Post-Wrap of the Pilot Episode - Response to TV Show Viewers: Post 46

Response to TV Show Viewers: Post 1 - January 23, 2026

Response to TV Show Viewers: Post 45 - May 4, 2026

In the spring of 2014, I was making an effort to put on a faithful face, to be an example of hope and optimism. But on the inside, being sensible, practical even, I had to own up to the truth that I hadn’t knocked this opportunity over the fence.

And it was getting even further away from me.

I’m not being overly rough on myself now as much as I am sharing details to satisfy those still curious. To more than a few, I come off as supremely certain within the episodes, and some feel they need to set me straight. Perhaps, in sharing this response series, I’ll make it a little clearer that I realize I don’t have all the answers.  

Even now, over ten years down the road, there’s a whole lot I don’t know about what happened after the producers left South Carolina. However, in May of that first year in TV, I had post-filming involvement in the form of voiceover work and am able to write some about that.

Within the two weeks of the filming and interviewing to create the pilot that would eventually kickoff all of the American Rehab series, I learned that producers had much more quantity than they’d anticipated. The introductory half hour episode we’d all been working on would be paired down to twenty-one minutes. However, the math of it all showed that they’d actually accumulated enough footage to produce the six episodes after only ten days!

An expectant producer had let me know that they were ready to “fast track” the first segment, requiring executive producers and editors to comb through what they had to make a compelling initial seven minutes. That creation would take a week or so, they’d get anticipated approval, then circle back so we could finish the house and filming before August.

However, by mid-April, I was again being reminded of how dissatisfied producers had been with me, how despite their professionalism, I’d witnessed expressions and posture that served as feedback. I hadn’t been delivering as hoped. Weeks after their exodus, it became clear that the quantity wasn’t equating to quality. And as a result of my ineffectiveness, they needed me to begin logging time in a local recording studio to provide usable dialogue to bridge gaps and sew up holes.        

These sound booth sessions brought back comparable satisfaction felt while filming the first day of the test reel on November 7 of 2013. I had producers in other parts of the country coming through my headphones, listening to me repeat many of the things I’d said back in March, but this time I was alone, talking into a microphone in a soundproof room with audio technicians behind the glass partition. I was living out a scene I’d watched in movies and television, with the highlight of this experience being the session when my star-eyed daughter came along to watch and listen.

This voiceover work spilled into May, telling me without saying so that they would not be returning before our kid’s schools let out for the summer. These studio sessions then carried over into June, solidifying even more substantially some of my natural, privately held evaluating over my performance on camera at the end of March.

Through the headset, producers directed and encouraged me. Although unable to read expressions, I could hear their tones of voices. They seemed taken aback— unexpectedly surprised in a good way—as if I was coming through beyond what they’d anticipated or been prepared for. This was the opposite of how I’d felt filming for the two weeks, an ease inducing, necessary moment. And this collection of hours added up to an uplifting end to my part in creating the pilot episode.

Although I was encouraged that they'd be able to cobble together enough, as the weeks of summer formed months, I began to once again think that our chances of getting onto HGTV were back to slim. 

Response to TV Show Viewers: Post 47 - Coming Soon

Wrapping Up the Detached Garage - Response to TV Show Viewers: Post 45

Response to TV Show Viewers: Post 1 - January 23, 2026

Response to TV Show Viewers: Post 44 - May 1, 2026

In home rehabbing, the value of extra space to work out of and store materials in is immeasurable. A garage, basement, and detached outbuilding like a barn or shed make a reno easier, which over the course of the project, whether it’s weeks, months, or longer, saves time, which likely also benefits the budget. And these are major biggies.

I’d overlooked this value early in my career, until I had a rehab with nowhere to overflow into.  This meant moving things around my available space on the inside a lot, more than would have been necessary if I’d had space that didn’t need to be reworked and rebuilt.

Eventually, this asset on prospective properties was just one of others that I learned to factor in as I combed through listings and cruised for next projects. And by 2013, it was something I no longer had to be hyper-aware of.

The Summerville property had two garages: a detached one-car in back under the live oak that was older than the house, and the other next to the kitchen that was enclosed as part of filming the pilot. Although it was supposed to have been completed, time ran out and it was ready for me to finish. It wasn’t a lot of work, but enough to keep me busy throughout the month of April 2014 as I waited.

The completed effort had included a sweet new garage door replacing an old one that dramatically fell from its tracks while pilot cameras had been rolling. Along with this fancy unit, the two-sides of this building facing the back of the house had been painted yellow. But that was it. The rest was ready, beckoning me to freshen it up.

Along with addressing rotten wood and buttoning up the paint job, this shed needed soffit, fascia, and new trim. But there was potential to make a larger, more impactful splash. So, while I was completing this part of the property’s makeover, I decided to move the man door from the back corner to a new spot that lined up more ideally with a rogue section of concrete jutting out from the pad under the grand tree. Not only was I able to capitalize on a mysterious, inherited quirk, it would also allow me to make better use of the space inside. In addition to moving this door, I installed another entrance on the back side and popped in some windows. Then to top this enjoyable make-work off, I installed what would be a brick border up to the relocated door and then mixed up a little over a yard of concrete to complete the walkway.     

In the wake of the time spent waiting, and the two weeks of filming the pilot, I appreciated the authenticity of completing the detached garage, on my own, without anyone needing my narration and commentary or to be feeding me dialogue that may be used to tie scenes together in post-production. More than when the people from LA and Minnesota had been working with me, I felt comfortable, assured, and like my old self. And that time, in a great town, under the canopy of the beautiful tree on my property with so much potential, was a good place to be.  

