Test Reel Day Two - Response to TV Show Viewers: Post 28

(Response to TV Show Viewers: Post 27 - March 23, 2026)

This Response to TV Show Viewers series is unwinding into a written accounting more in depth than I had originally set off to share. It’s rooted in my intent to answer questions about my experiences working with and for the home improvement networks making American Rehab Charleston and Restoring Charleston. Plus, it feels healthy to sort through these memories to get better clarity.   

For those of you curious if or when I’ll get to what you’re most interested in, please don’t hesitate to email me at bloodsweatandpigsears@hotmail.com and if it’s alright with you, I’ll address your questions twofold; there/now and also here/eventually. Within the gap I’ll just keep on truckin’ as memories are coming back to me.

The first day of filming for my test reel had been silky sailing, enjoyable and leaving me feeling as if I’d come through enough for the producers to have footage of me for what they would be creating for the HGTV/DIY programing director who’d sent them. But then we hit a bumpy patch when the showrunner directed me to look down the barrel of the camera and say, “My name is Trent, and I’m addicted to rehab.”

I didn’t freeze. I just wouldn’t do it. Then the showrunner’s follow-up behavior made it all the more bizarre for me, with her acting as if she was unaware of what she’d asked or why I gave her the Heisman.

The next morning, I learned that day two would be abbreviated. Rather than eight hours of filming, we’d wrap before lunch, leading me to wonder if my chance to work in television, in any capacity, was coming to an end after a day and a half.

I had no feelings of regret. I’d had an interesting experience. I’d seen and learned some things with parting gifts of stories to tell down the road. I was glad I’d not moved over the line and mimicked Nicole Curtis with cameras running and my words being recorded. And by night’s end, I’d fallen back into the excitement of starting my upcoming project house at the end of next week, my head and heart both in the same good place.

(Response to TV Show Viewers: Post 29 - Coming Soon)       

Showrunner Shake Off - Response to TV Show Viewers: Post 27

(Response to TV Show Viewers: Post 26 - March 20, 2026)

When the interviewer teased, “C’mon, Trent. Act like you’re a little excited about getting your own TV show,” it sent my mind racing.

My brain began to replay phone calls, both with HGTV/DIY and the company this crew worked for. No one on either end had mentioned this being a chance to have a show of my own. I was sure of it. Maybe this showrunner thought the network had spoken to me on this or the other way around.

Up until this point, the first day of filming this thing the network called the “test reel” had felt seamless, mundane almost, just a different type of work in many ways. I mean, it was out of the ordinary to have people following me with a camera as I walked and talked about home renovating. But I settled in by mid-morning. I fell into a rhythm doing my part, delivering for them either good or better than they’d expected. I may have been imagining this, but it was effective speculation because it calmed my nerves and gave me something to build upon.

Even though it jolted me, I got over any implications now floating in my melon and all the questions that poured in over the prospect of me having my own show.

The woman resumed her progression down the list of questions, and at first, I was cruising, on track once more. Even though this more formal interview process was unfamiliar territory, I was solid within my POV, since I’d been speaking on it for over a decade and then driving those points home online for the last several years.

However, the sit-down was derailed when the showrunner crossed what I felt was a demarcation in her directing, saying she needed me to look into the camera and say, “My name is Trent, and I’m addicted to rehab.” 

But right away, it felt wrong. I must have stared at her for a full second or two, and then shook her off, like a pitcher who got a sign from the catcher and signaled, nope.

She seemed dumbfounded, her mouth falling open slightly.

“I’m not gonna say that,” was what spilled from my lips.

Had my day of delivering filled my ego to the point that I now wanted to spread my wings and strut?

No. It really hadn’t.

I knew how I was feeling. It wasn’t self-assurance or cockiness. I was disappointed along with feeling ruffled about being put on the spot so cavalierly, without any sort of tiptoeing. The camera was rolling. All my words were being recorded, and it was just—Boom! Say this thing. Cross this bold bright line. 

With me temporarily dug in, the showrunner frowned and her confused look led to her asking, “What? Why not? What’s wrong?”

This reaction amazed me. I thought some things were just understood. The production company had sent me the Rehab Addict DVDs. I’d watched them and so I answered back, “That’s Nicole Curtis’ thing.”   

Then this weird moment devolved even more as the young woman asked, “What do you mean? Who’s Nicole Curtis?”

And that had me thinking, Is she kidding around with me? She represents the production company making Rehab Addict, but doesn’t know who Nicole Curtis is?

This wasn’t adding up.

To me, her question would be like an alleged basketball coach asking, “What’s a technical foul?” or “Where’s the baseline?” since Curtis and her show were featured regularly on multi-hour marathons, on both HGTV and DIY. To an average Joe like me, the female rehabber seemed like one of the dual network’s brightest stars.

My next thought was that this crew leader was lying to me and that wasn’t great either.

I felt confused and disoriented.

Not knowing what to say next, I stumbled into an explanation about how the phrase more-or- less belonged to Ms. Curtis, that it was a big part of who she was, or something like that. 

Fortunately, the audio technician nearby was tracking with me and he chimed in saying, “Yeah. That’s what Nicole says at the beginning of each episode.”

We resumed our Q&A segment, but the vibe had shifted in one moment.

I felt as if I’d been tested. I wasn’t sure if I’d passed or failed,

The smooth fun day would be marked mainly by the blowout we all experienced while speeding down the home stretch of day one. I’m not overly self-assured. But in the moment when put on the spot, I’d been unequivocal.

It had been a long day. We all needed rest and I was feeling added focused to give this crew even more to help me impress the network executives on day two.

(Response to TV Show Viewers: Post 27 - Coming Soon)

Finding My Test Reel Filming Stride - Response to TV Show Viewers: Post 26

(Response to TV Show Viewers: Post 25 - March 18, 2026)

The Rehab Addict DVDs, sent to me from the show’s production company in Minnesota, had arrived without any note or instructions. Because of this, I watched and considered them as some sort of general prep preceding the film crew being flown in to meet up with me. I’d set aside two full days for these visitors to capture footage of me walking and talking for what the network director had called a “test reel,” what her assignee called "the sizzle.”

