I’m just gonna say it: I’m okay. Not great. Not horrible. Just… okay.
Maybe it’s this never-ending, soul-sucking winter. Washington, DC dodged snow for years, and now we’re getting hammered. Maybe it’s the lack of sunlight. (Seriously, WHERE is it?!) Or maybe it’s the sheer amount of change happening all at once.
For those of us in media, television, and creative industries, we’ve been on a rollercoaster with no seatbelt for a while now. The TV industry is shrinking—FAST. I have friends who haven’t had steady work in over 16 months. Freelancers are struggling. Networks and production companies are fighting tooth and nail for even one commission. It’s not just tough. It’s brutal.
And it’s not just media. I have family members , and let me tell you—when the government decides to shake things up, it does NOT do so gently. Mass layoffs. Hiring freezes. Radical reorganizations. Sound familiar? If you’ve worked in media, publishing, tech, or honestly any industry experiencing massive shifts, you know this feeling well:
👉 That uncertainty.
👉 That weight on your chest.
👉 That gnawing anxiety that makes you wonder, am I doing enough?
Then, Saturday Night Live’s 50th Anniversary Special aired, and I felt seen.
Andy Samberg and Bowen Yang performed Everyone Who Worked on SNL Has Anxiety, listing name after name of cast members who have struggled with the relentless stress of the show.
Bowen’s verse? OOF. He fears that if he does take care of his mental health and slows down, he’ll be forgotten.
Anyone else feel that deep in their soul?
And if you watched the SNL 50 docuseries on Peacock, it got even more real. One episode focused on the writers, and let me tell you—"writer" is a criminal understatement for what they do. In my industry, they’d be called a producer/writer/director/firefighter/creative-genius-who-sleeps-never. And they do in ONE WEEK what most of us do in a month.
I’ve been there. That razor-thin tightrope between adrenaline and anxiety, where you’re buzzing with excitement one minute and absolutely convinced you’re a fraud the next.
⚡ You’re THRILLED to be creating something new.
⚡ You’re ALSO terrified that it’s garbage and you’re wasting everyone’s time.
Sound familiar? This is the mental tightrope of every creative, freelancer, and media professional trying to navigate an industry that’s constantly shifting.
And when you pile on:
✅ A contracting job market
✅ Uncertainty for friends and family
✅ The pressure to “stay relevant”
…it’s no wonder so many of us feel like we’re white-knuckling it through our careers.
💡 Being okay is like driving the speed limit (or even slowing down when the rain is really coming down).
💡 Being okay is curling up with your go-to comfort food because you know it’s gonna hit just right.
💡 Being okay is NOT something you need to apologize for.
You are not failing because you’re not thriving. You’re living.
And if you’re feeling this way? Drop a comment! I’d love to hear your thoughts! Because I guarantee—you’re not alone.
I got a text* from an old friend the other day. Her daughter, a junior producer fresh in the industry, had a problem. She was supposed to coordinate a weekend shoot, but the camera rental fell through. Now, this wasn’t a high-stakes production—just an internal screening, a location and talent recce, a simple one-day site visit. But she was stuck. She asked if I had a specific prosumer camera.
I am not a cameraperson. My gear consists of a Canon Rebel SLR, a $75 digital recorder, and an iPhone. Not exactly a rental house. The best I could offer was a reminder that B&H could overnight ship—for the bargain price of $4,800. (Sarcasm very much intended.)
But I had one more piece of advice: find a solution.
Chances are, she or someone in her network had a high-quality smartphone or digital camera. The job needed to get done, so she had to get it done.
Producing television is an endless cycle of problem-solving. You lay out a plan with every intention of it working, while also drafting five backup plans just in case. (If you’re a wildlife filmmaker, triple that number.)
It’s a high-stress, high-stakes industry, and I’ve seen incredibly talented people burn out over the years. I’m not saying this to be dramatic—it’s just the reality. Even when everything goes perfectly, this business is unpredictable and relentless.
So, how do you overcome roadblocks? Here are a few tried-and-true strategies: 👇
You cannot over-research. I have never once regretted doing too much. The deeper your knowledge, the more prepared you’ll be for anything that comes your way.
Scouting a location? Pick three, not one. Conducting an interview? Map out different directions it could go. Camera breaks down? Know how to pivot—smartphones shoot in HD and beyond these days. The goal is to keep your eyes on the prize and be flexible in how you get there.
Even the best-laid plans can go off the rails when emotions take over. Now, I’m not saying you should be a heartless robot—to quote Honeybee Shaw, “aw, hell no.” But staying level-headed, focusing on the facts, and making decisions based on logic instead of panic, rage, or fear will always serve you better.
I know some line producers and network execs are going towill hate me for saying this, but: it’s just television. If every single plan crumbles and you can’t salvage the shoot, what’s the worst that can happen? You might lose your job. And yes, that’s awful. But it’s not the end of the world. Failure happens. I’ve failed more times than I can count in my career. I am almost ’m 99% certain I wasam responsible for one of the worst-performing shows in Nat Geo history.