Response to TV Show Viewers: Post 46 - Coming Soon

Pride in the Dumpster - Response to TV Show Viewers: Post 44

Response to TV Show Viewers: Post 1 - January 23, 2026

Response to TV Show Viewers: Post 45 - April 29, 2026

Answering the biggest questions generates more curiosity. Here’s a logical follow-up to me sharing how I failed to adequately respond to learning that the carport, side porch, and reroof had been surreptitiously nixed.

I could, and maybe should have responded with, “Your bosses said that you would be doing Plan C, but you’re doing Plan D instead, sidestepping the big three things I really need after waiting three months? No thanks. I’m sorry to have to tell you that we’re not going to be making a pilot after all.”

But then what?

That had been a gamble I was unwilling to take. Even though they’d not done what they’d said up to that point, I still trusted the dual networks and their Minneapolis production company. I really wanted to believe in them. I needed for those who were capable to get me on HGTV, even if it was one time, one episode.

Knowing now, what I didn’t know then, I had leverage I could have used that would have helped everyone involved. As much as I didn’t like or appreciate it, downgrading to the pilot episode first would have actually been the best thing if we’d gone with Plan C. I thought we’d made a minor breakthrough when I laid out the value of a potential win-win scenario. As I explained it, as I sincerely felt about it, gutting the interior, building the side porch and carport, and replacing the leaky roof would have been ideal for everyone. Now I know it for sure.  

Although I thought we’d ended this conversation in logical compromise territory, it may have changed when the other side had time to consider what we’d settled on. I realize that for some people, win-win feels uncomfortable, because they genuinely believe that in order to come out ahead, the other party must decidedly not get all that they’re after. But I know from experience how that doesn’t work in the long run.

I thought it was clear how Plan C would be the best for all, but once again, I didn’t tie them down because I had an inflated regard. But more importantly, I feared that doing that would scare them into not showing up at all.

Instead, I rolled the dice with my fingers crossed, and that was on me. I suppose deep down I felt that I deserved to live with Plan D, the exterior spruce up in lieu of what had been discussed and orally landed on over the phone since I had been more trusting than was prudent.

This is on me. I’d messed up again. And the reason we started on the outside, as much as I hated it then and cringe about it even today, and as detrimental as it was to my chance to renovate my houses on television more substantially, circles back and points to me. And as I’ve already said, I’m sorry to the people I let down and all those who had high hopes and big plans for me.  

*

Besides me taking my lumps for rolling the dice on the lead producer, something slightly magnanimous is also worth understanding.

The crew on site was not to blame. They were just doing what they’d been directed to do by the people they answered to.  They’d told their friends and families how they would be working in Charleston, South Carolina for two weeks. They’d passed on other jobs in order to come work with me, to help me have a chance at the series pickup that would finish the rest of the house.

If I sent them home when I realized what was happening, they’d likely feel as if I was to blame. Right or wrong, this was where my mind went since I lacked the background to fully understand the consequences and implications if I took a hard line. In that way, I was in too far. I didn’t know what to do other than to try to keep my head above water and get a little further along with this opportunity.

At this point, regardless of how screwy and unappetizing this process had become, I had to do whatever I could to squeeze out a time slot featuring me on HGTV.

Response to TV Show Viewers: Post 43 - Coming Soon

Trent on a Fast Track - Response to TV Show Viewers: Post 43

Response to TV Show Viewers: Post 1 - January 23, 2026

Response to TV Show Viewers: Post 42 - April 29, 2026

To be clear and transparent, the filming for the pilot was a cool experience when the project implications were overlooked. I was the focal point of attention and full-on adoration for two straight weeks. Production assistants offered me water and fetched me coffee. Producers fed me lunch every day and oversaw the two weeks of pilot filming that ran like clockwork. And the network picked up the lion’s share of the costs for the initial improvements made to the house.

Getting to that point of being in the spotlight as I was, felt like its own special accomplishment. I wasn’t exactly sure what it meant big picture or long term, but it seemed noteworthy after almost fizzling multiple times during the long stretch of waiting.

However, I was not great, at all. I thought I’d be better but wasn’t confident when speaking and my enthusiasm was inauthentic. My energy level was more from caffeine than organic excitement over what we were doing. I was sincerely disappointed, more in the talent than anyone else. I talked over people, tripped on my words, and often used the same description too many times. I had not shined as hoped. I’d let myself down and understood that the producers felt the same. I saw them wince, picked up on their hard-to-hide indifference. They were steadfastly professional, but these were not actors. They couldn’t pretend that I was brilliant when I muddled day-to-day in full view.    

Although getting the initial green light had happened quickly, and may have seemed easy to others looking in, perhaps even as I’ve written about it here in this Response series, it had been rough and bumpy and taken a long time, with the last leg, December through March, being supremely dicey. But I’d come through without losing my mind off camera and without melting down, venting frustrations while being filmed with every word recorded. It hadn’t been an Ironman triathlon or completion of a marathon, yet at the end, I was drained. I’d endured and it was a milestone to get to that point and then through this experience working with the producers on site and remotely throughout the country.

As I’ve said before, they treated me nicely. But I could tell I wasn’t saying what they wanted me to say, how they wanted it said, even after they tried to tell me. They were positive when they could be, like letting me know I had a knack for knowing where the camera was, opening up and adjusting as needed. And they seemed to appreciate my personality and sense of humor.

