Creative Samurai Don't Wait for the Phone to Ring
Every scribbler learns to embrace it eventually. Every actor, too.
The silence.
You pour yourself into a pitch or audition and then... nothing. No “pass.” No “thanks but no thanks.” Just the sound of your inbox doing its best ghost impression.
I was talking about this with an actor friend the other day. We were both laughing at how allergic Hollywood is to bad news. Nobody wants to be the person who tells you no. Casting, agents, execs. When it’s anything but yes, they all just... vanish.
At first, it feels cruel. Then you realize it’s cultural. The industry runs on positive energy and plausible deniability. Everyone’s terrified of burning a bridge or being quoted out of context. So silence becomes the default language of rejection.
No News Is the News
Backstage once said it bluntly: “If you don’t hear back, it means they went with someone else.”
Not personal. Just math. Hundreds of auditions. Dozens of candidates who could all do the job. Sometimes the team’s overwhelmed, sometimes they’re waiting on the lead to confirm, sometimes they just forget. Either way, the actor doesn’t get closure, and that’s by design.
The earlier you learn this, the less you will suffer. Most of the reasons you don’t get a role have nothing to do with talent. Maybe you look like the producer’s ex. Maybe the costume didn’t fit. You were too tall for the camera setup they’d already built. Maybe they already bought three specs about paranormal cops. It’s not you. It’s Hollywood’s version of the roulette wheel.
Don’t Wait for the Call
Waiting for the phone to ring is creative quicksand.
When you make the general or the audition itself the goal, the whole game changes. You prepare, you deliver, you leave it all in the room. Then you move on. No debrief. No self-flagellation. No “What could I have done differently?” You did the job. You showed up, told the story, and gave them something real. That’s victory.
Casting directors and studio execs don’t owe you any feedback. They’re sprinting through a thousand micro-decisions, internal politics, and regime changes, barely having time for pilates. So stop waiting for clarity and closure. Treat silence as the end of the mission.
The Samurai Mindset
There’s a samurai ideal I love: before battle, the warrior imagines they’re already dead. Once they accept this, they are free to fight without fear.
Actors and scribblers must use the same trick. When you audition, pitch, or send your script into the Hollywood void, imagine you’ve already been rejected. Now you can relax. The outcome’s off the table. You brought your A-game. You did your best work. You can walk away from the explosion like a hero. If the call does come, great. If not, you’re already onto the next thing.
Own the Week
There’s a rhythm most Hollywood hopefuls figure out: if you’re getting hired, the call usually comes on a Monday or a Friday.
That means the other five days are yours. So, don’t spend them in emotional purgatory. Spend them sharpening your blade. Train. Read. Rehearse. Shoot a short. Scribble up a new pitch or a spec. Or use that AMC Stubs pass at The Grove. Whatever keeps you inspired and in motion.
Redefine the Win
If you reframe every audition or general meeting as practice, you never lose.
Consider setting a “rejection quota.” Rack up 30 no’s this month. It sounds masochistic, but it flips the psychology. You start chasing reps like a Bushido Padawan hitting the dojo. Every audition forges inner strength and resilience.
I’m an F1 fan, so I think of every script I send out as another hot lap around Silverstone. You stop fearing failure because you’re busy clocking mileage.
That’s how you stay in the race long enough for the odds to get you onto the podium.
The Takeaway
The silence is the feedback. It comes with the dinner. So, don’t take it personally. Don’t wait for extrinsic validation. Just do your work, level up your skillset, and keep moving forward.
Remember, for the creative samurai, the silence isn’t a sign of rejection; it’s the cue for our training montage.