I’ve had concepts unravel in minutes thanks to an uncooperative interviewee. I’ve even had an A-list celebrity try to get me fired over a very minor “misunderstanding.”
Did I cry in my car? Maybe. Did I throw things? Allegedly. But after a deep breath (or five), I reminded myself: this is just a roadblock, not a dead end.
Roadblocks only stop you if you let them. Do your research. Plan ahead. Stay cool. Keep things in perspective.
Oh, and my friend’s daughter? She worked with the line producer, adjusted the schedule, and secured the right equipment. Crisis averted.
There is always a solution. 💡
* Details have been tweaked to protect privacy, but the essence of the story remains. Don’t come at me with a Hasan Minhaj exposé. 😉
A few years ago, I listened to the audiobook of Mike Nichols: A Life. If you’ve been living under a rock (or just buried in deadlines) and don’t know his name, let me catch you up: Mike Nichols was one of the most successful, influential, and daring directors ever. And I’m not just talking about film. Theater, comedy, television—this man did it all:
📽️ The Graduate
🎭 Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf?
✨ Angels in America
👠 Working Girl
🎤 Whoopi Goldberg Live on Broadway
And let’s not forget his comedy genius alongside Elaine May. This man was da bomb before that phrase even existed. 💥
But here’s the kicker: Not everything Nichols touched turned to gold. For every masterpiece, there was The Day of the Dolphin or Regarding Henry (woof).
One thing that stuck with me from the book was Nichols’ obsessive need to create. He wasn’t content coasting on past successes—he had to keep working. Whether it was a film, a play, or consulting on a flailing TV comedy, he needed to be making something.
And guess what? Some of it flopped. Hard.
But here’s the thing: Every creative fails. (Yes, you too. And me. And Spielberg. And every artist you admire.)
🎨 How many canvases have you repainted? 🎬 How many film ideas are collecting dust in your notes app? 📝 How many projects have you mentally erased from your résumé?
Failure isn’t just possible—it’s inevitable. And the best creatives? They don’t avoid failure. They use it.
One of the greatest film directors of all time, Francis Ford Coppola, recently served up a masterclass in failing boldly. His self-financed epic Megalopolis was hyped to the heavens—only to crash under the weight of expectations. It didn’t take home an Oscar, but it did snag Worst Director at the Razzies. (Oof.)
Coppola’s response? Legendary.
“I am thrilled to accept the Razzie award in so many important categories for Megalopolis, and for the distinctive honor of being nominated as the worst director, worst screenplay, and worst picture at a time when so few have the courage to go against the prevailing trends of contemporary moviemaking! [...] In this wreck of a world today, where ART is given scores as if it were professional wrestling, I chose to NOT follow the gutless rules laid down by an industry so terrified of risk that despite the enormous pool of young talent at its disposal, may not create pictures that will be relevant and alive 50 years from now.”
Translation? He’s unbothered. Because while the industry plays it safe, Coppola dares to fail.
It’s easy to say “Well, Coppola’s 90+ years old, he has nothing left to prove.” But that’s not the point. The real takeaway? Great artists don’t let failure stop them.
Even Steven Spielberg, a box office god, has made some major flops. (Anyone remember 1941? Yeah, me neither.) Read any comedian’s autobiography, and you’ll see chapter after chapter dedicated to their worst shows and jokes that fell flat. It happens. To everyone.
But the greats—Nichols, Spielberg, Coppola—kept going. They bombed. They got up. They made something else.
And that’s what sets real creatives apart.
🚀 Keep creating. Fail forward. Own your vision. Because when you swing for the fences, sometimes you miss. And sometimes? You make history.
I am a baseball fan—though, honestly, "fan" might not even be a strong enough word. I have season tickets to my beloved Washington Nationals ⚾. I've attended not one but TWO World Series, including 2019’s legendary Game 7. And every winter, like clockwork, I rewatch Ken Burns’s BASEBALL as if it’s required reading for life.
Alright, fine. I am deeply, madly, irreversibly obsessed with baseball.
One of the many reasons I love the sport? Success in baseball is all about perspective. The best hitters in history—Ted Williams, Tony Gwynn, Hank Aaron, Babe Ruth, Willie Mays—hovered around a .400 batting average. That means even the greatest of all time failed more than they succeeded.
Need some perspective? Here’s a golden line from Bull Durham that nails it:
Crash Davis: "You know what the difference between hitting .250 and .300 is? It's 25 hits. Twenty-five hits in 500 at-bats is 50 points, OK? There's 6 months in a season, that's about 25 weeks. That means if you get just one extra flare a week—just one—a gorp… you get a groundball, you get a groundball with eyes... you get a dying quail, just one more dying quail a week... and you're in Yankee Stadium.”
Wild, right? 🤯 One tiny bloop hit can be the difference between baseball immortality and total obscurity.
That mindset is exactly how my beloved Nationals turned their abysmal 2019 season around. They started with a dismal 19-31 record. Not great! But instead of spiraling, Manager Davey Martinez told the team to focus on going 1-0 every day. They did just that—stringing together small wins until they won the damn World Series. 🏆
We get so fixated on the big moment that we forget to celebrate the small steps that get us there. But if you’re not recognizing your progress, you’re robbing yourself of motivation.