However, there were producers who seemed super-duper pleased, very impressed, making me feel genuinely optimistic of chances at being picked up for the series. The high point of this enthusiasm was when a producer pulled me aside and said, “You’re doing great! We have enough for the first segment. We’re gonna fast track it, get approval for the pick-up, and then we’ll be right back.” That was news that had me standing a little straighter. And he added, “It won't be April. But what we have is looking really good and we’ll be back by May for sure.”

Of course, they didn't want me to work on the house until they returned, and I had some privately held mixed feelings about this. But if they were coming back, I could find ways to be productive for four or five weeks that would surely buzz by quickly.

Response to TV Show Viewers: Post 44 - Coming Soon

Hanging Tight onto the Juggernaut Notion - Response to TV Show Viewers: Post 42

Response to TV Show Viewers: Post 1 - January 23, 2026

Response to TV Show Viewers: Post 41 - April 23, 2026

To use the word reluctant, rather than openly admitting my fears, would soften things up to make the mishandling of my opportunity to be on TV different than I should. Without a doubt, I was in a precarious position because I’d moved ahead with the networks without having clear, spelled out plans, or at the least, some form of vague parameters on what we were moving ahead with together spelled out in a documented form.

That was the opposite of wise. It would be like driving to the west coast without a map or navigational system for guidance, just being okay asking people which way to go enroute. Even the uber faithful would set off with a reasonable strategy.

My handling, or lack of, might be an example of the warning about not meeting your heroes. I revered HGTV and that created a weak spot in my ability to evaluate circumstances. That’s an excuse I’m willing to own.  

Big picture, looking ahead down the long road, and even now in hindsight, sticking with our thought out and talked over planning would have been better for all involved—my family and I, contractors and tradespeople, the production company and its employees, and the dual networks. Victories around the table. Ignorantly, I just thought we’d gravitate back to where we needed to be. But in the end, it falls on me to admit that I knew to put things down on paper, at the least so that the network and the production company could have a written record of what each of them were saying to me.

In benefit of the doubt concluding, producers had a lot going on, many more rehabbing shows than ours in South Carolina. Which only goes back to the responsibility being on me, even if I realized it too late. From the point of in getting turned upside down, I was in salvage mode: doing whatever I could to still get on the home improvement juggernaut to save face.  

*

In the final days of pilot filming, a Charleston news crew was dispatched to come visit. They wanted to grab a few minutes of footage of the activity, maybe interviewing me and members of the production team or contractors.

On one hand, this development sounded really good to me. I wanted as many of our friends and neighbors as possible to have some confirmation that I hadn’t been blowing things out of proportion for three months, that I actually was working towards an opportunity with HGTV/DIY. Local news coming to see me and us would legitimize what we’d been telling people, not because we were tooting our horns, but because we had to explain as part of getting ready. Although not everyone we’d told would have seen me on the news, word would have spread and that would have been long overdue enough.

Yet, being candid for those reading as well as myself, this possibility made me uneasy. What I said and how I said everything on camera for this pilot episode would be edited by the network producers. But if I was interviewed by one of the local stations, they’d have been able to craft it however them deemed appropriate and necessary. And that made me uncomfortable, and probably the showrunner as well because the network needed to control the tone of the episode and they didn’t know just what they had on film yet.

We were starting on the outside and this really had me off balance from day one—I’d never really gotten over the start-at-the-end plan-of-attack. I’d been trying to explain someone else’s, or some committee’s choice, but it had been a two-week struggle.

Sequencing of a rehab is critical to its schedule and budgeting. Some wiggle room is alright, but wackiness like starting on the outside costs a lot of time and money. I’d been solidly stoked about the project before everything was flipped. But my enthusiasm and confidence were shaky, rocked off my point-of-view foundation.

Typically, interior demolition is an exciting phase, my first chance to really see how the house is built or has been added onto. Potential to utilize natural light becomes clearer. I begin to understand the history of the home better by seeing what’s beneath plaster and sheetrock.

And building the carport for the pilot would have been such a fresh gust of life onto the half acre site. This addition was over five hundred square feet of area to work under. The completed, connected side porch would have created a covered thoroughfare into the front part of the house that was being reestablished as the heart of the home just inside from the one-of-a-kind front porch. And having the new roof on, a leak free interior was also something that would have thrilled me, organic energy I needed on camera.

I could have easily talked to local news folks about this approach, but what we were doing really made me jittery, frail without concentrated effort, and lacking the needed conviction that was lost within the surprising change of plans.

So even though I’d been shooting straight about this chance to rehab my next house for producers, and local news would have made it all known right then, I was okay that they been told to stand down. The production company reps called the station, discouraging reporters from making the trip. It was made adamantly clear that local newspeople would not be given access to the project, me, or anyone else working on behalf of the networks. They didn’t really need to explain why. I realized it was for the best.

It was one of many missed opportunities and another example of my own, private over-optimism.

*

The pilot filming wrapped on schedule, a week before the Flowertown Festival kicked off, when the town of Summerville would be flooded just a few blocks away with thousands of visitors. Even though producers had heard about this event, as well as the Cooper River Bridge Run on Saturday of that same weekend, the film team was back to their homes in Minnesota and Southern California before they were able to see any of this excitement for themselves. This is another situation where I fell short, unable to keep them in town for the region’s big weekend.