Leading up to this Thursday/Friday filming, arrangements had been made to begin at an architectural salvage operation in North Charleston. These plans had been a collaborative effort between me, the warehouse owner, and young lady introduced as “the showrunner”—a job title I’d never heard before but one I appreciated a lot because it felt like an insider sort of term. To me, this preliminary effort felt like a friendly indicator that I was stepping into something worthwhile.

Buying a house involves a lot of people, often strangers, working together—buyer and seller, realtors, inspectors, closing attorneys and paralegals, and sometimes bank reps. And once into the renovating, there is scheduling and coordinating, weaving of a long collection of vendors, subcontractors, tradespeople, and inspectors with me directing the activities and answering questions as needed beginning to end. So, for this experience to start off with comparable teamwork, with producers in New York, Minnesota, and Los Angeles working with me, it seemed auspicious and eased my nerves.     

At the starting location, I met the four-person film team. Along with the young woman in charge, there was a cameraman, an audio technician, and the crew’s grip—a biggin who looked like a former linebacker doing many nontechnical tasks and the bulk of production equipment schlepping. And the fifth person in the mix, the warehousing boss lady, lingered in the background, on standby to provide any support the crew might need.

Both the showrunner and guy operating the camera had come by way of Los Angeles. And something about their Hollywood good looks caused me to wonder if these heartbreakers had each headed to LA after high school and then snagged roles on the production side as means to pay bills between auditions and acting jobs. The audio tech looked brainier, sporting glasses and a knowing, yet friendly grin, while the heavy lifter turned out to be a fun-loving joker. All four of these producers were super cool, warm, and friendly with me, as if to say, “We just met you, but we’re your new temporary friends sent here to help you shine.”

*

The first part of filming the test reel was slow and building. I walked through the warehouse pointing at materials and fixtures as I described them. This wasn’t too tough, only a bit tricky since there was cluttered-up a randomness to the entire space. It was an inspiring setting for sure, but I had to watch myself as I moved about for the crew.

We progressed to what felt like more challenging trials or drills, with the showrunner directing me to walk down a specific aisle or size up a hanging fixture. Then they had me pick up and examine an item on a shelf, through a gap in a way that, if I did it correctly, would allow for the camera to frame me within a shot. I was able to do it as they’d hoped the first time, with reactions of smiles and one unhidden exhale. They’re rising buoyancy helped me settle in, allowing me to feel as if I was delivering for them on camera.

Midday, we traveled to the project house I’d own in a week. The real estate agents had coordinated with the seller, so we’d have access to the property for the remainder of the afternoon. After the crew and I ate our delivered lunches—deli sandwiches, chips, and drinks—I took them on a filmed tour of the house, inside and out, with me explaining what I intended to do and how I would do it. As it grew dark, preparations for my interview were made in the foyer.

It had been a long, full day, but I was feeling great, solid, comfortable. I was doing it, all these new and different things. I felt settled in, yet I was quiet, deep in thought as I took a seat on the provided stool as lights were positioned and then illuminated. Something about my expression, posture, or demeanor must have seemed less than enthusiastic, and the showrunner playfully said something like, “C’mon, Trent. Act like you’re a little excited about getting your own TV show.”

What is she talking about? I thought. My own show? Me?

(Response to TV Show Viewers: Post 26 - March 23, 2026)

The Rehab Addict DVD Package - Response to TV Show Viewers: Post 25

(Response to TV Show Viewers: Post 24 - March 16, 2026)

After being invited to send in videos to New York, a programming director connected me with a production company in Minneapolis. At the end of a brief phone call, my contact there directed me to keep an eye out for a package. And a few days later, a small box arrived with four DVDs of the popular show Rehab Addict.

Each twenty-one-minute program was raw, but intact, including introductions with the host’s signature pledge to return the houses “to their former glory” before the opening sequence ending with, “My name is Nicole, and I’m addicted to rehab.” It was exciting to be on the receiving end of these roughcut versions that included time gaps of silent darkness that matched up where commercial breaks would be inserted. With no past involvement in TV, receiving these recordings made me feel like a privileged insider.       

Over the last year and a half, I’d blogged about Rehab Addict and its host half a dozen times, and the series had been part of my conversations with the director in Manhattan as well. Did Team Rehab Addict in Minnesota not understand that I was already familiar with their hit series? I wondered.  

My wife had been right about the popular TV rehabber knowing about this blog, at least enough for Nicole Curtis to add a comment to a post about her and her show. So, I was in no position to discount Diann’s suggestion that the network or it’s rising star might be considering a project in a warmer part of the country like South Carolina. After all, I was from the Midwest and understood full and well about the long, cold winters. Diann’s out loud thinking, that maybe I was being considered to work on one of her project houses, was emerging as a reasonable possibility.

The episodes of Rehab Addict featured on the DVDs were full of men assisting the blonde house saver. There were some women, but by and large, there were mostly tradesmen, craftsmen, and other males framing or busy with trim out, hanging doors, or serving as general worker bees in scenes within each disk.  

One of the episodes featured a condemned house, so I’d likely feel right at home. Being on screen with the popular host, either regularly or occasionally would be thrilling for me, my family, and friends.

And seeing all that went into making any sort of television show sounded like an amazing experience, a solid break to add a noteworthy footnote to my resume. The various men in these episodes didn’t speak a lot but helped Nicole sort things out on camera in a way that looked familiarly relatable. Not only would that be something I could do, but it also looked like rewarding work with the final transformations being part of the payoff.         

I still had my three objectives for the blog, (See Blog with a Dog Named Cerberus) and even though working in TV wasn’t one of them, an opportunity to be involved with Rehab Addict seemed like a stepping stone that could lead me to future clients, motivated sellers, or folks who might help me make further inroads into writing.  

(Response to TV Show Viewers: Post 26 - March 18, 2026)

Speaking with the Monster of Confidence - Response to TV Show Viewers: Post 24

(Response to TV Show Viewers: Post 23 - March 16, 2026)

If this is your first time reading any of this series, or you’ve missed, skipped, or fallen asleep reading previous posts, I’d like to provide a brief recap if you don’t have time to start at the beginning.