Wins aren’t just final outcomes—they’re the small, everyday moments of progress. Sent that email you’ve been dreading? Win. Showed up at that networking event when you’d rather be in sweatpants? Win.
Reward yourself—treat yourself to a cacao nib (or, let’s be real, a cookie 🍪), share your progress with a friend, or just take a deep breath and whisper, winner.
Every challenge you overcome is proof of your resilience. Re-read that Bull Durham quote. It’s all about the tiny shifts that lead to the big moments.
Share your wins with people who get it. Find your cheering squad (or your own personal Nats Park Section 316) and root, root, root for yourself and others.
You’re not going to win the World Series every day. And even the best of the best fail more often than they succeed. But those small wins? They add up.
xx
I was in my 20s, managing the regional office of a creative staffing agency when we were hit with some HR issues. So, my colleagues and I decided to host a Midwest Team Building Conference.
Our budget? Non-existent.
Google? Not invented yet.
The mission? Make it impactful and fun.
The other regional managers and I each created a session covering essential topics. But we all agreed:
“We didn’t want this to be lectures. We wanted participation and bonding.”
So naturally, I brought in a childhood classic—Hot Potato—as an exercise. The goal? See how many compliments we could throw around before the buzzer.
I don’t remember the exact compliment count, but I do remember a room full of grown adults playing that silly game... and walking away motivated and connected.
Fast forward nearly 30 years... After 15 years in corporate media, I’ve seen all kinds of team-building events. Some good. Some so boring they made me want to poke my eyes out with a dry-erase marker.
One event sticks with me: The facilitator asked for feedback. I gave mine. He spent the next five minutes explaining why I was wrong. Spoiler alert: I was right. MythBusters lasted another 10 seasons. 😎
As I started expanding my career beyond television, I kept thinking about those joyful moments in workshops. Ask my past teams—I was always the “let’s jump in the conference room and plot this out with exercises” girl. Creativity + collaboration? Sign me up.
That passion led me to get certified as a Design Sprint Workshop Facilitator through AJ Smart. Why them? Because they were having fun!
Imagine a workshop with nothing but Post-it notes... and loving every minute of it. (Okay, I get that sounds like creative torture for some—but for me, it was bliss.)
I actually enjoyed the classes. Who'd thunk? 🤓
Since then, I’ve discovered incredible companies bringing the “fun belongs at work” mindset to life:
🎈 Alexandra Suchman & BarometerXP – “The Science of Play At Work”
🎭 Romy Malin – using her theater chops to build collaboration and chaos-taming magic
Here’s the gist:
👉 Work can be fun.
👉 Fun doesn’t kill productivity.
👉 In fact, it might be the missing ingredient.
Productivity for productivity’s sake forgets the obvious:
We’re not machines. We’re humans. And humans need connection, engagement, and meaning.
And for the "data-only" crowd who say,
“You’re not here to be entertained,” I say: Have you seen Moneyball?
Billy Beane brought analytics into baseball scouting. What happened?
“The A’s still have not won a World Series.” ⚾
Because data doesn’t measure the intangibles:
✨ Collaboration
✨ Chemistry
✨ Clutch energy
For every team engineered by stats, there’s a championship squad built on heart—heroes like Kiké Hernández, Howie Kendrick, and Corey Seager.
Bottom line? Work that includes joy, creativity, and connection doesn’t just feel better—it performs better.
I look forward to bringing my unique blend of business savvy and Bob’s Burgers silliness to your company.
I’ll bring the games. 🧩
(Yes, It’s Kind of a Mess... But Don’t Change the Channel Just Yet)
I recently gave a webinar on how to turn a spark of an idea into a fully baked TV pitch. I’ve done a few of these—helping creators shape their visions into something sellable. And honestly? It’s been an absolute joy to give back after 20+ years of developing, producing, developing, producing... you get the idea.
During the Q&A, someone asked the inevitable:
"What do you think of the current television landscape? It’s pretty bad out there. Do you think it will bounce back?"
Sigh. This question pops up every time. And every time, I flinch just a little before answering.
Let’s rewind. I started at the Discovery Channels in 1999, right as the cable boom was picking up steam. It was Discovery and Animal Planet in the beginning, with the Travel Channel just acquired. Before long, The Learning Channel (TLC) joined the party. International channels were launching, and the future looked damn bright.
By the time I left in 2007, TLC had fully embraced its reality era, Planet Green was born, and Discovery Networks was thriving. The same waves were rolling through A&E, Fox, Scripps, Viacom, AMC—you name it. It was a golden age for TV producers. We weren’t just riding the wave; we were power surfing the North Shore.
Then came the real disruptors.
Netflix leapfrogged broadcast. Streamers popped up like mushrooms after a storm. And the real juggernaut—YouTube—quietly took over the world.
Think I’m exaggerating? Media analyst Evan Shapiro has been mapping this industry shift for years. His data is as sharp as it is sobering. Cable is down more than 50%, and analysts predict that by 2028, only 27.1 million households will still have subscriptions. For context? In 2018, that number peaked at a whopping 93.4 million.