I’d thought I was more prepared for this moment than I really was. Maybe it was hopefulness eclipsing actual certainty. I’d been outmatched and outmaneuvered, wilting when I needed to emerge and thrive. 

This had me in an unenviable position, just trying to scratch and grind out enough out enough to get HGTV, at least once, to avoid going down in flames as some laughable fraudster who'd tried to get people around him to buy into silliness. 

Response to TV Show Viewers: Post 43 - April 29, 2026

Charity Case Spruce Up - Response to TV Show Viewers: Post 41

Response to TV Show Viewers: Post 1 - January 23, 2026

Response to TV Show Viewers: Post 40 - April 22, 2026

In November 2013, I agreed to renovate the project house in Summerville, South Carolina with film crews on site. It would be for an untitled TV “series,” a vaguely defined concept where over the course of four episodes, I’d show viewers, aspiring home rehabbers and curious enthusiasts, how I resurrected a seemingly irredeemable house, or as my circle of peeps called it a “pig’s ear.”

Unlike many of my other jacked up messes, this home had not been condemned, nor was it abandoned and unwanted. However, it’d been placed back onto the market after failing inspections required by the lenders of other buyers, creating a win-win scenario that has been key to most of my projects—eager seller(s) and chomping-at-the-bit prospective buyer named Trent Fasnacht.  

Yet this is where my story detours, creating another lesson others can learn from. When verbal planning and prepping were scrapped and then altered, this should have been my off ramp back to normal, my walking away from discussions that had been presented as a golden opportunity.

However, my position was weak, my leverage flimsy. I’d been getting ready for over three months, without anything in writing, which as I’ve explained previously, was my first major misstep. Readiness, which included telling people this prep was all part of an opportunity to renovate my house with TV producers, painted me into a corner. The only way I saw out of that spot, was to be on television, ideally HGTV, somehow, some way. That meant taking whatever producers were willing to give me in mid-March 2014. And take whatever, is easy to imagine as less-than-ideal, far from admirable.

The series that had grown to a likely six episodes, three months rehabbing the entire house and positioning me to have a finished home to sell at the beginning of the busy spring buying season, real estate in one of the best school districts in Berchador, was suddenly scaled down to one—a pilot. A big maybe-for-more. I was disappointed, but still grateful. The film and construction crews would spend two weeks setting me up for the rest of the project.

My team of tradespeople had never laughed at me in person or over the phone, but they’d stopped waiting for me toward the end of January. And I was now telling myself this had been for the best. since due to the tight schedule, the producers preferred to bring on a general contractor to build the side porch and carport as I’d designed. And I wouldn’t have to work on the roof either since they’d subcontract its replacement as well. More good fortune as consolation.   

I really wanted to also demo the inside down to the studs, what was typical in the initial phase of any renovation. But because viewers would expect a payoff at the end, I agreed to us painting the exterior instead, from chocolate brown to something brighter.

It wasn’t what was laid out back in the fall, but it was still more than I could have imagined before any of this had started. I remained faithful that things would work out, and when my wife voiced her concerns, I reassured her that no matter what, we’d be alright. More than confident, I remained hopeful that I could take the project from however they left me and it.

Diann trusted me and I needed the producers to come through.  

*

It may soon read as if I’m whining and making excuses for not being great at my TV gig and capitalizing more on this opened door. And I have no issue preemptively apologizing for that. Yet, in order to explain how we started with the outside of the house, and answering some other questions, I’m aware that I have some explaining that could be interpreted as overly justifying or even something less venerable.

Here goes.

Once the film crew mobilized on my Summerville site and the Charleston peninsula, reality sank in how fun and interesting this would be with the challenge of having cameras on me steadily.

However, a new layer of haziness began to lift with it becoming clear that producers were taking on things differently than had been laid out for this one-episode long shot, or more importantly, what I’d been anticipating. The teams and crews on site seemed unaware or prepared for the agreement to include the carport, side porch, and roof as part of this pilot filming.

I’d changed, adjusted, and reworked my approach and expectations a lot. So, this latest situation was more than a hiccup for me. This was a giant crater in my newest revised plans.

In order for producers to stay tucked within their two-week window, they were driving everything, and this was far from all bad. They oversaw the schedule, budget, and lunch for me and producers. On some mornings, they even had donuts and coffee waiting when I arrived on site. And who doesn’t appreciate that sort of thoughtfulness? The production side was micro managed pretty thoroughly. Not to the minute, but strictly, impressively really, to each hour of every day excluding the one weekend, day one through ten.    

They also had an associate producer assigned to tell me what I should be wearing throughout each day. Although it was a fun distraction, this seemed unnecessary to me. In the Rehab Addict DVDs I’d been sent, Nicole Curtis worked in jeans or shorts and t-shirts, typical on sites like ours. But at show’s end, she was always dolled up, more like a realtor than a hands-on renovator, with fancier hair, makeup, and dressier clothes.

But the biggest issue that really threw me off more than I enjoy admitting, was that even though it was my house, for some show/series that had been described to me by others as mine, I was out of the loop, on the outside of any circle of collaboration. This meant that along with work on the production side, what I knew nothing about, I was also excluded from the planning, scheduling, and coordinating of the construction team and their scopes and activities, where my background was rooted and what had gotten me to that moment. And these were hearty punches to my gut, insulting and hurtful.

And with the revamped scope, this lack of inclusion was even more impactful since the people I’d spoken with on the phone the most, were not in the mix on site, but rather were off and hundreds of miles away working on other projects. What I’d been told was “a big deal,” was seeming less significant as this filming progressed.  

