Nicholas Rollo Mastery Journal Full Sail University Entertainment Business MS

Intention Statement

Pursuing an Entertainment Business degree was not a path I initially considered. After earning my bachelor's degree in screenwriting, my plan was to continue that momentum by applying to graduate programs in creative writing. Although the rejection letters I received were disheartening at the time, they ultimately became a blessing in disguise, allowing me to reevaluate my goals and uncover new possibilities.

In his book Mastery, Robert Greene writes,

“The Dimensional Mind has two essential requirements: one, a high level of knowledge about a field or subject; and two, the openness and flexibility to use this knowledge in new and original ways.” (pg. 178).

These words deeply resonate with me, as I have often struggled with imposter syndrome—particularly in professional settings. However, by the time I earned my bachelor’s degree at 31, I had already risen through the ranks in tech startups and transitioned into digital marketing, managing millions of dollars in revenue and inventory. This journey forced me to confront an undeniable truth: my success could not have been an accident.

Seeking guidance, I turned to my career counselor from LAFS, who recommended I explore the programs at Full Sail University. Although I was initially drawn to the MFA in Creative Writing, I realized an MS would offer a broader foundation, allowing me to grow both as an artist and as a well-rounded individual. As creatives, we dedicate countless hours to our work, often for little more than a chance to be noticed. I dream of building a production studio where artists can feel confident their voices will be heard, and their creations will come to life.

My vision is to support underrepresented communities by providing resources and opportunities to produce films, musicals, and other artistic endeavors that might otherwise remain inaccessible. I look forward to refining the business acumen I’ve gained through practical experience and applying it to both my creative and professional aspirations. With this MS, I hope to become not only a better artist but also a leader who empowers others to achieve their dreams.

Reference:

Greene, R. (2012). Mastery. Penguin Books.

Inspiration | 1

"Seize the moment, 'cause tomorrow you might be dead."

Inspiration | 2

On the anniversary of a tragic accident during Pride Weekend, a group of friends is hunted by a mysterious man in leather determined to make them pay for their deadly sins.

Bringing Pride to Life

Storytelling has always been my passion. Whether through writing, dance, or film, I’ve spent my life creating and shaping narratives that connect with audiences on a deeper level. My ultimate goal is to adapt my novel Pride into a feature film—one that I will star in and produce through my own production company. But before I get there, I need to take the first step: completing and publishing my novel. This next year is all about execution—refining my manuscript, building my audience, and making the right publishing decision. I’ve structured a clear plan that will keep me on track, ensuring that Pride is positioned for success while also laying the foundation for my long-term career.

Goal, Strategies, and Tactics

My short-term goal is to submit Pride for publication upon graduation, marking the first step in a larger creative journey. To make that happen, I’ve broken my process into five distinct phases, each designed to move me closer to publication while building industry connections and audience engagement.

Industry Connections & Involvement

Success in publishing isn’t just about writing a great book—it’s also about connecting with the right people. I’ve expanded my Professional Learning Network by engaging with industry professionals, Full Sail University communities, and external organizations.

Full Sail University Clubs & Communities

1. PRIDE Club – A space for LGBTQ+ students and allies to build leadership skills and create an inclusive creative environment.
2. Creative Writing Club – A hub for writers to exchange feedback, workshop stories, and develop professional writing skills.

Industry Organizations & Mentorships

• Following and engaging with publishing professionals, editors, and film producers who specialize in LGBTQ+ fiction and thriller genres.
• Attending virtual and in-person writing workshops to connect with potential mentors and industry contacts.

Writing Competitions & Short Story Publications

• Submitting excerpts from Pride to literary magazines and contests to gain early industry recognition and refine my writing style.

Every step of my plan is backed by research and industry best practices. One of the most useful resources I’ve referenced is Publishing E-Books For Dummies by Ali Wiley. This book provides practical insights into self-publishing, marketing strategies, and audience engagement, helping refine my approach.

