Sworded

I get the impression that yesterday was a weird day for everyone. Today, despite the work running late, everything felt kinda wonderful and alive.

You deserve to know a little about the process. In general, the early days of the week are about brainstorming the events that’ll happen on the show. This is the fun bit, the bit everyone wants to do (and yes, I mean you). It’s broad and funny, and even the frustrating mental gymnastics are tempered by the realisation that making up stuff is fucking cool. I think I’m doing this part of the process okay. I haven’t completely made an idiot of myself yet. At least to my knowledge.

The rest of the week, the other half of the job, is transforming the brainstorming into precise and immutable story notes, suitable for network executives and scriptwriters alike. This is the bit I’m worried about. Without immense talent at this bit, there’s no future for me here. My doubts about my prose skills hang over me Sword of Damocles-like.

Strangely, I walked from the building today with a glimmer of hope that I can get good at the whole process. It’s a good glimmer.