The reroof, side porch, and carport were all critical to my redesign, as well as interwoven with the logical sequencing and my perceived, altered progression of my rehab. I was expected to talk on camera about the project, but I was now uncomfortably nervous realizing I didn’t really understand what we were doing since it was so different than what I’d agreed to the week prior. I was confused, leading to obvious uncertainty I once again felt embarrassed over.  

Instead of a genuine effort to make a pilot that might be a chance at my own show or series pickup, it felt as if producers were trying to complete some sort of charity assignment to appease me and satisfy folks in Manhattan. Their focus was beyond brighter siding, and in lieu of the big three things I’d been regrouping over, causing me to wonder if network decision makers had redirected them to do other, alternative exterior improvements.

I needed to make up for the time I’d lost waiting—meat and potatoes, nuts and bolts, the early phase necessities. Yet producers were showering me with sizzle—a decadent arbor, French doors I wouldn’t need until the finish phase, landscaping and masonry that should come at the end, a new, super fancy garage door that would need to be protected from there on, etc.

Rather than an authentic home improvement show to teach and inspire viewers, producers were treating me like I was the winner of a once-in-a-lifetime experience to be a TV home renovator—they called me “the talent” and my clothes were “wardrobe.”

I’m not sure how else to describe it. It just seemed off, with me in this sea of smiling faces working hard at something so different than what I’d been prepped for.

Although I appreciated the kindness, generosity, and hospitality, starting the project on the exterior sent my mind racing over how this beginning at the end would impact my actual real-life plans and approach to continue on with the project afterwards.

I was up for facing this latest unexpected challenge. But to me this starting-on-the-outside-first approach was unnecessarily frustrating. Resurrecting an old, rotten, multiple addition house is hard enough without making unforced errors that just add to the difficulty. It was clear that a lot of time and money and effort was about to be wasted. Compounding this was the lost chance to recoup even more down the road by having the roof done now, as well as the carport and side porch as covered areas to work under and out of. Instead of me teaching people how to take on a challenging house, I was the main face on this featurette on how not to do it.

This approach was all made even more surprising with these being Rehab Addict people. They’d worked for years with Nicole Curtis. I’d just expected them to know all this even better than I did.

Starting with the initial redesigning of the house back in November, and then all the other misdirecting that had happened since, I’d reorganized so many times in the last three-plus months that I had lost track of revisions. My attitude of thankfulness was becoming cluttered with the reality of all the scopes that were being made harder and the beautiful new work that would have to be torn out and redone. To be honest, my fun and exciting experience was something of a heartbreak and I couldn’t understand why, other than my lack of experience and my over eagerness to start as usual—as soon as I left the closing table.

*

I hope this is coming out fair to all involved. To be crystal clear, the team of producers and contractors filming and working on the house could not have been nicer to my family and I. Given the three-month history creating these jumbled up circumstances, they did the best they could. However, I was out of sync on too much and it did feel as if they were patronizing me, just on the edge of being tolerable. Again, not their fault. There are reasons for this that all go back to me, things I did wrong that I knew of, but also mistakes lost in the fog.

It was absolutely thrilling to be the focus of all the attention, and I sincerely appreciated the effort being put forth on my behalf. But being honest with myself as I write, I was angry for botching this opportunity, for being so wide open to network and the production company just because they produced Rehab Addict. I shouldn’t have told Diann or anyone else what might be happening until I had written, signed off on agreements as a basis for my planning before starting.

But the thing is, I was afraid to push for anything binding, fearful that if I tried to lock down specifics, that my chance to see what it was like on the other side of the camera would disappear like a fleck of sawdust in the wind. I suppose that I’m now conceding that my faith had borders I was unwilling to recognize.

Response to TV Show Viewers: Post 42 - April 27, 2026

Mines over Minefields - Response to TV Show Viewers: Post 40

Response to TV Show Viewers: Post 1 - January 23, 2026

Response to TV Show Viewers: Post 39 - April 20, 2026

Rather than writing about mining for precious metals or minerals versus walking through some landscape laced with explosives, I’m sharing a take on blunders, something most can understand. But more than just making mistakes, I’m writing on the value of mine.

Early on, when someone asked me how I ended up rehabbing my houses on television, I said something that may be the easiest and most accurate answer in a nutshell: I’ve screwed up a lot. And those missteps are like breadcrumbs leading me from Darke County, Ohio to Berchador, South Carolina and yapping away on American Rehab Charleston and Restoring Charleston. In committing to this series responding to TV show viewers, their questions and requests for advice, I’ve been overwhelmed by the additions to my list of foul-ups.

Although I think it may be entertaining to share my mistakes in frank detail, what people may benefit from more is knowing what to do. But this is not a one-way street, where I’m just thinking this all out, and writing and posting for others. There’s something in it for me too and I think that’s one of the revelations, one of many waking me in the middle of the night. I don’t actually need people to tell me that I made a lot of errors. In the posts up to this point, I’ve tried to make it clear that I understand that. But these observers have only skimmed the surface. The depths of my minefield traipsing are vast, more than anyone but me can ever know, far beyond what I’m able to write about. And there is value in the deep worth tapping into.

Rather than what not to do, it’ll be more helpful to think in the positive. And the big first lesson is, no matter how busy you may be, and regardless of how enamored you are with the people you are working with, write out the specifics in detail. Get concurrence in the form of signatures from authorized decision makers.