Final Thoughts: A Year of Execution & Growth

By the time I graduate, Pride will be fully revised, published, and positioned for its next evolution—whether that’s in bookstores or on screen. This journey is about more than just publishing a book. It’s about building my brand as a writer and filmmaker, connecting with the right audiences, and setting the stage for future adaptations.

Through a combination of strategic planning, industry engagement, and research-backed execution, I’m taking actionable steps toward achieving my ultimate creative goal. I can’t wait to share Pride with the world and begin the next phase of this journey.

Reference:

Luke, A. (2012). Publishing e-books for dummies. Wiley.

Laid Off, But Not Laid Low: Leading Myself Through the Plot Twist

Throughout my life, I’ve held leadership roles in both professional and creative spaces, but it wasn’t until taking Executive Leadership that I truly explored what kind of leader I am—and, more importantly, the kind of leader I’m becoming. This course happened to align with a major life shift: I was recently laid off from the company where I’d worked for the last four years. While I’ve experienced layoffs before, this one felt different. It came at a time when I was already reassessing my purpose, priorities, and creative path. Through the teachings of John C. Maxwell and Robert Greene, I’ve begun to see this moment not as a setback but as a turning point—an unexpected chapter that’s challenging me to develop the leader within.

One of the most meaningful lessons I took from Maxwell is the importance of self-leadership. In Developing the Leader Within You 2.0, he writes, “The essence of self-leadership is doing the right thing even when you don’t want to do it, and not doing the wrong thing even when you do want to do it... When you determine your values, you’ve already decided what you will and won’t do” (Maxwell, 2018, p. 69). That line immediately brought my mom to mind—she’s said something nearly identical for years, and her voice is usually the one I hear when I hit a crossroads. The moment I got the call about the layoff, I called her. She reminded me, as always, to trust myself and lead from my values.

"When you determine your values, you’ve already decided what you will and won’t do." - John C. Maxwell

In the past, my instinct would’ve been to spend my severance on distractions—go out, party, and convince myself I was “processing.” Or, on the flip side, I’d rush to land another 9-to-5 just to restore the stability I was used to. But now, I’m pushing myself to take a different approach. I’m choosing to stay still and be intentional. I’ve carved out time to pursue creative projects that have long sat on the back burner. I’ve started writing again. I’m even thinking about auditioning—something I haven’t made space for in years. That question—when will I ever have this kind of time again?—has shifted from anxiety to empowerment. Self-leadership, I’m realizing, sometimes means betting on yourself before the world does.

Maxwell also says, “The people are why you do what you do as a leader... it’s how far you are able to take your people. That’s the purpose of leadership” (Maxwell, 2018, p. 76). That quote helped me reframe leadership as something rooted in connection. As a perfectionist, I have a tendency to retreat when things go wrong. I don’t like letting people see the mess—I wait until I’ve solved the problem before I tell anyone what happened. But this time, I made a conscious decision to be open, not in a sarcastic or self-deprecating way, but in a way that was honest and real. What happened surprised me: friends reached out right away, excited to collaborate. Several said they’d been waiting for a chance to work with me, but I’d always been too busy. That reminded me that I don’t have to do it all on my own. I can trust others to show up for me, just as I’ve shown up for them. Vulnerability, I’m learning, is a strength—not a setback.

"Be the only one who can do what you do." - Robert Greene

While Maxwell’s approach aligns closely with my values, I also find motivation in Robert Greene’s more strategic view of power. In The 48 Laws of Power, Greene writes, “Be the only one who can do what you do, and make the fate of those who hire you so entwined with yours that they cannot possibly get rid of you” (Greene, 2000, p. 165). That line lit a fire in me. I’ve always prided myself on being resilient, and I often find that I need a challenge to shake me out of complacency. Being laid off wasn’t a failure—it was a spark. It reminded me that I am the only person who can tell my stories. I’m the only me that’s ever been. And if I want the world to hear what I have to say—through art, through writing, through creative leadership—then I have to trust that this moment is preparing me for something greater. Nothing has stopped me before, and this won’t either.

