My DIY Documentary Filmmaking Life
why I am committed to place and telling stories from my own backyard
This post is part of a series I am doing where I answer questions emailed to me by emerging, fellow filmmakers. If you have a question, leave it in the chat and I will try to get to it!
How did you go about establishing yourself as a documentary filmmaker? Are there any tricks to finding work in the industry?
Establishing myself as a documentary filmmaker didn’t happen overnight—it was a combination of patience, persistence, making mistakes, learning from masters, and honing my voice through stories that mattered to me. I have been telling visual stories (seriously) since 2008. So for 16 years, I have had time to watch a lot of great films, and make a lot of bad work. That’s important. That is the process that has allowed me to make better work.
But when I reflect on how I established myself in the documentary world, it’s clear that my path has been anything but conventional. I didn’t come up through the ranks of the industry in the traditional way. I didn’t live in New York or Los Angeles, and I didn’t have access to the networks, resources, or studios that most people associate with breaking into film. My journey has been a DIY approach—one that’s deeply rooted in living frugal, telling stories in my own backyard, and being fiercely independent. This path has required a lot of grit and resourcefulness, but it has allowed me to carve out a space for myself in the industry while staying true to who I am and where I come from.
One of the biggest lessons I have learned is that there are no shortcuts. Authenticity, trust, and building relationships with your participants are key. I also made sure to attend festivals and apply for fellowships and labs—programs like the Sundance Documentary Institute and Tribeca Film Institute were pivotal in helping me build connections. Networking within these circles opened doors, but it’s important to remember that the foundation was the work itself. People trusted me with larger projects like HEROIN(E) and RECOVERY BOYS because they saw the passion, dedication, and care in my earlier films.
Starting in My Own Backyard
Early in my career, I decided to focus on telling stories that were close to me. By “close” I mean both geographically close, and close to my heart. This meant focusing my attention on my home region of Appalachia. I grew up in the coalfields of West Virginia, and from a young age, I felt the urge to tell stories about the people and places around me. These were stories that weren’t being told in the mainstream media—stories of resilience, survival, and community in a region often reduced to stereotypes of poverty and despair. This is not always the path of a filmmaker. Many filmmakers begin their careers by working on larger sets, interning at major studios, assisting directors or editors, or climbing the traditional industry ladder. But I never dreamed of a hectic life and felt it was more accessible (and fun) to start by telling stories that were right in front of me.
In 2013, when I made HOLLOW - my first major breakthrough project - it wasn’t because I had a lot of funding or connections. It was because I couldn’t stop thinking about McDowell County, a place that had lost 80% of its population due to the decline of coal. I didn’t need to travel far to find compelling narratives—these stories were happening in my own backyard. HOLLOW was innovative, blending digital storytelling with documentary film, and it resonated with people both inside and outside of Appalachia because of my own personal connection. It was also the product of collaboration with a team of talented folks whom I was studying with at Emerson College at the time. We made a project by being very scrappy and it paid off with recognitions from the Peabody Awards, Emmy Award (nomination), and a World Press Photo Award. When we finished the project, and launched it online, that’s when I realized the work was just ramping up. It was now my responsibility to become my own publicist. I looked to other projects in the interactive space to see who was writing about them and what awards were acknowledging those projects - and I just followed their path. Always look at the credits and websites of films that are similar to yours in tone, form, and style as you can discover a potential path forward of interested exhibitors, festivals, press and communities that will want your project.
Working locally and living cheaply was key to making this project happen. I was learning to do almost everything myself. By staying small and nimble, I was able to take risks that might not have been possible had I been working with bigger budgets and higher expectations.
The DIY Approach
As noted, in the early stages of my career, I didn’t have the luxury of relying on industry gatekeepers to greenlight my projects. Instead, I learned how to write grants, shoot my own footage, and edit my films. In order to make my first feature in 2009, I bought a refurbished camera from B&H and became a one-woman crew. I worked at a local newspaper getting paid $350/week to pay the bills. I can’t say it was a great time…but I can say it was a time that made me resilient. I wasn’t waiting for permission to tell the stories that mattered to me—I just went out and did it.
There’s no way around it - living cheaply was part of that DIY approach. I didn’t need to live in a major city where the cost of living was high. Instead, I stayed close to home (Charleston, West Virginia), where I could afford to dedicate myself to filmmaking without worrying about how I would pay rent. I made choices that prioritized storytelling over financial gain, and that gave me the freedom to follow my own vision rather than trying to fit into the mold of what the industry expected. This was just the beginning and I have since lived all over the Eastern seaboard, but I see this beginning as being very formative.
Telling Stories That Are Close to You
For many filmmakers, the path to success involves climbing the industry ladder—starting as a production assistant, working on bigger and bigger sets, and eventually getting the chance to direct or produce a feature film. That’s a valid path, and it works for many people, but it wasn’t for me. I didn’t want to spend years working on other people’s projects, hoping to eventually get the opportunity to tell my own stories. I wanted to start telling those stories right away. I found that the most compelling stories were the ones happening right around me. They weren’t flashy or glamorous, but they were real, raw, and deeply personal.