I’m including a music video. This song, it’s lyrics and message, are fitting at this stage of my story. After a quick recap, please take a few minutes to listen.

After being paired up with the Minnesota production company behind the hit show Rehab Addict starring blonde dynamo Nicole Curtis, I learned that my next project house and I would be the subjects of a four-episode home renovation series to be on either HGTV, DIY, or both channels. The expected wait over the holidays turned into three humbling months when preparations and communication with producers was minimal. My wife and I had been doing our part to get ready, and within this had told those who needed to know about my future working with the film crew. Then, like a phoenix rising up out of Arizona, things began to happen at the beginning of March after I received a second unsolicited email from a completely different production company. Suddenly, instead of four episodes, we were looking down the barrel of a six-episode opportunity.

Response to TV Show Viewers: Post 41 - Coming Soon

Lofty Regards for HGTV - Response to TV Show Viewers: Post 39

Response to TV Show Viewers: Post 1 - January 23, 2026

Response to TV Show Viewers: Post 38 - April 17, 2026

The road ahead had seemed so promising. After casting my blogging line in and out of the online stream, like some sort of cyber fisherman, I’d finally snagged the attention of the home improvement networks in October 2013. Next, we’d managed to record and submit introductory videos I sent up to New York, leading to a film crew visit to create a test reel. Despite my unwillingness to say, “My name is Trent, and I’m addicted to rehab,” the network people had been excited, resulting in a green light from Kathleen Finch, President of HGTV. Even better, this award of a series synced with a three-month schedule that coincided with one of our tri-county region’s biggest weekends of the year.

I’d apparently delivered on camera and off, and I had been hovering. But a hundred or so days in, late into February 2014, and this opportunity for a TV series being described by others as my show, began to fizzle out. Promised phone calls didn’t happen. Planned meetings failed to materialize without adequate explanations. Start dates, original and revised, were blown past without expected concern.    

My big shot was crumbling mysteriously.  

Within this bizarre wait, I developed my personal, privately held theory that the man in Minneapolis, the point person leading any efforts, would soon be replaced. In my imaginations, either he’d be moving to greener pastures or torpedoed out of the picture in lieu of another producer who wanted the assignment, had the time, and/or both. That’s when I started to throttle down and coast as I hung on for what I anticipated would be someone new, a top-down move with a new designee assigned by the network that I admired so much.

As I focused on my prep, my wife had done all she could while still making sure the kids had a special Christmas. And as we moved through January then deeper into February, Diann and I stopped telling our people, “They’re coming.” Instead, we’d just shrug our shoulders sheepishly while saying, “We just don’t know what’s going on,” which was the truest thing we could say to people likely beginning to take us for falsehood spinners or morons on some sort of ride to the cleaners.     

During this three month wait, we’d told people I was going to be working with HGTV and DIY, and when that didn’t happen, I felt stuck. I’m not sure of the big difference between embarrassment and humiliation, but I think we were getting rained on by steady drops of each. It wasn’t bragging, I hadn’t wanted to tell anyone. But we had to. We had to do our part to get set.

By most accounts of people on the inside, my family and I were being treated poorly. I realize that many would have pulled themselves out of consideration, but I felt waiting had become my best option. Some might see this as foolish and ignorant. Others will feel it was wise and mature. I’m not sure who’s right. I’m inclined to think both camps have valid takes.

But then, a spark was followed by the flicker of flames. On March 6^th, 2014, I received an email from another production company vaguely referencing their own knowledge of what I was in a holding pattern about. It was a chance to talk, to bail on HGTV/DIY. Although I was rightly curious about what this second producer had to say, I really had a good feeling about the home improvement networks’ programming director. I didn’t know her background or upbringing, but getting acquainted over the phone, she reminded me of Midwestern friends, maybe even neighborhood parents or moms here at the kid’s schools. I felt I could trust her, something rare for me in general. Plus, as a home renovator, these coupled channels felt worth waiting for more than any others.

My reputation, along with my wife’s, was knotted up within this fading prospect. And significantly, although they’d lost some of their sparkle during this period, being on HGTV was important. Holding on to hopes, I wanted and needed to see this play out, feeling that for a week or two at least, I should hold steady with the Scripps channels as my first best option until they officially quit on me.

I checked in with producers hoping to gauge the likelihood of them actually showing up. And to my surprise, they had Heavens to Betsy answers. They were unexpectedly certain, more than they’d been over the last three months. There was a starting date they seemed confident about. Actual names were shared of the team members and their respective roles.

Almost immediately, these named folks began emailing me individually, requesting pictures and scope descriptions while describing episode breakdowns for me.    

Then along with this improved attitude, and the feeling of excitement buzzing through my cell phone and inbox, I was given more good news. Four episodes didn’t seem like it would be enough and the producers were putting forth a fresh proposal to extend the series to six. I was taken aback, sharing my amazement with the lead executive disclosing this great news. “But you haven’t even seen the property, or inside the house,” I said.

“We don’t need to,” he answered with his usual tone of admirable confidence, “We’ve seen the footage.” Meaning, they’d seen what was recorded for the test reel and he was certain that knowledge was all he needed to make his pitch.