📉 That’s not a dip—it’s a free fall.
That’s an essay for another day (after a few bourbons and a long exhale).
Yes, it’s rough. Seeing an industry you’ve poured your soul into slowly unravel is gutting. Add to that the tens of thousands of creatives who are under- or unemployed, and it’s not just sad—it’s tragic. And no, I don’t cheer for anyone’s downfall. Livelihoods are at stake.
Whenever someone asks why TV is flailing, I flip the question:
“What are you watching these days?”
There’s always a pause. Then: “Well… reruns of Seinfeld, mostly.”
They shrug it off, assuming they’re not the “typical” viewer.
But they are.
Some of the most streamed shows are reruns. Grey’s Anatomy still slays the charts because new viewers binge old seasons and get hooked. Everyone assumed everyone else was watching all the buzzy new stuff.
Spoiler alert: they weren’t.
TV audiences crave comfort and familiarity. And when reruns of The Golden Girls bring the same viewership as a pricey new series starring a B-list celeb in a recycled plotline, guess which one gets greenlit?
💸 Business 101: maximize return on investment.
The decline wasn’t sudden—it was slow and sneaky. Cord-cutting, comfort-viewing, the YouTube vortex (more on that in Part 2), and a few other plot twists brought us here.
And yeah… it’s depressing. But here’s the twist.
If there’s one universal truth about creative professionals, it’s this:
We are resourceful, scrappy, and damn good at solving hard problems.
So no, this story isn’t over. Not by a long shot. Let’s roll up our sleeves and figure this thing out.
Let’s solve this damn problem. 💥
Stay tuned for Part 2. 🎬
Previously, on Shannon’s LinkedIn account… She laid it all out: the industry wave has crashed, a course correction is underway, and what lies ahead will look nothing like the last two decades of television. It’s a brave new media world—and not everyone’s ready for it.
She ended with this little nugget:
Depressing, eh? But ….. ALL IS NOT LOST.
If there is one absolute about creative professionals, we’re resourceful, scrappy, and damn good problem solvers.
So let’s solve this damn problem.
🧘🏾 Deep breath. Exhale. Again. Alrighty, time to flip the switch into producer mode. The one where we roll up our sleeves, side-eye the chaos, and say, “Alright, what’s the play?”
I mentioned YouTube in the last essay. Let’s revisit that, because in this tale of disruption, YouTube isn’t the sidekick—it’s the main character. Not Netflix. Not Amazon. Not even Apple. YouTube is the game changer.
Between 2020 and 2025, YouTube users grew from 661 million to 996 million — that’s a 35% jump 📈. For comparison:
Netflix: 300 million
Amazon: 200 million
Disney+: 124 million
➡️ YouTube has more than all of them combined.
So, what did YouTube do so well?
🌍 It gave creators a stage for their content to be seen all over the world.
🎨 It introduced audiences to a wild range of editorial + technical styles.
The first point is pretty self-explanatory. The second? It’s a bit more nuanced.
YouTube kicked the doors wide open to a whole new kind of storyteller. And I’ll admit it—I definitely used to side-eye the title ‘creator.’ I mean, I went to school for this! I’m a professional!
But these creators? They got it. They uncovered content that was appealing to viewers.
🎧 ASMR? A revelation.
🐶 Dog videos? Yes, please.
🤷🏽♀️ Weird kid crews who hang out together in some Mickey Mouse Club/Saved By The Bell hybrid? Um. Not my bag but if the kids are not exploited, then sure!
And for media execs? YouTube became a 24/7 free focus group, complete with comments and real-time analytics.
Another twist? These creators trained audiences to accept what we used to call “prosumer” quality. I was 54 years old when I learned that “pattern interrupts” is very appealing to social media users. Back in my day, that was a jump cut—and a no-no 🚫. But the audience has evolved. Just like Gen X was a lot more accepting of Homicide: Life on the Street’s shooting style while Boomers were clutching pearls.
We adapt. Then we excel. ✨
We adapt by creating our own content.
We use the tools we do have, and we create. We change our perspective and break the rules we’ve been following.
💡 Got a brilliant idea that’s too short for a full series? Make a mini-series.
⏱️ Who said every episode has to be 24 or 48 minutes?
🎙️ Want to make an archive-heavy doc but don’t have the footage? Create an audio episode.
Tell. Your. Story.
You don’t need the latest RED camera or a 10-person crew. I’m building an online class about documentary pitching and selling yourself like a TV show. I got stuck in gearhead mode—looking at lights, lenses, and studios—until a Zoomer reminded me that my iPhone was as good as most cameras, and the target audience likely wouldn’t care.
I rolled my eyes... then did the research. 🎯 He was right. I was overthinking it, clinging to the old rules.
Then? Lean into where you are already good at:
Structuring a compelling story 📚
Making things look good 🎨
Luring in an audience because you know what sticks 🎯
TV isn’t going anywhere. The Pitt and The Residence prove premium content still lands. True crime and investigation docs? Still pull great numbers DIY and cooking shows? Will always have an audience.
But the how of media consumption? That’s what’s shifting.