In HEROIN(E), we focused on the opioid crisis in Huntington, West Virginia, a place I knew well. I didn’t need to be in a big city or work with high-profile producers to get this project off the ground. I relied on the relationships I had built within the community, and I let the story grow organically. This local focus allowed me to tell stories with depth and authenticity, rather than chasing industry trends or trying to appeal to a broad, commercial audience. It was with those 10 days of filming that we were able to get a grant from The Center For Investigative Reporting that would end up funding the film. CIR would eventually sell the film to Netflix. But none of that was a reality those first 10 days we were filming. We had to start the work even when no one cared or was watching us.
The DIY path isn’t glamorous, and it certainly isn’t easy. There were times when I wasn’t sure how I would fund my next project or whether anyone would even see it. But by focusing on what I could control—my own storytelling, my own skills, my own community—I was able to create a body of work that reflects who I am and where I come from.
The Benefits of Independence
One of the biggest benefits of taking the DIY route is the creative freedom it affords. Because I’m not beholden to studios or industry gatekeepers, I have the freedom to take risks, experiment with form, and tell stories in ways that might not fit into the traditional documentary mold. This was especially true with HOLLOW, which was an interactive documentary—something that would have been hard to pitch in the traditional documentary world.
By staying independent, I’ve also been able to maintain a deep connection to my community. I’m not flying in and out of a place to make a film and then moving on to the next project. I’m embedded in these stories, living them alongside the people I’m documenting. That connection is what makes my work resonate with audiences on a deeper level.
The Trade-Offs
Of course, there are trade-offs to taking the DIY approach. Without the backing of a major studio or production company, I’ve had to do a lot of the work myself—writing grants, editing footage, building relationships with funders, being my own publicist. It’s a lot to manage, and it requires a different kind of stamina than the traditional filmmaking path.
But the trade-offs have been worth it. The work I’ve done has been deeply personal and meaningful, and I’ve been able to tell the stories that matter to me without having to compromise my vision.
I have been able to create a body of work that speaks for itself now. So for my latest project, KING COAL, I was able to pay all my collaborators and have a real budget to make a film that was truly creative (all thanks to Drexler Films and Narrow Vision Endeavors). It’s a hard truth, but no one is going to fund your early work. They didn’t mine. It’s best to not expect that…even if you end up being a lucky one.
Advice for Emerging Filmmakers
If you’re an emerging filmmaker, my advice is to start where you are. Don’t wait for the perfect opportunity or the perfect budget. Look around at the stories that are happening in your own community, and start telling them with whatever resources you have. Learn as much as you can about every aspect of filmmaking—shooting, editing, producing—so that you can be as self-sufficient as possible. Watch as many films as you can. Learn from the masters by reading interviews with them and how they made the films you love.
Living cheaply, being resourceful, and taking a DIY approach might not get you noticed by Hollywood right away, but it will give you the freedom to develop your own voice and tell the stories that matter to you. And in the end, that’s what will set you apart.
Special thanks to all the funders and supporters of my work over the years. None of my work would be possible without the support of:
MY HUSBAND, Curren Sheldon, who also happens to be the best cinematographer around.
MY COLLABORATORS: Molly Born, Billy Wirasnik, Clara Haizlett, Diane Becker, Shane Boris, Iva Radivojević, Peggy Drexler, Heather Baldry, Amanda Lebow (CAA), Elijah Stevens, Logan Hill, Mia Bruno, Jeff Soyk, and so many more!
MY FAMILY & FRIENDS who have fed me after long shoot days, babysat my children so I could film early mornings and late nights, and let me crash in their spare bedrooms.
HOLLOW: Kickstarter, Tribeca Film Institute, West Virginia Humanities Council, Documentary Educational Resources, West Virginia University Libraries
HEROIN(E): The Center For Investigative Reporting, Netflix.
RECOVERY BOYS: Chicken & Egg, Threshold Foundation, Chicago Media Project, Sandler Foundation, Good Pitch, Points North Documentary Forum, IFP, Southern Documentary Fund, Documentary Educational Resources.
TUTWILER: PBS Frontline, The Marshall Project, America ReFramed
KING COAL: Drexler Films, Narrow Vision Endeavors, PBS POV, The Gotham Film & Media Institute, Catapult Film Fund, West Virginia Humanities Council, Creative Capital, Sundance Institute Documentary Film Program, Open Society Foundations, Tribeca Film Institute Gucci Fund, Field of Vision, Guggenheim Foundation.
Journal Prompt:
- Think about the resources you have access to right now. What stories are happening in your community that you could start documenting today? How can you use your current skills and equipment to get started on a project? Write for 15-20 minutes about how you can take a DIY approach to filmmaking in your own life.