Many of history's greatest discoveries and successes—across science, technology, and entertainment—were accidental. More importantly, those accidents weren’t always championed by corporate leadership. In my world, I saw this firsthand.

In a TLDR world, selling for scribblers is harder than ever. Pre-Covid it was all about navigating the LA freeways on a tight schedule to go from studio to network and so on. Now it’s all about pitching your show or flick online to a landscape of global buyers.

Ever click on a YouTube documentary that seems real, with grainy archival footage, expert interviews, and eerie music underscoring every revelation. But as the video unfolds, a creeping suspicion grows: is any of this actually true?

Screen life films are some of the most profitable movies in modern cinema. Why? Because they take the golden rule of indie filmmaking—keep it cheap, make it engaging—and crank it up to eleven.

SolForge Fusion's player-driven storytelling, personalized narratives, and cross-platform design highlight some critical elements for anyone curious about the future of transmedia narratives.

Screen life storytelling mirrors how we live our digital lives. Once seen as a budget-friendly gimmick, the format has become a genre of its own, using technology to amplify tension, intimacy, and reality in ways traditional filmmaking can’t.

The best scribblers aren't just great at putting words on the page - they're great at helping others improve, elevate, and survive the forever war of crafting commercial art.

Great video game storytelling doesn’t always come from a script-first approach. Sometimes, the story is embedded in the art, the animation, and the smallest design choices. By treating visuals as the first draft of the narrative, we allow characters to speak before they ever say a word.

When I guested on Justin Gary’s Think Like a Game Designer podcast, we chatted about Transmedia Storytelling. A cross-platform approach to narrative I hadn't thought about in a while. I’ve seen how it can transform a TV show from a passive viewing experience into an immersive, participatory story-verse for those inclined to engage.

Every writers room I've sat in was shaped by the showrunner - their battle scars, their gut feelings, bad marriages, previous projects, blind spots, and what they think making "good TV" looks like. You can't fix a show's culture with a pep talk or a whiteboard session. It's dictated by the alpha in the pack.

Playing D&D taught me a lot about power dynamics. When a new Dungeon Master takes over a campaign, they usually nuke whatever the old DM built - even if the players were having a blast. It's not about the game being bad; it's about the new dog marking their territory.

Here's a weird comparison that hit me this AM: Bitcoin vs. content creation. Both are based on imagination and the power of story-telling to generate IRL revenue for those who partake. But they are absolutely not aligned when it comes to scarcity. Uh-oh.

I was flipping through the latest issue of Monocle when a story about the Moomin brand caught my eye. They described their vibe as providing a "roadmap to happiness" for customers.

List of LLMs as of 02/21/25

From the writer's room of iconic TV shows to the uncharted frontier of next-gen gaming, change is the only constant in the entertainment racket.

I read Simon Pulman’s analysis of the TV biz on LinkedIn this AM. It inspired me to send the various AI LLMs down a rabbit hole of research and reporting. This is what ChatGPT, Claude, Gemini, Perplexity, and DeepSeek came up with. How many hallucinations can you identify? How many brutal truths?

I ran some self-assessments of the big LLMs like Gemini, Claude Opus, ChatGPT, Deep Seek, and Perplexity to evaluate their strengths and stretches re creativity and wordsmithing.

After years of working in writers' rooms on TV shows, I've had an epiphany about effectively collaborating with Large Language Models (LLMs): the dynamic mirrors that of a showrunner working with a room of specialized scribblers.

Too many scripts sag under the weight of pointless scenes, overexplaining dialogue, and characters that don't pull their weight. If Marie Kondo can transform our closets, why can’t we apply that magic to our screenplays?