Broadcast panicked when cable came along. Now, cable’s sweating over internet content.
And us? We’re creators now—whether we like the word or not.
That’s the name of the game.
I recently gave a presentation about self-promotion at the Alexandria Community Co-Working Space. This is based on an online class I created called How to Sell Yourself Like A TV Show. Most of the attendees had recently been furloughed by recent government cuts.
The audience was, understandably, tense. They have been through so much sh*t the past few months. My goal was to offer some help in ways they can recognize how talented they are. ✨
One attendee challenged me about changing industries. He wanted to know why I never mentioned years of experience and whether it shouldn’t count for something. I told him that it absolutely counts for something, but should be recognized for accomplishments, not just duration.
If you’ve been in a job for 10 years, you should have a good track record to show for it. Highlight the hits! 🎯
He then asked me if I thought I could jump to healthcare as a project manager. I chuckled a little bit. I then told him how I had been certified as a project manager in the past year. The vernacular, I confessed, was different, but the overarching job and tasks were not. I had successfully managed budgets, teams, and deadlines. I had done the exact same thing in television. 🎬 ➡️ 🏥
Some laughs ensued, and I finished my presentation. Afterwards, he and I spoke, and I got his backstory. He was justifiably angry and frustrated after a career in public service—the idea of shifting to a new industry after such a commitment was crushing.
I get this. I’ve written about how the television industry is changing and how many of us need to adapt. I’m also Gen X and am not too fond of the idea that I must reinvent myself. I’m happy with the groove I’ve created. 😎
But just like the evolution of linear to non-linear editing, film to video, and producers to content creators, the workforce changes. And while it may be wholly unjustified and extremely unfair, it happens. 🔁
He and I talked later, and I found out his interests. It turns out he has a remarkable side business. We talked about what motivated him and then recommended some classes he could take—all free or very low cost. He initially balked, but I reminded him:
Knowing that you already are a badass is affirming and a huge ego boost. 💪 And adding to an already stellar slate of talents makes you even more of a badass. 🚀
Grow your badassery. Learning keeps your brain limber and makes you feel good about yourself. Go to Udemy, LinkedIn, and other platforms. The more you know—plus years of experience and problem-solving—make you awesome. 🧠✨
And be fully unapologetic about your badassery. You got this. 🔥
I wonder if it’s odd that one of my favorite musicals when I was growing up was Gypsy, the story of performer and stripper Gypsy Rose Lee. I’m sure this seems insane to parents today that a ten-year-old would sing You Got to Have a Gimmick around the house.
For those not familiar with this musical, watch it. Please. 🎬
I thought about this musical recently because I’ve been giving lectures and presentations for the past few weeks. I’ve talked about being a television producer, my time as a talent agent, and what it’s been like as a heavy person.
✨ One audience was joyous and celebratory.
⚡ Another audience was on edge and needed guidance.
💛 All were welcoming.
I am surprised at how much I enjoy doing this. For those who know me, I can be very introverted, although I confess, some of that may be more claustrophobia. I had to push myself out of my comfort zone and engage in small talk.
Me! Small talk! It is not a strong suit of mine. I survived and met some wonderful people along the way.
The joy I derive from this is helping people.
By sharing some of my experiences, I can boost those who may need it. For example, I recently presented to some parents and high schoolers about weight bias. I brought up the statistic that fat high school girls were 33% less likely to get accepted into college than their thin counterparts.
The parents were shocked, but more importantly, the students were, too. My goal wasn’t to scare them. It was to make them aware.
I ended it with encouragement, self-care, and confidence, and embracing the fierce bunny inside you. 🐰🔥
We all felt great afterwards.
This is new to me, although I have quietly mentored for my entire professional career. I was nervous about putting myself front and center. But with the help of friends, family, and others, I’m getting my footing. 👣
I’m not blowing a trumpet or dancing with fans but doing my own thing. 🎺🪭
Come. Join my musical revue. 🎤🌟
I’ve always been creative. At four years old, I decided my dad’s brand-new suit made the perfect canvas for poster paint (I was 4). Decades later, I still chase creative outlets—even if that means completely flopping in a mosaic art class last summer.
That same energy flows through my professional journey. I’ve never subscribed to the idea of staying in one job forever. The thought of doing the same thing for 40+ years? It’s foreign to me.
I started my career in staffing, working as an agent in a creative talent firm. Life then led me to television. Even in this space, I bounced around. I started as an editor and moved into producing. When I was tired of directing narration sessions, I transitioned into show development.
A colleague once joked that I get an itch every two to three years—and he wasn’t wrong. My creative curiosity is a constant invitation to explore new territory.
I believe we’re all multi-dimensional. We’re not meant to fit into a single box or stay stagnant. Exploration and reinvention are part of what makes us human.
So why am I sharing this?
Because people often ask me: “What does Padlin Creative actually do?”
The answer? It reflects me—my evolution, my passions, and my belief in reinvention. I’ve been very fortunate to have a successful career in different fields. The one constant is my desire to mentor people.
🖥️ A Television Production and Development Firm: It currently has one film in pre-production and two in development.
