Horror-comedy is a bizarre genre.  Most of the laughs are on camera, but most of the horrors occur behind-the-scenes.  As writer / producer / director of the cult series Grave Mood Rings, I've endured horrors beyond comprehension, all rooted in terrifying reality.

"Real horror is a fragile, glass-boned thing" (Carlos Clarens).  Forget so-called friends cancelling you for being honest about your discomforts, or the excruciations of struggling against a system that automatically suppresses original voices.  Forget crucial cheerleaders dropping away, or the irony of being unable to either sell or give away your labors of love.  Profounder horrors leave a creator as fragile as a glass skeleton.

"The real horror is that unless we stop it, it's just a prologue" (Uncanny X-Men Vol. 1).  Whereas a film or miniseries has a conclusion, an open-ended series can stop only if its creators decide to terminate it.  In the absence of a finish line, the show takes on its own momentum, turning the crew into minions.  It's not so much like riding an endless roller coaster but rather like building the diabolical track into infinity.  With no network to threaten cancellation, no viewership numbers of consequence, no budget to run out of, and no reliance on outside talent, an indie production can die only by its own hand, and that is a real horror.  Such a show is kept alive by intravenous feedings, by the very machine it has morphed into.  With no promotion or backing, the show is essentially incapacitated, impotent, in its own sort of pain and unfit to communicate.  Is it the show's life that's being prolonged, or is it the show's death?  What a horrible thing to contemplate.

"The real horror is what drove you onto that alien shore in the first place" (Jay Amberg).  Fellow creators may be able to relate — we might find ourselves in the midst of a project whose precise origin is hazy.  Even if we can pinpoint its genesis, we're all-too-aware that we couldn't foresee exactly where it was all leading, how complicated it would turn out to be, how big it would strive to become, or how it would morph along the way.  Though technically at the helm of our own undertakings, we are in fact strangers in a strange land.  The feeling is its own form of horror.

"The real horror is not in the shadows, but in that twisted little world inside our own skulls" (Jovanka Vuckovic).  "There is no force, no power from without which threatens me. ... The real horror is that which lies in myself" (Henrik Ibsen).  When we stop blaming the system, selfish "friends," and fickle audiences, we might confront the very personal tribulations that come with producing a long-running minus-zero-budget tv series.  Undistracted by outside voices, one must face and finesse one's inner demons.  Here are some tips I've developed along the way, in no special order:

1. As an Inhuman Resources Manager, remember to fill every vacancy within yourself with self-motivated inner demons possessing leadership abilities.  Realistically, we are living in a less-than-perfect world with less-than-perfect inner demons, but if we simply take steps toward improvement, we will move in the direction of world domination.  

2. This might be a good time to invoke the serenity prayer: "Lord of Storms, give me the grace to accept with serenity the atrocities I must commit, the courage to pass the spawn of my enemies through fire, and the wisdom to distinguish gargoyles from cheap garden ornaments."  

"The real horror is still to come" (Famous Monsters of Filmland #162).  The beat goes on.  Grave Mood Rings continues to laugh its way through the horrors.  Check it out at MysteryArts.com, Roku, and wherever you watch videos online.