I had so much to learn about television. To me, an in-person review of the site, and walkthrough of the property, seeing and feeling and taking it all in, was inequivalent to looking at pictures on a screen or watching video. But this was the production company who produced Rehab Addict. He knew a lot more than I did. He seemed rock solid about his, our chances, of persuading network decision makers to invest more in my house and show so who was I to cast doubt? I knew the answer. I was a nobody who’d been waiting for over three months. I felt I’d no choice but to take what they were willing to give me. And six episodes as opposed to four was better, so it looked like my patience was about to payoff.

I responded to the production executive with genuine gratitude, a simple, “Thanks. That sounds awesome.”

And after we ended our call, I sent off a simple email to the development producer representing production company number two, something amounting to how I appreciated him reaching out, but that I was already working with HGTV/DIY.

Response to TV Show Viewers: Post 40 - Coming Soon

Misreading TV Production Tea Leaves - Response to TV Show Viewers: Post 38

Response to TV Show Viewers: Post 1 - January 23, 2026

Response to TV Show Viewers: Post 37 - April 15, 2026

Clearly, I managed to do some things right, leading to me chatting it up, sledge in hand, on American Rehab Charleston and Restoring Charleston. But people expected more from me than just the two shows, or they needed me to be a lot better than I was. Plus, they might feel as if their support and enthusiasm earned them some explaining. And I get that.

In answering questions, I want to steer clear of excuses or pointing my finger. People worked really hard on my behalf and carelessness can inaccurately seem as if I’m ungrateful. And I also want to avoid that however I can.

I suppose that circling in a holding pattern in early 2014, taking in things as they were presented, would have been a noteworthy strategy if results had unfolded much more favorably, as so many had hoped. But in my case, it’s also understandable why some, or many, might ask, why didn’t you call the network and ask, “What’s the holdup?” Or maybe “How about checking back in with the programming director to talk out the idea of a different production company?” And some people might feel an attorney representing me would have been the best tactic to get results to match directives issued.

Thinking back on it, being honest with myself and candid with readers here, I was intimidated. This was a group of experienced people who were all much better connected than me. I simply felt as if I was on the edge of familiarity and comfort and something new and different, professional growth and experience I was after, and if I pushed wrongly, I’d be over and out with my opportunity gone. And the longer things dragged on, the weaker I felt my position became.

As I’ve described, I was excited to work with the same people who produced Rehab Addict. Besides some semi-hallucinated idea that Nicole Curtis’ comment on my blog had led to the network’s interest, I felt this team of creators in Minneapolis had proven themselves qualified to be on site to document the saving of the types of houses I took on.

In December and January, my focus had been on my part: lining up my subcontractors and making sure close friends and family were ready to help get kids to schools, maybe appointments and activities, and then home safely without too much inconvenience or chaos. Then when start dates were ignored, those arrangements were postponed, then embarrassingly shelved.    

Although I was without any background in television, what I saw as commonsense had me speculating that the appointed lead producer was behaving like a temp, or rather someone with their foot out the door. Month after month, my assumption grew stronger. January, then February, and even crossing into March, I anticipated someone on the other end of the phone soon telling me, so-and-so is out and here’s who’ll be taking over from here. That would have made sense to me, and I put too much imagination into that happening.

One hundred plus days in, I felt stuck. My options seemed hazy and hopes were growing dim.  

Response to TV Show Viewers: Post 39 - April 20, 2026

Logical Questions Calling for Reasonable Answers - Response to TV Show Viewers: Post 37

Response to TV Show Viewers: Post 1 - January 23, 2026

Response to TV Show Viewers: Post 36

It’s feeling like another opening to revisit the gratitude I’ve built up for all the folks who have taken time to reach out to me. I appreciate the warm words and the harsh ones. I’ve been handed much to mull over, leading me to reconsider and write about that decade in the rearview mirror that started with the house projects featured in American Rehab Charleston and Restoring Charleston. This reflection of how moments unfolded or sometimes evaporated has churned up fond memories along with lessons worth sharing. I hope my openness helps at least one follower of this series. 

In November 2013, when we were awarded four episodes by the network, it is reasonable for some to believe I should have pounced on this green light like a tiger attacking a juicy slab of beef. It was quite a break, a chance to have a TV series to help people see how they might tackle a jacked-up house of their own.

Although I had practical faith in me doing my part, after three months, I was increasingly less certain about those on the other ends of the phone in Manhattan and Minnesota. Anticipated written specifics from the network had not materialized. In person planning and prep hadn’t happened. Original and revised starting dates had come and gone. I’m not saying this was all on the shoulders of others since I'd failed to nail down specifics in writing early on. Plus, they were juggling countless shows and projects, and I only had the one. My growing uncertainty was just a fact within this time period and this large dearth of details I was left holding became awkwardly obvious when I spoke with people on my end, starting with the simplest question, but still one I was unable to answer. “When y’all starting?”  

Many would also ask, “What show is it?”

I was clueless on this too, saying something like, “Good question,” “I don’t know,” or “There isn’t a title yet.”

“What channel will it be on?” was another commoner.

“HGTV and maybe DIY. That’s still being decided,” I’d answer.

This always got attention, “HGTV?! Wow! Cool.” Followed up with, “But what’s the other one…DIY?”

“The DIY Network,” I’d say and often add, “It stands for Do-It-Yourself.”

Then a lot of times I’d hear something amounting to, “Okay. We have HGTV, but I’ve never heard of DIY. I wonder if we can get it.”

This was when I realized that local basic cable packages included HGTV, but getting the DIY network cost more, at least in our part of the country.

“So, when will this thing be on?” was another question I fielded a lot.  

But I had no legitimate sounding comeback for that either.