I buy and fix up old homes in the Berchador region of the South Carolina Lowcountry. My niche has been condemned and abandoned houses that some have compared to properties Nicole Curtis was taking on in her hit series Rehab Addict on HGTV and the DIY Network. In 2012 I wrote an article about her on this blog, and she read it before leaving a comment.

In September 2013, a Director of Original Programming and Development representing these networks invited me to send in an introductory video. These five or six minutes of amateurism made a good enough impression that the networks wanted to send people down to meet my family and me. They never said what it was for and I didn’t care because it was cool and fun and I was too flattered to ask a lot of questions. I just hoped to keep learning more about the world of television because it was all foreign to me, exciting and intriguing.

The actual day for the big visit would be settled after I spoke with the Minneapolis production company. Along with being eager to meet and work with a film team dispatched by the popular home improvement networks, it simply meant a lot to have them willing to invest time, attention, and resources on me for something the director called a “test reel.”

My wife Diann had been willing to speculate more than me, and her logic sounded reasonable. She thought the programming lead might be scouting for prospective shows, maybe for projects based around their rising star, Nicole Curtis. Maybe Team Rehab Addict was coming our way, to a warm weather site that would allow them to sidestep an upcoming Minnesota winter? Or was I being considered to be the featured homeowner explaining my hopes and plans for my next renovation?

It all sounded exciting, but I also wondered if I might be in the cross hairs for something else, maybe a network contest with other DIYers or perhaps part of an assembled crew assigned to a house with potential. Those sounded amazing too and I felt like I could really rock and roll on those sorts of opportunities.

I didn’t need to ask a lot of questions. I just wanted to experience more of this entertainment industry.

*

Although the director for HGTV/DIY in Manhattan described what
she wanted to produce as a “test reel” and wanted it done next week, the man representing the Minnesota production company was working off another set of plans.

They were unavailable next week. Instead, this guy wanted to come November 7^th and 8^th, closer to two weeks out to get footage for what he called the “sizzle reel.”

I told him I’d leave both days open.  

He seemed friendly enough, but more than excitement matching the director in New York, the overriding impression this fella gave off was monstrous confidence; sureness I found enviable. He was unwavering on what he and his company could do, proud of producing Rehab Addict. Their brief history was full of success. They had the recipe to the “secret sauce.” That was why the network was sending them to South Carolina.

We discussed my upcoming project and it’s closing on November 15^th, the week after his crew would come meet and film me.  

Then this monster of confidence asked me something like, “Do you think we could see it, inside?”

“Before I actually own it?” I asked.

That’s what he was hoping for. He mentioned walking the house with me, filming me talking about my plans for the redo.

I explained how I’d only been in it once, and then said something like, “I’ll get in there after we close. That’s when I’ll measure and draw it out. Then I’ll use that to start reworking it on paper.” I wanted him to temper his expectations and added, “Until then, there’s a lot I don’t know.” The house and before layouts were still on my horizon. There was so much to learn and understand.

Still, the MoC really wanted me to see if we could get in when they came down. So, I assured him that I’d call my realtor, explain the situation, and see if we could score some early access.

Before we ended the call, the Minnesota producer explained how he would not actually be coming, but that I would be in capable hands. Finally, this man asked for our home address, then advised me to be on the lookout for a package from them. He mentioned how they’d be DVDs he wanted me to watch before his people came to meet me in November.

And with that, the call ended. I had a date to mark on the calendar that I could now share with my wife and some marching orders to put me in motion. 

(Response to TV Show Viewers: Post 24 - March 18, 2026) 

Dude’s Actually a Lady - Response to TV Show Viewers: Post 23

(Response to TV Show Viewers: Post 22 - March 13, 2026)

In my early years as a general contractor, I built a new home for an older lady. In some ways she reminded me of my late grandmothers, and we worked well together ironing out creases in the gray areas. Although there were nonnegotiables on this house, things we both knew she had to have or things I quickly realized she really wanted, there were times when I’d need her to make a call. Eventually, she fell into a frequent habit of answering me with, “I don’t know. Just surprise me.” She trusted me and I felt the same about her.

When this elderly client heard I’d be passing through the land down under, she began to present me with books from a historic fiction series she owned called The Australians. She’d hand me one or two and I’d place them in my truck. Eventually I had the complete set on the back seat of the F-150.

I felt I owed this widow a courtesy effort I could report back with. At the least I had to get a taste—the intro and a few chapters deep into book one. However, I ended up plowing through all twelve, thousands of pages, which took years. But I truly loved them. And when I finished, I wanted more.

Actress Scarlett Johanssen

As I began to scour the internet for a thirteenth book or more works by this writer, I learned that William Stuart Long was the pen name of a prolific female author. For years, I’d thought I was reading the words of a man, wondering at times about this guy writing some of the hugging and kissing scenes within this epic saga.

Thinking further, I imagined that in the time this woman had written these novels, it might have just been more practical to have folks think it had all been written by a male novelist. Now, times have progressed enough that this series is published with Vivian Stuart printed on the front covers.

The Director of Original Programming and Development had a gender-neutral name that was most commonly used by men. So, when I responded with my first email, spoke into the camera for the videos my family and I made, and sent them up to New York City, I’d been assuming wrongly that a man was on the other end of these answers back. This is all minor, and I’m only mentioning it because when this person answered the phone, I was surprised that he sounded like a young lady, not the imagined fellow I was expecting to start talking with.

The director was charming, enthusiastic with warm, positive things to say about my family and I and what we’d submitted. And she was very down-to-earth, easy to talk to as she explained the network’s excitement about my willingness to speak with them. This woman came out of the phone as impressive, reminding me of many people I knew or had known, the sorts of friends I held no hesitations in trusting or confiding in. She just seemed like a normal type person that could be a neighbor next door or a fellow parent at one of our kid’s schools.  

So, when she said something like, “If you have time, I’m going to fly a film crew to spend a couple days with you next week,” I was past openminded. And when she added, “It’s the production company that makes Rehab Addict,” my thinking went something like, “This makes sense,” since I had this manufactured roundabout logic of Nicole Curtis commenting on my blog, leading to her team, and then back to Manhattan and the HGTV/DIY networks.