If I had to define my leadership style today, I’d say I’m 90% Maxwell and 10% Greene. I lead with heart, clarity, and purpose—but I’m also strategic, self-motivated, and focused on creating lasting impact. I no longer see leadership as something tied to a title or paycheck. It’s how I move through uncertainty, how I show up for others, and how I continue to invest in the person—and leader—I’m becoming.

References

Greene, R. (2000). The 48 laws of power. Penguin Books.

Maxwell, J. C. (2018). Developing the leader within you 2.0. HarperCollins.

My Love Don’t Cost a Thing (But Movies Sure Do)

When I first set out to learn entertainment finance, I imagined dry spreadsheets and textbook formulas—useful, perhaps, but far removed from the messy reality of making films and writing scripts. Instead, this course gave me a concrete roadmap for everything I hope to achieve with Pretty Scary Studios.

The most powerful lesson came when I realized that finance isn’t an unapproachable monster lurking behind every creative idea; it’s a toolkit that brings those ideas into focus. Breaking down costs for crew, locations, special effects, and post-production turned vague concepts into realistic proposals. Rather than daydreaming about a “killer doll that comes to life,” I now know how to estimate prop fabrication, actor stipends, and contingency funds for reshoots. That process not only makes each project more tangible but also signals to investors and collaborators that I’m serious—I’ve done the math and can balance creativity with fiscal responsibility. The notion that “creatives don’t care about money” couldn’t be further from the truth; any filmmaker or writer who wants to work professionally must be fluent in numbers. By the end of this course, I found myself looking forward to budget sheets and revenue projections because they bridge the gap between “Here’s a scary idea” and “Here’s how we make it a reality.”

These lessons haven’t stayed confined to my professional work. Almost immediately, my partner and I began applying the same principles at home. When planning our summer vacation, we treated it like a mini production—creating a pro forma to estimate travel costs, lodging, meals, and entertainment, then adding a buffer to prevent overspending. That clear budget helped us choose between renting a beach house and booking a modest Airbnb, and it turned the trip into a well-executed plan rather than an anxiety-inducing gamble. We’ve also started treating long-term goals—like saving for a down payment—as “life productions,” using the same analytical mindset we apply to horror shorts. Mapping out projected expenses feels less intimidating now that I can draw on the budgeting framework I learned in class. As a result, financial planning has become an extension of my creative process: every story or production I imagine relies on resources, timelines, and strategic allocation of funds.

Looking back at the syllabus and all the exercises we completed, it’s clear that Entertainment Finance was more than a required course—it was a transformation in how I approach both art and life. I began expecting to learn “how to make budgets” and ended up understanding that financial literacy is the backbone of a sustainable creative career. Now, as I prepare to launch Pretty Scary Studios, I do so confident that I can match the horror I want to create with the finances that will bring it to life. Whether I’m pitching a short story collection, producing a micro-budget podcast, or planning long-term savings at home, I know I have the tools to turn my wildest ideas into fully realized projects—one line item at a time.

Marketing the Macabre: How Pretty Scary Studios Found Its Voice

When I started the Digital Marketing course, my goal was simple: learn how to market smarter. I wanted to ensure that the creative work I put into the world—especially the content through Pretty Scary Studios—wasn’t just seen but found by the right people. I wasn’t interested in surface-level reach. I wanted to create meaningful engagement with the queer horror community and beyond. This course helped me build the digital foundation to do exactly that.

From day one, I was immersed in strategic thinking—learning how to define my target audience, select digital platforms with purpose, and develop a brand voice that’s as cohesive as it’s authentic. Every project built on the last: audience profiles became SEO keywords, blog posts became campaign calendars, and content strategy became cross-channel rollout plans. Tools like Google Analytics, Mailchimp, and YouTube Studio used to feel intimidating. Now they feel essential.