🎨 A Creative Consultancy: It provides strategic guidance to companies, freelancers, and individuals. This includes executive producing some projects.
🎤 A Workshop & Public Speaking Hub: It facilitates career development workshops across media, the natural world, and leadership tips. (Plus having fun!)
🔥 Home of the ‘Fully Unapologetic’ Movement: Through public speaking, one-on-one consultations, and workshops, it helps women become unapologetically confident and seen in professional spaces.
Whether you’re developing a show, pivoting your career, or trying to find your voice in the room—I’m here to help.
Remember: you are all the colors of the rainbow, and then some. 🌈
Never forget that.
When do you have me scheduled? Tomorrow? Uh…..ok! 😳
Whenever I talk about life in television, I tell people that you need to have multiple plans. Nothing can be perfectly planned for.
This is a constant in my life. A/V system malfunctions? Ok!
You need something last-minute? I can figure something out.
Would you like me to sing, although I wouldn’t recommend it? How’s Total Eclipse of the Heart?
I recently showed up for a gig and didn’t know what I was presenting until a few hours before the show. I had a flash of panic but told myself, what’s the worst that can happen?
Honestly, a lot can go wrong:
• Technical or communication issues
• Momentary brain cloud ☁️
• Random bra wire breaking free 😅
Yes. All of these have happened.
I usually can wrangle it back in. My mindset is that there is always a solution. If one approach doesn’t work, try another. Life is what you make of it…if it doesn’t fit, make alterations. ✂️ It’s so true, isn’t it?
We improvise all the time.
When you’re called into a meeting and asked to give an impromptu report, we improvise.
When we meet someone who may be a good client, we provide an off-the-cuff sales pitch.
When we send a blind email, we come up with something and take our shot.
It’s all thinking on the fly.
Improvising helps us be more productive. Let me explain. For people like me, doing the same thing over and over can be draining. We need little sparks to keep going.
So, finding ways to be agile helps us when things don’t go as planned. We don’t feel hemmed in by the rut; the challenge inspires us.
Find ways to work this into your professional life:
✔️ Revamp a monthly meeting to brainstorm ideas.
✔️ Practice new ways to sell your services.
✔️ Incorporate unexpected fun into the day.
It will help you pivot when needed.
And don’t ask me to sing Bonnie Tyler because I will. 😉
Hello, you whippersnappers!
Do I feel like I’m having a Walter Brennan moment? Does even mentioning Walter Brennan make me seem old for a Gen Xer?
Absolutely.
You know what. I’m comfortable right now with my ‘old woman waves fist at the sky’ persona.
JAWS is 50.
Both Prince and David Bowie are gone, plus Sly Stone and Brian Wilson.
They are rebooting LAND OF THE LOST, which may or may not be a good idea. (It was a hoot, but was it good?)
And someone just posted about how they didn’t know something that occurred in 2001 and I just shook my head. Was it related to Paul Reubens?
I’m not here to make you feel young. I’m here to say thanks.
Seriously. Thank you!
You’ve taught me a great deal and made me look at the world differently, especially in the workplace.
I used to believe that to get ahead, you needed to:
We weren’t as rigid as Baby Boomers, but we certainly were not blazing trails of rebellion.
For those who disagree, I would argue that FRIENDS was not groundbreaking in their depiction of the professional world.
Plus, poor Ayesha Taylor.
We were a generation that was told:
Be a good boy or girl, go to college, follow the rules, and you’ll get ahead.
What you guys showed is that:
You can retain your individuality and still strive for your goals.
You can and should call out bullshit when it happens.
And that mindless debt is not the solution to all of life’s problems.
I don’t think college is a scam. I wholeheartedly believe that it enhances critical thinking and essential life skills.
Is that woke? If you want to call it that.
It’s better than being a comatose zombie.
I look at Gen Z women these days, and I’m so proud of them.
They are fearless in a world that has proved to be pretty forking hostile to them.
The idea that women should compete with each other is hooey!
You go, girls! 🙌
I see many creative endeavors by Gen Z individuals who aren’t afraid to take risks.
Our world is a creator economy, a fantastic evolution of both artistic and economic industry.
We’re seeing that indeed, the revolution will not be televised.
You guys live life unapologetically.
Do you annoy me at times? Of course.
I’m Gen X, the most nay-saying generation of them all.
But I applaud your candid, free-spirited stance.
This is who I am.
It’s inspiring. It’s great to celebrate yourself, to have a personal brand, and promote what you are good at.
You’ve shown us that it’s best to be your own promoter and not wait for someone to do it for you.
For helping me look at work and life in a different light.
It’s truly been a breath of fresh air.
Sincerely–
A formerly cynical Gen-Xer
I recently attended a private screening of an independent documentary I’ve been assisting with. It’s been an honor to collaborate with such talented people, and to see their vision come to life on the big screen was pure joy.
We were mingling in the lobby after the viewing when someone called out my name. It was Bob, an old colleague of mine. We haven’t worked together in over two decades, but have followed each other’s careers via social media. He and his team had recently won an Emmy (deservedly so), so I was thrilled to congratulate him in person.