It’s nonsensical, but that was how my brain was sorting through and processing peculiarities that had culminated into this conversation with a TV executive in Manhattan.

The director explained a little about how the channels she represented were part of the Scripps family that included the Food Network. Although they had some “in house” production teams, most of their shows were filmed and produced by companies spread coast to coast or even other countries. The company who would be coming to meet me was based in Minneapolis where Rehab Addict was filmed.

For a guy raised on a small farm in Ohio, now living out amongst the swamps of lower Carolina, it was all way beyond simply exciting. It was right there on the edge of unbelievable.    

We had a great talk, this young female director and I, leaving me eager and grateful for a chance to work with such impressive, dynamic people.

I didn’t call and tell my wife about any of this since it felt like news to share in person, and I wanted some time to wrap my noggin around what had been revealed.   

Diann broached the subject when we were together later that evening asking, “Hey, have you heard back from the HGTV guy?”

“Yeah, today.”

“What?” my wife asked with a disbelieving laugh.

“Uh. But it’s not a guy. He’s a she.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, I’m sure,” I snapped back. “We talked. It’s a woman.” Then after an intentional pause, I dropped the sugar cube. “And she wants to send a crew to film me next week.”

“Are you messin’ with me?” Diann asked next. It was sudden news to her, while I’d had some hours to mull it all over.

“I’m serious,” I said, before then adding something like, “She’s going to fly them out. It’s Nicole Curtis’ production company. The people who make Rehab Addict.”

Then Diann said something along the lines of, “It’s because she’s been reading your blog.” Ms. Curtis’ comment was a source of strange adhesive pride for both of us. I liked the fact that the famous host had taken time to type six words and a smiley face emoji at the foot of my article about her and her show. While my wife was thrilled that this comment confirmed her intuitive abilities, more pointedly regarding the blonde rehabber even knowing about this blog.

Then Diann asked if money—bank account info or any form of credit card payment—was part of this opportunity. And if so, how much. I explained how the woman had not mentioned me paying them or them paying me. And I felt she was trustworthy.

Then my wife asked which days they’d be coming the following week. I wanted to know too and said, “I’ll know more tomorrow when I talk to the production company.”

And that was the end of the discussion for twenty-four hours. For the rest of the night and the next morning we just let this development sink in.   

(Response to TV Show Viewers: Post 24 - March 17, 2026)

When HGTV/DIY Asked Me to Call Them - Response to TV Show Viewers: Post 22

(Response to TV Show Viewers: Post 21 - March 11, 2026)

I’ve already described how rehab addict Nicole Curtis made a tiny comment on my blog, and because of that gesture I began writing posts that might lead to an opportunity in television. So, there’s no need to go over all that again. Eventually, this goofy plan more or less worked, culminating in me receiving an email from HGTV/DIY, an invitation to submit a pair of introductory videos with my family.

These two recordings were far from buttoned up and silky smooth, and I wasn’t even sure these attachments would be openable by the recipient. Rather than following up, I only wondered as I shifted my focus to reach an agreement to buy my next project house just outside of Charleston, South Carolina.    

Because of the wishy-washy circumstances, Diann and I didn’t tell anyone about the email or us and the kids making the videos for the networks—not with friends, family, neighbors. Not anyone. On one hand, I’d been passively after some chance to work with HGTV or DIY. But it was so subtle, it hardly made sense that it might have actually led to some undefined opportunity.

“What are you sending in a video for?” my wife Diann had asked.

My best answer was a shrug. And the truth was, I didn’t know or care about specifics on what we were submitting for. It was just exciting to receive the email and I was growing more curious if it would lead to a response coming back to us.

I hadn’t directly made the first move. I’d made overtures in my own way. And my twisted ipso facto logic made me think it had led to the director of programming in New York City reaching out. And that made it not completely 100% random, and along with my faith, this behind-the-scenes history caused me to not be as worried as if it had come completely from out of the wild blue. The bottom line was that I thought any and all of it was exciting and cool, a great story to tell grandchildren someday if nothing else.  

There was no sureness on my part about how I’d come across on camera. But I knew Diann looked beautiful, sounded really sweet when she’d spoken, and the kiddos were cute and fun and entertaining. I was pleased with how I’d been able to deliver my thoughts, and the way I’d managed to block out distractions of toys getting tossed from the backyard treehouse while addressing the director’s questions. If what I’d sent could be opened, I held some strange confidence that the video would generate a positive response of some sort. I just wasn’t sure what that would mean though.

A couple weeks later I received an email. It was from the programming director who sent the original letter, asking for a call on their cell phone. After a year and a half of subtle attempts to make contact with someone with HGTV or DIY, the Director of Original Programming and Development was emailing with a two-sentence message. “Would love to talk to you! Can you call me on my cell?”

What?

Someone wearing hats representing both home improvement networks wanted to speak with me? And they were providing their cell number?

I took a second to soak in the reality. Then I dialed the number.  

(Response to TV Show Viewers: Post 23 - March 16, 2026)

Finding the Next Project House - Response to TV Show Viewers: Post 21

(Response to TV Show Viewers: Post 20 - March 9, 2026)

One question I’ve heard for decades goes something amounting to, “What’s the hardest part about working for yourself buying and renovating your own houses?” People are curious about financing, inspectors, the difficulties with finding subs to hire, etc. For me, the big hurdle to overcome has most often been finding the right property.

I always preferred having something to salvage, half or more of the structure, if that makes sense—a potential starting position once I cleared away debris and decay. And having a motivated seller was always helpful.

Once I got married, it grew even more challenging since, along with the other ideals, I had to start factoring in distance from our house, the kid’s schools, and how I could complete the job without being there nearly as much. Fortunately, I’d checked all my boxes enough times to know that I’d fall in love with my next project sooner or later.   

Before marriage, I’d been in the habit of buying the next house before selling my finished one. But the Great Recession and economics, more than family, made me downshift into a more sensible strategy, and at the moment of getting the TV director’s email, I was project-less for the first time in over a decade. So, I had no renovation underway that I could use as a backdrop for our videos, which was the biggest reason we’d filmed in the backyard by the kid’s treehouse.

