Frankfurt


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‘John sits in seat 4a, flying over a cloudy Europe. Taking out his ipod, he scrolls though it and settles upon the album, ‘American Life’ by Madonna. He looks out of the window. The title track starts to play. He then remembers that maybe this isn’t her best work and skips a few tracks.’

 

I do enjoy using my imagination and thinking about John and his trips abroad, but I’ve got to say, I’m not totally sure where my writing career is going at at the moment. I mean, I’d love to write something for television. It would be amazing to hear my words up there. Though I’m sure though that world is incredibly cut throat and competitive. One minute you’re lauded by the critics, the next you’re suddenly you’re out of date. I don’t know. Maybe I should be a bit more positive in my career visualisation. 

I guess if I am to imagine my future in TV writing, I do see myself getting dropped by the BBC quite quickly. I think I receive the call from my agent to tell me this when I’m in, I don’t know, somewhere like John Lewis. I pretend to understand as we chat and he explains to me why the series wasn’t recommissioned. But my attention is more on the Orla Keilly duvet covers in front of me.  After hanging up, I’m on the escalator and heading towards the fifth floor. There, a sales assistant comes over; explains the difference between LCD, LED and plasma screens and the various sizes. And it’s such a huge relief to have my mind taken off that phone call of a few minutes earlier. And I think I do see myself walking out of the store a few minutes later with a Sony Bravia forty-two inch TV, a new television that maybe I didn’t really need.

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