During my long drive home, I was reminiscing about our days back at Discovery on E/W Highway. I was new to television, cutting my teeth as an editor and jumping into producing. I had zero production experience, but I did have management and organizational credentials. And oh–a lot of moxie.
Producers like my colleague and so many others nurtured me, both directly and indirectly. Experience grew, and moxie became less relied upon.
I also met up with Sam, an old employee of mine. We worked together for about five years, and I watched him grow from a slightly nervous associate producer to a confident wildlife field producer and camera operator. It was a joy to see him. I harbored a small amount of pride at seeing him blossom, although in reality, my impact was minimal.
However, as I reflect on it, I’m not sure if the influence we give or receive is ever minimal. Just like Bob and countless others helped me improve and grow as a producer, I offered the same guidance to Sam and numerous others. There is an absolute joy in seeing someone thrive.
Do you or your organization think you don’t have the bandwidth to mentor? Don’t believe in all the ‘woo-woo’ benefits and only think of the bottom line?
Guess what. It helps your business grow.
Here is how a study at the University of California-Davis describes mentorship programs:
“Mentees have an opportunity to gain practical knowledge and insight from a seasoned employee who has achieved a level of expertise they aspire to attain. Mentors have an opportunity to expand their repertoire of professional knowledge and skills through their instruction and facilitation of others. The organization has the opportunity to further develop and disseminate the wealth of talent, skill and knowledge of its employees.”
Look at that last sentence: Employee retention equals less money spent on recruitment. Internal growth of employees means retention of institutional knowledge. It’s a win-win-win. ✅✅✅
You should celebrate everyone’s success. There are enough victories for all of us.
Every person who has mentored me — Bob, Theo, Jay, Kandy, Pamela, Gaynelle, Maureen, Ashley, etc. — is a cherished part of my narrative. I hope to pass that same support and guidance to countless others. It’s an honor to boost others to success. 🚀
To all those who mentor and receive guidance from others: Embrace these relationships. They are lasting and meaningful partnerships.
And if you don’t mentor — do it! Bring someone under your wing and support them as they flourish.
I happily pass a torch to the next generation of talent. I hope that the magic continues.
Hi. My name is Shannon, and I am a geek. This is no shock to anyone who knows me well. I have always enjoyed all the elements of a Comic Con, although I may not have outwardly expressed my love for them.
But ask me to quote Star Trek II: The Wrath of Khan?
“It’s the Genesis Wave.”
(A special wink to Bryan Reddish)
The original Ghostbusters?
“Nice doggie….good little pooch.”
Did I feel sorry for HAL?
Yeah. I did. 🤖
It took me decades to embrace my geek side. When I was a kid, I followed the beat of my own drum. My parents were baby boomers. I was the youngest of three, indirectly eight. Like most “babies of the family,” I embraced everything my older siblings liked.
If they liked New Wave music, I liked it.
If they liked Barry Manilow, you bet I was a Fanilow. (Still am, by the way.)
We were a Star Trek family. It didn’t occur to me until college that I had seen every episode of the original series. That made me a Trekkie—although I resisted the label for years. Sure, I had seen the original Star Wars movies in the theater, Quantum Leap was popular in our house, and to say I love The Simpsons is an understatement.
But I was not a geek. I was cool, hip, and … normal. Right?
I’ve mentioned before that I was bullied as a kid. I was heavy, dealt with some awful teenage acne, and lacked the sub-text filter. There was one girl on my sports teams who was relentless in her taunts. She was a tiny thing, and her best pal was tall—such a bully pair cliché.
I asked her once why she was so mean to me. She said (and I’m paraphrasing because this was over 40 years ago):
“I bully you because you are so different… you’re so odd and you don’t seem to realize it. You’re not normal.” 😕
It took years of self-reflection and therapy to realize that normal wasn’t all it’s cracked up to be. Not only that—what the hell does it mean to be normal?
I am a heavy woman who can quote baseball statistics as readily as reciting my favorite Bob’s Burgers lines. I love flowers and unusual jewelry. If it takes more than two hair products to tame my naturally frizzy hair, it’s not worth my time.
Normal is boring.
It sucks away your individuality. And it’s conforming to standards that are outdated, unscientific, sexist, and, in many cases, racist.
(I highly recommend the book Fearing the Black Body: The Racial Origins of Fat Phobia and the work of Danni Adams & Summer Innanen.)
It’s exhausting to try and fit social parameters that go against who you really are.
I’m not saying sociopathic behavior is ok; it’s not.
But if you enjoy comics, sci-fi movies, adult cartoons, and everything in between—embrace it! 🎭
Thanks to the influence of the Marvel and DC empire and Hollywood recognizing that real creativity can be found amongst the cosplay enthusiasts and weekly meetups sharing their favorite movie anecdotes...
Variety is the spice of life! 🌈
We should embrace our differences and be thankful that the world doesn’t look like some real-life Stepford Wives.
This year, I’m fully embracing my inner geekdom.
I am presenting at this year’s Atlanta Comic Convention. Believe it or not, I am more nervous about this than most other things I’ve done.
Why?