*

On days that Diann wasn’t working, I’d been actively on the hunt for the next project. I’d looked at scores of properties—online, in person, drive-bys, and a few walkthroughs with our realtor that had been unfruitful.

However, after I sent in the video, it was as if the heavens opened, and a huge ray of sunshine was beaming down on an old house that had caught my attention online many times. For months it had been one of those listings marked as a pending sale, but just in time, it was back in play. And even better, relisted at a reduced price.

I made an appointment to go see the inside and walked the property with our realtor. From the outside, the most distinctive feature of the reddish brown one-story was an eight-sided turret room built off the corner and next to the front porch. Inside it was a lot like my other pig’s ears: hodge-podgy colors and trim throughout a floorplan clearly added onto many times by previous owners. Bathrooms and rooms used for bedrooms dotted the sixteen hundred square feet, with the kitchen in the back and much of the space empty and unused.

As we emerged from our interior review of the octagon shaped room—surprisingly a bathroom with four windows looking out over a busy neighborhood corner—the realtor said, “I’m just not sure what you’re gonna be able to do with this place.”

But I was already seeing the what’s and how’s and whys, picturing in my mind the way it could be opened up, bringing the forgotten front of the house back to life. More importantly though, it seemed like a good fit for me, my experience, skills, and my comfort level with something my gut said looked worse than it was. Plus, it had two garages—attached and detached—on a half-acre property that oozed with potential.

And topping it off, it was in a great school district. So, if Diann liked it when I was finished, we could make it our home.

It took a few days, but we eventually agreed on a price and closing date, and these preparations consumed my thoughts, pushing out those regarding the email up to New York and whether or not anyone in the Big Apple had been able to open and watch our videos.             

(Response to TV Show Viewers: Post 21 - March 13, 2026)

Heavenly Carpenter in the Mix - Response to TV Show Viewers: Post 20

(Response to TV Show Viewers: Post 19 - March 6, 2026) 

Faith is prevailing, a source of power that can skootch someone outside of their comfort zone with certainty in their head and heart that they are under the watchful eyes and loving hands of heaven. Some may say that my relocating to the unknown before buying houses that others didn’t want, properties sitting vacant for years and sometimes decades, were multiple leaps of faith.

I think those are spot on takes.

Although I spent years working, studying, and planning for my first house project, faithfulness was a factor leading me to the closing table to sign the ownership documents and then with me until I sold that first home. And declarations from bystanders that my plans were “impossible,” became opportunities to lean into my spiritual convictions.

Chapter 17 from the bible’s book of Matthew was in my head throughout this and the pig’s ear renovations that came after. “If you have faith the size of a mustard seed…nothing will be impossible.” And Philippians 4:13 that teaches, “I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me.” Or “If God is for us, who can be against us?” Romans 8:31. These, more than other scriptures, ping ponged in my head regularly.

Fast forwarding to 2013 and the decision of how I should respond to the home improvement networks’ Director of Original Programming and Development, that faith was just as much in play. Those beliefs and values had gotten me to that point of my life and career, and they were woven into my willingness to submit a video to HGTV/DIY without specifics. And Diann was in stride, making these decisions and steps forward frictionless. As consideration was underway for more unknowns and undefined, there was deep rooted confidence that I was still in good hands moving ahead.    

So, for those who feel as if sending in a video with our children up into the cyber clouds was irresponsible, you may feel better by taking it up with the carpenter of heaven. 

(Response to TV Show Viewers: Post 21 - March 11, 2026)

Video for the HGTV Guy - Response to TV Show Viewers: Post 19

(Response to TV Show Viewers: Post 18 - March 4)

It was a nice fall afternoon when the four of us made our videos. First would be Diann and the kids and then another of just me. Each recording would be around two or three minutes. Our daughter was five, in the first grade, and my stepson was thirteen and in middle school. The three were on a swing in the back yard and I was operating the camcorder originally purchased to document the renovating of my “Hurricane House.”

Unexpected was how me pressing the red button would flip a switch with the siblings. They went wild, were far from shy as they talked over one another, getting up to be the one in front of the camera, and wrestling out of their mom’s grasp. Diann and I were also an issue, we were laughing too much and had to start from the top.

We explained to the kids how they needed to sit and take turns speaking before we tried it again. They did better but were still rowdy. Next, during my turn, the pair began playing in the background, throwing stuff out of the tree house. But I powered through, answered questions from the programming director’s email, and felt as if I’d covered bases as planned.

I watched the recordings a few times. I had done okay and answered questions while including my main points. However, the three of them did much better. My stepson has his own form of communicating and I found how Diann and our daughter translated for him endearing. I was used to seeing this in person, but on camera provided a different level of appreciation. It was a sweet, proud moment for me.  

However, the recordings didn’t make the same impression for Diann and after dinner, baths, and putting kids into their beds, she said something like, “I’m sorry that didn’t go better. We can try again tomorrow.”

“That’s alright.” Then I added, “I’m gonna send them in.”

She asked, “Are you sure? We can redo ours.”

“No. It’s fine,” I said. “They were funny. We don’t need to do it again.”

Neither Diann nor I owned smartphones yet, and I had to figure out how to get the videos into some sort of sharable format. But I managed it and watched the videos once more before I attached them to the email going back to the producer. Diann looked pretty. The kiddos were cute and comical. And in the back of my mind, I had this thought that we had a real solid chance of getting a little further down whatever road was unfolding.

But then I wondered if the person on the other end would even be able to open what I’d sent.    

(Response to TV Show Viewers: Post 21 - March 9, 2026) 

A Better View Behind the TV Curtain - Response to TV Show Viewers: Post 18

(Response to TV Show Viewers: Post 17 - March 2, 2026)

From the start, some who’ve seen me on American Rehab Charleston or Restoring Charleston have been curious to know if I’d steadily lobbied the television networks, or rather was that the way for them to get on television themselves? Am I an example of persistence and tenacity? Or did I know someone, did I have a friend or relative in network TV or Hollywood or something, someone I could refer them to so they could pitch their own ideas? I’ve always been sorry to have to say that the answer to the first two questions is ‘no’ and proud, yet less glad, to say that it’s the same for the third one.  