Through these early weeks and months, I was being politely shown over and again, that this chance I saw as valid was actually pretty sketchy. My lack of details made me seem gullible and foolish and that didn’t feel great. It made sense that the right folks would only be interested in working with, or for, serious people. And being so inadequately ready and equipped for the fundamental planning was unsettling.  

(Response to TV Show Viewers: Post 38 - April 17, 2026)

Foundations are the Key - Response to TV Show Viewers: Post 36

(Response to TV Show Viewers: Post 1 - January 23, 2026)

(Response to TV Show Viewers: Post 35 - April 11, 2026)

The Golden Rule is fundamental: treat other people as you want to be treated. Some might say the standard for carpentry is measure twice, cut once. I’ll offer what many sages see as the key to building and construction in general: get the foundation right before you go vertical with the structure everyone will see.

Have you ever kept an eye on a major build and thought:

What’s taking so long?

When are we gonna get to start seeing some actual building?

The foundation phase is sometimes surprisingly extensive, especially for larger, more involved structures. But once the base is complete, activity oftentimes escalates inversely to the early phase and the structure seems to shoot up and out, with the project taking shape quickly as the permanent building assumes its position.

Over the years I’ve hears building veterans’ deliver the same message in a variety of ways, often saying something sounding like: if you don’t get the foundation right, you’ll be fighting the building the whole way. And it’s so true. The foundation is crucial in commercial, residential, and all other factions of construction. The initial efforts are consistently paramount to what’s coming along after. 

Foundational work is tedious, time consuming,
and too easily overlooked &/or forgotten
 

I’ve tried to rework this insight to sound less foreboding, more encouraging: Get the foundation right & what follows will unfold smoother.

Proactive, upfront efforts can apply to more than erecting a steel structure or framing up a house. One can apply this introductory step taking to starting a career, business, or partnership, professional or personal. If things get started off correctly, down the pike will be better than if something significant is kicked off too quickly and without proper planning.

As I described in a previous post, in December of 2013, I should have scheduled a trip up to New York City, and probably even Minneapolis. That would have established needed clarity for all involved, resulting in documented specifics that were signed off on. However, I was overly flattered, and frankly too intimidated to make this move.

Once I had something in writing with network executives, I could have begun assembling teams. These advisors would have included an attorney, business manager, accountant, project manager, and superintendent or people helping me wearing more than one of these caps. Some of us would then sit in an office scratching notes and drafting documents to be reviewed and signed. Other meetups would take place in a war room with the floorplans, architectural renderings, spreadsheets, calendars, and the site plan.

And then on the family side, commitments to help with our kids would be ironed out, dependable caregivers to pick up the slack so their young lives didn’t feel disrupted too severely during this three-month phase coming up around the bend.

After all, if the network was paying for the renovation costs, then I could invest some resources into support on my end, fulltime/four-month staff from December through March.

These are foundational steps and pieces that needed to happen before all that would follow. I was simply ill equipped to take even these steps, and in that way, not really ready for this unexpected opportunity that was more than I could have asked for or imagined.

At the end of 2013, I did not meet this moment as needed and this faltering on my part was my biggest mistake of many. I wasn’t savvy and mature enough and this initial business malpractice was where I botched my chance to really leave my mark. It’s not all really plain and very simple to understand, but this is the stone-cold nutshell truth none the less. And so, one of the lessons driven further home for me is the value in getting the foundation right, in something new like renovating with film crews, so that what follows will unfold more smoothly.

(Response to TV Show Viewers: Post 36 - April 15, 2026)

Three Months of Patience and Faith - Response to TV Show Viewers: Post 35

(Response to TV Show Viewers: Post 1 - January 23, 2026)

(Response to TV Show Viewers: Post 34 - April 8, 2026)

I apologize for not posting yesterday. I’m at a tougher part of my story, with several attempts to answer questions from here, yet nothing coming out in a way that seemed fair to all involved.

HGTV/DIY awarded us a series in November 2013 and wanted us to start filming in January after the holidays. The programing director asked me to hold off on working on my project house, wanting me to wait for the production crews. Instead of prepping to reframe and rough-in, I met with potential contractors as my wife and I started lining up childcare backup for the kids.

However, the production company didn’t sync up and December, then January and February came and went. Executive producers from Minneapolis didn’t visit to meet me or review the house and property in person.

I’m not sure what kept them from coming. That’s what the programming director had expected and then what I prepared for. I think producers may have needed me to do things I just didn’t know to do, or maybe it just boils down to me being incapable of asking the right questions.

I probably should have taken the initiative to travel to both New York and Minnesota in December to meet face to face and nail down details and specifics. I was letting them lead, but in hindsight, it was my responsibility to assume control of the renovation as well as the production. I was ready to be a part of the team but not prepared as I needed to be to take charge of everything this opportunity had to offer.

Some might suggest, that after three months, I just move on. However, I had told contractors why I was waiting. And as a couple, we’d let people who needed to know what was about to happen, so they’d be ready with us.

And so, I felt stuck between what I wanted and what I felt I had to do. And that’s just how life is for all of us sometimes.

Since the network told me to wait, I felt that as long as I continued to stand at attention, they would be obligated, at least in theory, to send producers to film me as I renovated the house in Summerville, South Carolina. So, for three months, and then into a fourth, that’s what I did. I waited. I had no contract, nor recordings of conversations or promises made over the phone. Just patience and faith.

(Response to TV Show Viewers: Post 36 - Coming Soon)