Because I’ve finally realized these are my people.
The people I want to be friends with.
The people who cheer on my love of Karl Urban.
The people who are creative, original, and care deeply.
So let’s do it.
“I’m ready for my close-up, Mr. deMille.”
I am off on my third business trip in a month. I am sitting in the American Airlines Admiral’s Lounge, enjoying a tolerable coffee and less tolerable scrambled eggs. My eyes are a bit puffy, and my legs ache from the unforgiving floors of the airport terminal.
And yet–I am happy.
My experience at Atlanta Comic Convention was transcendental. I remember the moment it hit me. It was Day 2, and I had already finished my panels. I was wandering the floor, absorbing all the sights and sounds around me. I stopped to see my dear friend Elara Dunn, a YA fantasy book writer and anti-bullying warrior. She was talking to a pair of teenagers, both of whom shared some experiences similar to some of the story points in her books.
I thought,
“this is so beautiful…a place where people of all shapes, sizes, backgrounds, abilities, and beliefs can gather and be embraced.”
I saw fairies, dragons, superheroes, demons, angels, witches, spirits, sidekicks, anime something-somethings, sprites, and everything in between. And I saw joy. Pure, unadulterated joy. 🧚✨
I started tearing up, so happy to not only be included in this event and be with my friend but also to be accepted. I belonged too! I, a 55-year-old emotional support auntie and fervent believer of all things goofy, was embraced by every ghoul, ghost, and Galadriel. What a beautiful world.
Absolutely. For one, very few people want to be in an environment where it’s work, work, work…moles and trolls, moles and trolls all the time. Poet William Cowper was correct when he wrote, “The Task” (1785):
“Variety is the very spice of life, That gives it all its flavor.”
Secondly, connecting with people with similar interests could open up job opportunities. I met a few aspiring documentary filmmakers whom I offered to assist on their projects. I also met a costume designer whom I’m likely to hire for an upcoming project.
Creativity can come from emotional experiences. What could be more inspirational than thousands of joyous fans, celebrating the fantastic and crazy possibilities our world has to offer?
Together we can express joy and wonderment. It’s inspiring and beautiful. And when used for good, it can change the world. 💖🌟
I remember when I first became aware of the cult of The Golden Girls. I was an associate producer at the Discovery Channel, and my colleague was quoting the show. I was a few years older than her and had never watched the show, so I was lost (which made me uncomfortable because I pride myself on my pop culture knowledge). She talked about how this was the one show she and her roommates watched every day in college.
I was stunned. I never thought the show was very good, but something about these older women connected with a slightly younger generation. I had One Life to Live — they had The Golden Girls. More power to them.
Flash forward to 2025. I’m talking to my gym trainer about what new shows we’ve been watching. We compare notes on the latest true crime series (that stepmother is cray-cray) and binge-worthy programs (I joined the Resident Alien team a little too late). He then mentioned that his go-to comfort viewing is The Golden Girls.
Here it is again! Blanche, Rose, Dorothy, and Sophia! ✨
I asked him, between goblin squats and TRX pull-ups, what was so appealing about the series. He said it was familiar and fun. It took him away from his daily troubles. Those four sassy women made the world feel less… well, less.
I understood what he was saying. I have a regular rotation of familiar programs: Arrested Development, The Simpsons, The Great North, and—my absolute favorite—Bob’s Burgers.
How often do I watch the Belcher family? I told myself the entire “Flu-oise” episode during a 20+ minute neck CT scan. 🧠📺
So why are reruns of old shows like Grey’s Anatomy, Suits, The Big Bang Theory, and The Golden Girls so appealing?
There is science behind it. Numerous studies show that watching favorite shows on repeat fills many emotional and psychological needs. Researchers Russell and Levy concluded that:
Nobody questions when we listen to an album or a song repeatedly. And people revisit novels all the time. Why should television programming be any different?
It is different because streaming provides on-demand access to our comfort shows.
No longer do you have to run home from school to catch The Brady Bunch on Channel 20. You don’t have to schedule your lunch around Days of Our Lives. And you no longer have to lug your DVD catalog around everywhere.
Streaming delivers the drug right to you—anytime you want. 📲
The overwhelming majority of top streaming shows are reruns. Check out this list from USA Today—only two programs are new. Each series has a catalog of 30+ episodes. That’s a lot of time to zone out, feel comfort, and bask in the familiar.
I make long-form non-fiction shows that are unlikely to have the same appeal as a Sophia zinger. I also don’t create incredible content like highlight reels of children in small cars running over their parents. I can’t compete with that!
But I am a creator. I make programs that have an audience. And I’m not competing with The Office. They’re pizza; I’m artisanal beef jerky. 🧀🍕
I am competing with new narrative techniques, technology, and how we consume content. Like most creative forms, I have to adapt. I have to capture the viewer’s attention and keep them. I have to make them care.
So bravo to the longevity of The Golden Girls, Grey’s Anatomy, The Office, and all the other comfort shows.
I know Bob, Linda, Tina, Gene, and Louise bring me joy—no matter how many times I watch it.
And to that, I say: “Alright!!!”