Because rehab addict Nicole Curtis commented on my blog, I started writing more prolifically about HGTV/DIY and their shows, saying wonderfully supportive and enthusiastic things about these home renovation programs. After a year and a half of this periodic gushing, I received an email from a producer that tied back to that website. So, my conclusion from the start of this TV chapter of my career has been that Blood, Sweat, and Pig’s Ears was the foundation for this opportunity.

I realize some think my connection of these dots—Ms. Curtis to my blog to a NYC TV producer and then to me—is silly. And silliness may just be the case. However, I’ve had no other answer. The shows are still on and people hold curiosity. So, for those after added clarity or clues so they can make their own splash, I’ve written this series of posts sorting through this history.

Back to my retelling. I’d been delayed in actually finding the email from the HGTV/DIY producer by about one week. I wanted to respond quickly, think, and then react fittingly. I thanked the producer for reaching out with an assurance that I would circle back shortly.

After the second response I would be ready to get back to life; family, kids, and finding my next project house. But I was truly excited to make the video and see if it might lead to anything. And this opened up my next list of questions.

I really wanted to be involved with the home improvement networks in some way. This had become a tangible goal. Just to be in the mix in any capacity would be an honor. Remote consulting or perhaps involvement on a Charleston project in the works sounded amazing. My career was a diverse collection of many different types of projects, and historic restoration or TV beach remodel was something I’d be up for. Anything that would add experience and skills to my resume tool bag appealed to me.   

Around this time, many networks were taking their own stabs at game show type formatting that discovered new talent by featuring and eliminating contestants after skill showcasing challenges. I had learned that The Food Network did this regularly and friends had told me how the home improvement networks had also aired shows like this. These folks had suggested in the past how they thought I should consider submitting a video for these contest type programs. And although these recommendations were flattering, I hadn’t taken any steps for that. After seeing those shows, I just didn’t think I’d have a real shot.

So as much as I was prepared for a chance to work behind the scenes—scheduling, coordinating, and consulting with designers, architects, tradespeople and vendors—I was also willing to see what it could feel like to be in front of cameras if that’s what might be in store.

As I thought out what I wanted to say in the video going up to Manhattan, I made sure to be ready to mention how I’d love to be a part of anything they were doing. That was my original mission and how I genuinely felt. Now that a connection had been established, I just wanted a better view at what was behind the curtain.

(Response to TV Show Viewers: Post 19 - March 6, 2026)

Blogging in Lieu of Other Tactics - Response to TV Show Viewers: Post 17

(Response to TV Show Viewers: Post 16 - February 27, 2026)

One way to help those aspiring for exposure of their own while also just telling the story some are interested in, is to own-up to many of my mistakes. And this is the tricky part, because it can come across as if I’m making excuses, and I’d rather not do that since I don’t see much real benefit to anyone in that. Me included.

Some can say that one big misstep was in not taking some initiative before the fall of 2013, me reaching out to the networks with a suggestion that we collaborate. If I thought I had their attention, why not make an effort to connect in some way? I agree this is a great idea, but I didn’t know who or where to write, speculating that my attempts would end up in a junk folder or the trash. Being more positive is a healthy mindset. But I was thinking along the lines of Clint Eastwood’s character in the film Heartbreak Ridge: “A man’s got to know his limitations.” Although I was willing to go for it, I just didn’t know how to go about doing that other than blogging.

Why not make videos for YouTube? That would have been a good way to grab the attention of people working in television.  

That’s a smart idea. I like that suggestion. I think a person needs a certain level of sureness in themselves and their abilities to do that. For me, writing and editing my stories and advice was a big leap that’s certainly become easier. Sure, I had the videos from renovating my Hurricane House, but I understood I needed help editing for my footage, etcetera and I just didn’t know where to find it to put something together that would be worthy.

Writing was different. I could do all that myself, let my wife proofread for errors, and then hit publish.     

Still, I will concede that putting videos out there, finding a way to get that done, may have been better and a more effective way of getting or maintaining the attention of the networks. But to be clear, I wasn’t trying to get on TV. I had my initial goals of connecting with a homeowner or seller, or people in the book publishing world. And then after Nicole Curtis commented on my blog, I thought HGTV and DIY were keeping eyes on me, so I was writing for my chance to work with them. Being on television was not my objective. I didn’t think it would fit with my family life nor that I had what it took.

My skin is thicker these days, making it easier to accept or even point out my own mistakes. So, if you think I could have taken a different tactic toward connecting with the home improvement networks, in my opinion, you’re not wrong.  

(Response to TV Show Viewers: Post 18 - March 4, 2026)

Prank, Scam, or Goofy Plan That Hit? - Response to TV Show Viewers: Post 16

(Response to TV Show Viewers: Post 15 - February 25, 2026)

More than really being necessary, having a dedicated email address for Blood, Sweat, and Pig’s Ears simply made me feel good. It also established a buffer early on, as if this blog was more removed from me. I didn’t mention my family, and I was several years deep before I even shared my first name. The blog email allowed me to remain somewhat anonymous while still being accessible. Plus, it made this site more of a creation from scratch that stood on its own legs.

When I first came up with my idea about connecting with people working for the home improvement networks, I kept closer tabs on this secondary address. Although I checked my main account daily, the one for this blog was one of those things that got away from me a bit when I realized it wasn’t being used very much. But then a year and a half into my delusions of having the attention of TV people, a noteworthy blog reader emerged from cyber space.

Was this some sort of joke? Were hidden cameras mounted in the living room, capturing my excitement before someone would suddenly let me in on this well pointed prank?

Besides being next door neighbors on our cable menu, I’d noticed how Nicole Curtis’ Rehab Addict aired regularly on HGTV and the DIY network. And because of this, getting an email from someone claiming to be a Director of Original Programming and Development representing each channel, tracked.

My hunch had been right. They did know about me.

This reach out was dated September 26, 2013, but I didn’t open it until the second day of October. After preliminaries, the TV scout flattered me by mentioning my blog, my enthusiasm for renovating, and an appreciation for my approach and attitude toward my pig’s ears. Then I was invited to submit an introductory video about myself, something that included my family. Conversational in tone, this letter was full of useful information I needed to make my decision about if and how to respond.