The most significant shift for me came through understanding why each tool and tactic matters. I’m no longer guessing at what might work. I can define what success looks like—whether that’s 5,000 blog visits per month or a 35% email open rate—and track it through real metrics. The integration of creative storytelling with data-driven decision-making is something I’ll take with me far beyond this class.

Professionally, I’m walking away with a launch-ready plan for Pretty Scary Studios. Personally, I feel more equipped to lead with both intuition and insight. Digital marketing isn’t about chasing algorithms anymore—it’s about using the right tools to serve your message and your community with intention.

This course helped me clarify my strategy, strengthen my voice, and build a roadmap that’s as bold as my ideas. Glitter, gore, and now… Google Analytics.

Reference

Stokes, R. (2023). eMarketing: The essential guide to marketing in a digital world (5th ed.). Red & Yellow Creative School of Business.

The Horror of Management: And How I Learned to Love It

At the beginning of this course, I believed the principles of product and artist management were tools I’d have to save for later—something I could only apply once I was leading a team or managing other artists. I didn’t imagine they had much relevance to me right now. What I discovered, however, was that I am already the artist I manage, and the products under my care are my own creative projects: the novels, screenplays, and podcasts I’ve been developing for years. Realizing that shifted everything.

Throughout this month, I applied lessons from both Paul Allen’s Artist Management for the Music Business and Steven Haines’ The Product Manager’s Survival Guide directly to my work. Allen’s framework of planning, organizing, directing, and controlling reminded me that management is less about authority and more about creating structure that protects creativity (Allen, 2018). His emphasis on branding and communication helped me see Pretty Scary Studios not just as a label for my projects, but as a promise to an audience—a consistent, queer-horror voice across mediums. Haines complemented that approach with his product-management mindset: clarifying vision, setting measurable outcomes, and building feedback loops (Haines, 2019). These ideas gave me permission to treat my projects like products with lifecycles, not just passion projects.

The results were immediate. I completed the first draft of my debut novel—something I have worked toward for years—and designed a three-pronged marketing campaign to launch by Pride season 2026. I also laid the foundation for the Pretty Scary Podcast. In doing so, I revisited a pitch packet I had initially built for an interview with a major horror channel. Even though that opportunity didn’t come through, I was able to pivot the work I had done for someone else and apply it to myself. That experience reflected exactly what Allen and Haines emphasize: that product and artist managers must adapt, reframe, and seize opportunities, even in the face of setbacks. For the first time, I don’t just feel like a writer with scattered ideas; I feel like a creative entrepreneur with a roadmap.

This course exceeded every expectation. I thought I would walk away with hypothetical knowledge, but instead I’m leaving with a clear playbook and the confidence to execute it. Going forward, I plan to run Pretty Scary Studios with the same discipline Allen and Haines describe: leading with vision, measuring progress, and continuously refining. Most importantly, I now see that management isn’t something I’ll do “someday.” I’m already doing it—managing myself, my brand, and my future.

References

Allen, P. (2018). Artist management for the music business (4th ed.). Routledge.

Haines, S. (2019). The product manager’s survival guide: Everything you need to know to succeed as a product manager (2nd ed.). McGraw-Hill.

The Business of Fear: Publishing with Purpose

When I began Entertainment Media Publishing & Distribution, my goal was to understand how creative work makes the leap from concept to consumer—how stories like mine move through the publishing pipeline to reach the right audience. I wanted to demystify the business side of creativity, to learn how to bring my ideas to market without losing the authenticity or control that defines Pretty Scary Studios. This course delivered exactly that and more.

What stood out most was how publishing today offers more freedom than ever for independent creators. Through our exploration of platforms like KDP, IngramSpark, and Lulu, I discovered that self-publishing isn’t a compromise—it’s a business model built on empowerment. The idea that I can retain my rights, set my own price, and manage my brand directly resonates deeply with the mission of Pretty Scary Studios: to build queer-led horror stories that are bold, unapologetic, and independently owned. Understanding the distinctions between print-on-demand services, aggregators, and vanity presses allowed me to identify which platforms will best support PRIDE when I move into distribution next year.

