[EDITORIAL NOTE: This blog has been lovingly enhanced with original art from my comic series "Seminal Works", featuring myself (Krumbine), the angry, drunk Professor, and a quick cameo by Lincoln Squatch.]
I can't believe I'm saying this (again), but don't be an asshole.
That's my job.
Let's set aside quality and whether or not a creative work is objectively (or even subjectively) good. Instead, let's talk about friends, family (chosen or otherwise), and other random internet people that are deserving of creative support.
I've spent the past 10 years in various professional creative environments and a 35-year-lifetime in the middle of personal creative development -- which is to say, I've experienced a spectrum of support, both good and (really, unbelievably fucking) bad.
Here are some helpful tips on how you can avoid being the bad kind of supportive friend.
(Or: How To Be the Bad Kind, if You're an Asshole)
How to Maintain Friendships and Influence Positive Creative Growth -- or -- Six Tips on Giving Helpful Feedback (Without Being an Asshole) | a musing by Jordan Krumbine
Let’s be honest: it comes up.
There’s a lot of writing online and not all of it is great. Sometimes good can be a pretty big leap, for that matter.
On the other hand, maybe the writing is okay -- better than bad, right? -- but it just didn't click with you as a reader.
Either way, the walls have closed in, the lighting has gone dramatic, and suddenly you find yourself in the horrifying position of providing feedback to your creative friends.
It’s a theme that pops up a lot in Twitter’s #WritingCommunity and even if it's not writing -- it could be a video, an illustration, music, really any creative endeavor -- these tips will ensure that the feedback you're providing is both constructive and supportive.
If you still blow it and piss off your creative friends, well, that's on you, you horrible fucking, insensitive monster.
Let’s get into it!
A lonely, frustrated writer has a terrifying brush with popularity after he falls victim to a mysterious influencer with 2.2 million followers.
ESTIMATED READ TIME: 60 minutes
Click here to read on Wattpad.
**Make no mistake, the following is a mature horror story and contains graphic scenes of self-mutilation.**
I'm on a quest to find a better way to engage with my fellow creatives on Twitter! I'm professional video editor by trade, and since most people have something to promote (even if it's just themselves) I decided to offer custom-made gifs during my Wednesday #WizardingComplete⚡️ Twitter Animation Party.
The fourth edition of this party took place August 5, 2020. Here are some of custom gifs I animated for fellow creatives! Be sure to mark your calendar and follow me on Twitter to join the party next week!
I'm not gonna mince words here. Video editing is sexy as fuck.
Sure, there's a lot of tedious grinding (ten hours of footage don't magically become a solid 90-second edit by itself), meticulous organization (what happened to that sequence we lost from an edit seven revisions ago? No problem, I've got it right here), and more man hours than most normal men know how to fill.
And did I mention the grinding? There's a lot of grinding.
But even with all of its unsexy bits flapping in the breeze for everyone to laugh at, video editing is still sexy as fuck.
Because once you've paid your dues on a project and ground your way through the tedious bits (or paid an assistant do them), the video editor sits at the helm of the most creative ship.
I paint with moving pictures and my canvas is the Final Cut Pro timeline.
Maybe it's footage I shot myself--or maybe the footage comes from a fellow creative wizard, an expert behind the camera that can turn every shot into a cinematic masterpiece--or, as is often the case in this profession, the person is the exact opposite and my job as a video editor is to overcome the creative shortcomings exhibited behind the camera.
My point is that, regardless of the footage, the video editor is the person who makes the story happen.
Sitting at the helm of this most creative ship, I navigate the narrative, control the soundtrack, and deftly maneuver every twist and turn with flourish and aplomb.
I can make you laugh.
I can make you cry.
I can make you gasp.
I can make you sigh.
And if I'm good at my job, I do it all completely behind the curtain, invisible to the casual observer.
That's right. Despite the typical viewer staring at literally every second of my work as a video editor, if I've don't my job well, you won't notice it at all.
You'll be too busy paying attention to the story.
You shouldn't see the seams. You shouldn't see the failures behind the camera (I already fixed it in post!). You shouldn't hear sloppy audio cuts or music that doesn't fit--brutal edits that slap you in the face, jarring you away from the most critical element.
There should just be story.
Lovingly shaped, enhanced, polished, and made to shine through the expertise of a video editor.
I'm telling you ... it's sexy as fuck.
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ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Jordan Krumbine is a professional video editor, digital artist, and creative wizard currently quarantined in Kissimmee, Florida. When not producing content for the likes of Visit Orlando, Orlando Sentinel, or AAA National, Jordan is probably yelling at a stubbornly defective Macbook keyboard, tracking creative projects in Trello, and animating quirky videos with LEGO and other various toys.