More than once, I’d received the well-known congratulatory letter from an international esquire representing some wealthy distant relative who’d died with millions. Midway through the Sept. 26^th note, my mind went to these internet fishing schemes. But then I looked at the sender’s email. Rather than one of those alphabet soup type addresses that looked like a pet walked on the keyboard, it was professional, matching the person’s first initial and last name @HGTV.com.  

I re-read this message several times and then wrote a thank you note back that amounted to, “I’ll put something together and send it to you soon.” Not a huge promise. Only an acknowledgement that I’d seen and read the unsolicited email.

I gave it several looks throughout the day as I thought and thought. I did some on-line researching, and that sleuthing, coupled with the network email address, helped get me to the point of concluding that it was a legitimate introduction and invitation. Coming at it from many different angles, I couldn’t see a reasonable downside to sending in a video.

Eventually, after I talked it out with my wife Diann, she got right to the big question on her mind: “Did this guy ask for any money?”

I shook my head to answer and then we began laying out a plan to submit something.

(Response to TV Show Viewers: Post 17 - March 2, 2026)

Metal Tank, Bat Waste, and Teenagers - Response to TV Show Viewers: Post 15

(Response to TV Show Viewers: Post 14 - February 23, 2026)

Parenthood unleashes a cascade of advice on how to get through the early months of sleeplessness, then suggestions about raising a toddler, and on from there. For me it was a lot at first, too much guidance to swallow. But then someone made it clearer for me by saying something like, “Take it in and then just use what you can.” Renovating a rundown property is similar, with a flood of recommendations until bystanders feel convinced a rehabber knows what they’re doing.

So, this collection of responses to viewers is meant to answer questions but also help people who may want to document their own rehab on film or share information that can be passed along to someone trying to be on TV themselves. Far from feeling as if I have all the answers, I can write about what I experienced for people to use however they think might fit for them.

Before getting married and renovating the homes featured in American Rehab Charleston and Restoring Charleston, I’d been part of a handful of mission teams. I’ve spent a lot of time working alone on my project houses, so traveling, serving, and living with others was uplifting each time I had these opportunities. In addition, unlike when I renovated solo, I had other people to think things over with and then help carry out plans. I always enjoy the challenge of figuring out how to manage with whatever tools and materials are available, and the mission field is filled with these sorts of instances.

One afternoon in Papua New Guinea, I was part of a group of Americans and local men trying to install a galvanized tank. It had become another lesson in how things could be done without modern equipment as pairs took turns with hand shovels to create the round hole the size of a small car. As the last two diggers spread a thin layer of gravel over the flat bottom, this assembly of a dozen or so put our heads together trying to figure out how we could place the metal cylinder without damaging it. Brainstorming led to my suggesting we slide the unit on planks straddling the hole, then lifting it in unison before we slowly lowered it to its spot. It worked and I was pleased to have teammates able and willing to give my idea a try. And it was safer, easier, and more satisfying than going it alone.

Another time, in the mountains of Central America, I was helping an electrical crew wire up a school building for lights. I didn’t have much to offer until we ran into a small roadblock, an obstruction preventing our crew from running power to the new switch box.

Although many things are foreign abroad, there are some common building fundamentals, and using those, combined with what I’d picked up in that part of the world, I helped these tradesmen identify the non-electrical problem before putting forth a proposed workaround. The cavity was filled with bat guano, and one solution was to cut a hole and clean out the space, allowing them to carry on. They liked the idea and it worked. After they finished, I built and installed an access door over the new hole. It was easy and economical, and practical too since it could be removed if anyone needed to work on the system in the future.

There were many other things that made working in these volunteer roles fulfilling, but these times where I felt I’d been there for a reason, still stand out for me.

Being the one with a workable solution feels pretty great when it happens. And thankfulness afterwards is also very nice. As much as I wanted my blog to spark my next opportunity, work I could do while still being close by for my family, I was hoping for something that was also gratifying. Respecting uncrossable lines and having limited access to proper resources, I now realize that I was hoping for a lot.

I’m far from being a super confident person. I do feel at ease in my element of jacked up houses though, as if I’m rungs above capable. Being even more candid about my aspirations for a chance to help the unknown, unseen TV folks, I was being unreasonably delusional. 

For example, after Rehab Addict Nicole Curtis commented on my post, I allowed myself to believe that someone from HGTV or DIY was following this blog. So, I started to write with their eyes in mind. I would have been stoked to be able to be a part of something one of these networks was doing. I could review photos or video and perhaps offer some unorthodox or unrecognized solution to issues on renovations to be featured on one of their shows.   

There had been times when I’d headed up teams of youth working on old houses, projects where adults like me had been strongly encouraged to allow the teens complete work we might be able to knock out quicker or easier. I had been surprised to enjoy walking them through steps, thrilled at how they stood taller after achievements they’d woken up thinking were beyond their capabilities. In the world of renovating, I held certainty I could do that remotely for the home improvement networks without having to be on site far and away from Diann and the kids.

If television producers were tuning into my blogging, I was going to do what I could to make it clear how uniquely qualified I was to help them.

(Response to TV Show Viewers: Post 16 - February, 27, 2026)

My Imagined Alliance with Rehab Addict’s Nicole Curtis - Response to TV Show Viewers: Post 14

(Response to TV Show Viewers: Post 13 - February 20, 2026) 

I had not spoken with Nicole Curtis, the star of the hit TV show on HGTV and DIY called Rehab Addict. Nor had she talked to me. And yet, through my blog and her comment in April 2012, we had sort of communicated. I suppose, without intending to, I’d said, “I get what you do” and she’d answered with a simple, “Thank you.” And maybe it was as basic as appreciation going two ways, up to Minnesota and then back to me in South Carolina by way of the internet.

It could be seen as more. I was promoting her and her show. But I was also applying what I believed as the key to being a good teacher, by directing followers or readers of my blog where they should look to learn, as if I was saying in my own way, “If y’all want to understand what I do and how I do it, find Rehab Addict on television and watch Nicole Curtis. After a few episodes, you’ll see and hear how you can save time and money by making use of what’s already there rather than tossing good stuff and replacing it with pricey new things. You can see how she makes something unwanted beautiful again, and at the end valuable. You’ll get a better idea of why renovating an unwanted house is so gratifying.”     