These lessons came to life in my creative work this month. I wrote, recorded, and edited the Pretty Scary Podcast teaser trailer, then strategically distributed it through my website and social media to build early awareness. Applying the course’s principles of timing, visibility, and platform selection, I treated the teaser like a soft launch—testing distribution channels and measuring engagement. The promotional image I designed wasn’t just a visual update; it was an exercise in brand positioning, ensuring every audience touchpoint communicates the same tone: confident, campy, and cinematic.

This course also deepened my understanding of how intellectual property fuels brand ecosystems. Each Pretty Scary project—whether a novel chapter, a podcast episode, or a screenplay—exists not in isolation but as part of a shared universe. Concepts like copyright protection, ISBN registration, and global distribution gave me the structure to start thinking of Pretty Scary Studios as not just a creative outlet, but a sustainable publishing entity.

Moving forward, I’ll carry these insights into the next phase of my work: finalizing PRIDE, expanding the podcast, and preparing for the studio’s official 2026 launch. I now see publishing not as a finish line, but as the bridge between creative intention and audience impact. Through this course, I learned how to build that bridge with clarity, ownership, and heart.

Reference

Craft, K. (2024). A guide to mastering entertainment media: From production to promotion and release (5th ed.). Frequency 3 Media, LLC.

Project and Team Management Ain’t as Scary as You Think

When I enrolled in Project and Team Management, I honestly didn’t expect to be intimidated. I’d already completed a project management certification through Coursera, so I figured I was walking into familiar territory: define scope, build a schedule, manage risks, repeat. I assumed this course would mostly confirm what I knew and give me a structured refresher. Instead, it did something much more valuable—it took those concepts off the page and dropped them right into the middle of a real creative project. Somewhere between the PLOM, the PM Life Cycle, and the Pretty Scary Podcast: IT – Welcome to Derry plan, I realized project and team management weren’t nearly as scary as they sound. At its core, this course was about learning how to guide a project with intention from idea to completion: initiating, planning, executing, monitoring, and closing while staying aware of constraints, communication needs, and team dynamics (Verzuh, 2021). I found myself really enjoying both ends of that spectrum. On one side, I loved getting hands-on with the details—breaking big creative goals into smaller tasks, estimating realistic time frames, assigning responsibilities, and translating everything into a workable schedule. On the other side, I appreciated stepping back into the bird’s-eye view and seeing the entire Pretty Scary project mapped out in the WBS, Gantt chart, budget, and risk plan. That combination helped me move from “I think I know what I’m doing” to “I can show you exactly how this gets done.”

Working through the podcast plan also changed how I think about teams, even when I’m technically a team of one. Developing stakeholder profiles, communication strategies, and risk responses forced me to imagine how an audio engineer, marketer, researcher, designer, and community manager would collaborate on this project. That’s my mini-lesson for anyone in entertainment: treat your passion project like a real production, even if you’re filling multiple roles yourself. The tools we used in this class—PLOM, PM Life Cycle, WBS, budget, and risk register—aren’t just academic exercises. They’re rehearsal for the moment you’re coordinating actual collaborators, deadlines, and deliverables. Going forward, I plan to bring this same mindset to Pretty Scary Studios, non-profit projects, and my larger writing and publishing goals. That means starting with a clear scope, a realistic schedule, and an honest view of constraints, rather than diving straight into the fun, creative parts and hoping it all works out. If you’re another creative reading this, my encouragement is simple: project and team management aren’t the monster under the bed. Start with one project you care about, break it into tasks, map out your timeline, and give yourself the structure you’d gladly give someone else. The more you practice, the more you’ll see that these tools don’t kill the magic—they make sure it actually makes it to the finish line.

Reference

Verzuh, E. (2021). The fast forward MBA in project management (6th ed.). Wiley.