when I moved to Los Angeles, I knew I wanted to carve out a space as a woman directing horror films.
It hasn’t been easy. Every project I’ve tackled so far has required equal parts creativity, persistence, and sheer willpower. Most of my films have been no-budget affairs, full of unexpected disasters, last-minute problem-solving, and the occasional “why am I doing this to myself?” meltdown. And yet…that’s where the magic happens. Those chaotic little shoots have carried me from my scrappy first attempts, to film festival screenings, and now to my biggest leap yet: crowdfunding a larger, more ambitious project.
When I first moved to L.A. from North Carolina in 2017, I decided I wanted to start making my own short horror films because, quite frankly, there aren’t nearly enough women in horror, especially women directing horror. So I set a “simple” goal for myself: make short films.
My first few projects will never see the light of day and I’ve securely locked them away, but at the time, I was learning everything from scratch. At first, I didn’t have the confidence to write my own scripts, so I directed other people’s stories. Eventually, I realized that being able to write my own films was a huge advantage. Now, writing and directing feel like the same muscle; the second I’m writing, I’m already blocking shots, picturing lighting, and hearing the dialogue play out. It makes the directing process feel more intuitive and allows me to really shape the story from page to screen.
Making Static
In 2022, I decided to pick filmmaking back up after a few years spent on projects that left me feeling disappointed in my own work. That’s when I took a stab at writing a screenplay myself, brainstorming ideas with friends, and ended up with Static. I teamed up with a co-producer, and together we decided to try our first crowdfunding attempt. The goal was to create something higher-quality, and that’s exactly what we did. The film was brought to life entirely through donations from family and friends.
Static is a dark and disturbing horror/drama about a woman experiencing postpartum depression. I was nervous to release it into the world because of its heavy subject matter, but I think it’s important to tell stories that reflect real life and the issues women face. The themes in Static are some of the most terrifying real-life horrors I can imagine, and it felt necessary to explore them on screen, although that was very difficult to do with only a 12-minute runtime. The horror is rooted in reality, which to me is always more unsettling than any jump scare. I’ve always been drawn to horror that reflects inner fears and anxieties, the kind of movies where the terror comes from what could happen to anyone, and it sticks with you.
When I started submitting Static to film festivals, I was genuinely surprised at how it was received. Then, in January 2024, I won Best Female Director at the Borrego Springs Film Festival. The recognition was a total shock, but also a powerful reminder that I needed to keep going.
Darby After Dark
After Static came Darby After Dark. I wanted to make another film, but this time I knew I had to work with no budget again. We had just crowdfunded for Static, and it wasn’t even released yet, so crowdfunding again wasn’t an option. I decided to write Darby After Dark under the extreme limitations of having essentially no money to make it. I was inspired by Creepypastas and the paranormal games on Reddit, and I wanted to center the story on a woman in a radio station so that the set-up was simple; no company moves, no crazy camera set-ups, just a contained space where the tension and scares could unfold naturally.
I think my favorite part about Darby After Dark was how the art department brought the 70s-era radio station to life from nothing. Quite literally nothing. They transformed a spare bedroom with plain white walls that had been used as an office into the full radio station set. Without their creativity and dedication, the film truly wouldn’t be what it is. Watching them pull off that transformation reminded me why I love indie filmmaking so much; people show up with nothing but passion and make the impossible happen. It also reminded me that the best horror comes from resourcefulness; creating fear with imagination and atmosphere rather than a big budget.
The Micro-Short: Stay With Me
Next, I moved on to a micro short called Stay With Me. I wrote it specifically for my friend Vanessa, who had been an incredible support on Static, helping from the very start of the project all the way through production. I designed the character to reflect her personality, and the story was my own take on something like Lights Out: a micro short that’s simple, contained, and effective.
I thought, “it’s so short, it’ll be easy.” Famous last words. Stay With Me ended up being a masterclass in Murphy’s Law: everything that could go wrong, did go wrong. Some of it I’m not even going to get into here. But what I will say is the gaffer I had on board dropped out literally an hour before shooting, without even an excuse or reason, leaving us with just the one singular light that we had access to and whatever practical lights we could scrounge. I also tried to bring in an art director, but after touring the apartment, she decided there wasn’t much she could do with the plain bedroom. That left me scrambling to pick up decorations on Amazon, in an attempt to create the set decoration myself, even though I had no idea what I was doing. Despite these setbacks, and my existential crisis where I seriously considered whether I should just take up knitting instead…the rest of the team still showed up to make this little film happen.
Post-production has come with it’s own set of challenges as we’ve worked to solve issues from filming and get the story as close to my original vision as possible. That old “fix it in post” adage? Worst advice ever…but it taught me patience and resilience. Thanks to my entire team, we pulled a finished film together that’s now set to release on Halloween.
Lessons Learned
One of the most frustrating parts of no-budget filmmaking is knowing that a lot of the challenges we faced could have been avoided with more money behind the film. At the same time, I wouldn’t even have an almost-completed project if I had been waiting for a budget for a micro-short. That’s the catch-22 of no-budget filmmaking, you need credits and material to show in order to crowdfund and secure funding, but you need funding to eliminate many of the problems and create higher-quality work. Right now, I’m focused on building a solid directing portfolio so I can eventually move on to larger-scale projects.
Looking back on all these projects, from Static to Darby After Dark to Stay With Me, I can see how much I’ve grown as a filmmaker. I’ve also realized how my lifelong love of horror informs every choice I make as a director. I can’t emphasize enough how a reliable team, a backup plan for your backup plan, and a sense of humor when everything inevitably goes sideways are non-negotiable in this business.
What’s Next?
All of these experiences have led me to my next project, The Quiet Hours, a larger-scale short that I’m about to launch a crowdfunding campaign for in early October. It’s a story I’ve poured my heart into, and I’m excited to take everything I’ve learned so far and apply it on a bigger canvas. Updates will be posted on my Instagram (@macabreproductions) and any support, even just sharing the project, helps keep independent horror alive.
This journey has shown me that even in the messiest, most chaotic circumstances, passion, persistence, and resourcefulness can bring a vision to life. I’ve learned that making something is always better than letting a script sit on a shelf collecting dust. Even if it’s messy, imperfect, or no-budget, bringing a story to life teaches you more than any unproduced idea ever could.