My blog was started for my own personal/professional reasons and ambitions, but it was also to inspire and educate others on how to renovate a house with potential, maybe even a property that real estate and construction experts were convinced was unsavable.

With most of my projects, I’d done what people with experience and wisdom and authority genuinely believed was undoable. And through my blog, I wanted others to realize that they could do the same, that they could buy a house that looked a lot worse than it actually was and step by step, bring it back to life. My message wasn’t only about resurrecting houses left for dead. But I felt if I could show how I save a property that was condemned, officially labeled Uninhabitable, then others could take what I had learned and was able to share and use it to help them revive the worst house on the block, or in some neighborhood near them. They could put their blood and sweat into something, make it their own silk purse, a special place to call home. Or maybe they could use what they learned to have a cool rehabbing career of their own.        

Right or wrong, I thought that in her show Rehab Addict, Nicole Curtis was doing that same thing.

(Response to TV Show Viewers: Post 15 - Coming Soon)

From the Top: Responses to TV Show Viewers up to Post 13

Responses to TV Show Viewers

As I think back and write, I now understand a bit better how to answer questions family, friends, viewers, and strangers have presented over the last thirteen years. To the right people, stirring together my errors with the choices that seemed to work out can serve useful. 

Me being on TV doesn't add up for many. And I get that since I'm also looking back and scratching my own head. Vagueness that was my attempt at politeness created an unnecessary void too easily filled by the overly creative. Like many things, time and patience are the essentials making me more able to get down to some of the nitty and the gritty. 

Working through this Response series of essays is bringing back good memories, and things I haven't thought much about for a while. An assignment perhaps long overdue, I am enjoying it more than expected. For those of you interested in starting from the top, I've dropped this list of links leading up to yesterday.

:)    

Salutes of Appreciation for Notes and Messages - 1/20/26

Response to TV Show Viewers: Post 1 - 1/23/26

The Lifestyle of Rehabbing: Post 2 - 1/26/26

Drawing Inspiration from Survivorman: Post 3 - 1/28/26

My Contractor/Family Man Standoff: Post 4 - 1/30/26

Teaching and Coaching and Coping: Post 5 - 2/2/26

Blog with a Dog Named Cerberus: Post 6 - 2/4/26

Radar Blipping Due to Flipping: Post 7 - 2/6/26

Discovering Rehab Addict Starring Nicole Curtis: Post 8 - 2/9/26

Nicole Curtis on Rehab Addict Grabs My Wife's Attention: Post 9 - 2/11/26 

Oh, Fart Knockers! Nicole Curtis Has Stepped in It Now: Post 9a - 2/13/26

My Wife's Assertion About Nicole Curtis: Post 10 - 2/14/26

Nicole Curtis Boosts My Spousal Awareness: Post 11 - 2/16/26

Self-Appointed Mission: Connect With TV People: Post 12 - 2/18/26

Half-Baked Move Toward Television: Response Post 13 - 2/20/26

My girl and I
Circa 2009 

Trent 

bloodsweatandpigsears@hotmail.com

Half-Baked Move Toward Television - Response to TV Show Viewers: Post 13

(Response to TV Show Viewers: Post 12)

In the spring of 2012, some things were clear. My wife had let me know, either sincerely or tongue-in-cheek, that the star of HGTV/DIY’s Rehab Addict had been tuned into this blog. Diann made her opinion clear several times when we had the show on at home. On the inside I was thinking, “That would be neat.” While on the outside I was saying something that amounted to, “Thanks for your cool proclamation, girl, but I doubt this person on TV has time to read my blog.”

But then, the plot thickened when Nicole Curtis commented on a post I’d written saying, “Thanks for “getting” what I do :).” If this was the actual home improvement dynamo, then she was showing me in a magnificent way how right Diann actually was.

Some could speculate that I was likely just ignorant to what really happened, that my wife reached out to Nicole, asking that she comment on Blood, Sweat, and Pig’s Ears. People may feel inclined to believe that because of my spouse, the rehabber logged on and took time to do a favor for some stranger and that this colluding was all done a thoughtful gesture or, so I’d be aware of my wife’s brilliance. Although something like this could have happened, I pretty sure that’s not the case. And if she did pull off this clandestine plan, Diann is still keeping the secret of all this scheming to herself.

Also, it might have just been someone claiming to be the TV star. I also got how this could be a possibility. However, the mentioned commenter did include www.nicolecurtisdesigns.com with the six- word response, so that lent some legitimacy to the prospect that the rehab addict was the one who’d read and commented on my post.

I dug Rehab Addict, as much or more than This Old House, and related with what she did and how she did it. I wrote a few paragraphs about my feelings several times in multiple posts that year and in 2013. But the bottom line still is that Diann had been right, while I was surprisedly pleased about being wrong. And I thought it was fun having the TV star’s comment at the foot of my article.

As far as I could consider, I had no inroads to the television universe, leaving me scratching my head. I didn't know folks in the TV world: family, close friend, or old pal from college. And my orbit was without anyone who could have suggested that Ms. Curtis check out or type a comment on my website.

But eventually, when I was through wondering, I took some passive action, writing additional posts about the network's programs. Besides more about Nicole Curtis and Rehab Addict, I wrote about other shows, like Renovation Realities and Renovation Rescue, series I liked that seemed to be coming from the same place as me and Blood, Sweat, and Pig's Ears: trying to educate with advice and tips while inspiring people to renovate. I was wholeheartedly in sync with that mission because home renovating is fun, and done right, can be profitable.

Even if it was a delusion, I liked imagining TV producers using my blog as a resource. But suddenly, I had a new goal: I wanted to be a part of the team, a legitimate asset. I wanted them to establish more formal contact so they could call or email whenever they had a question. Just like with the online Q&A forums, I was primed and ready to provide solutions if or when they ran into on-site gridlock.

(Response to TV Show Viewers: Post 14 - Coming Soon)