Well, my loves. So my show True Love didn’t get a pilot order. I know. I know. I found out a few weeks ago. It was brutal. We (my, the director Anne Fletcher, the producers Fabrik) spent five months together, writing it and rewriting it and rewriting it and pretend-casting it and moodboarding it and dreaming about it and you know, everything else.

This was me for a few days after:

Poor little True Love. I was supersad. I didn’t cry – hello, no one died, let’s keep shit in perspective – but I lay very still and closed my eyes for quite a long time. I loved every second of developing it. And it got all the way to the end. The network ordered 60 pilot scripts back in October, and I was one of the last to get cut. (This is slightly like being one of the last people to not make the Olympic team, and who gives a damn about that person? But it is strangely comforting.)

It’s not completely dead. Sometimes networks buy other network’s unordered pilots. Fox developed Law & Order, then decided not to make it, so CBS picked it up. (Big mistake, Fox. Big. Huge.) There might be room in the world for a funny, optimistic little dramedy anthology about grown-up, fucked-up fairytales. But then again, there might not be… In the meantime, I’m writing new things. You know how they say the best way to get over someone is to get under someone else? It’s like that. But with stories.