We’re Not in Kansas Anymore - or shit gets real.

The screen hums, a low comforting drone - my new late-night lullaby. And somewhere between the third rewrite and the cold dregs of midnight coffee, the realisation lands.

It’s time.

Time to stop tweaking, second-guessing, circling the thing like it might bite.

Time to let it go. Out of your hands. Out into the world.

Your idea.

Your story.

That spark you've been carrying like a secret flame.

Hello there, welcome back.

Welcome to Late Night Musings with

Rogues and Scoundrels.

For a long time, it’s safe. Tucked into folders, living behind passwords, known only to your notes app and maybe one trusted friend you cornered over wine.

But now…now we’re putting it out there.

And it’s terrifying.

Because once it leaves the sanctity of your screen, it becomes something else.

It’s no longer the perfect thing you imagined in the shower or rewrote in your head at traffic lights. It’s a draft in someone else’s hands. An idea seen through someone else’s eyes.

And suddenly, the doubts come crashing in:

Did I make sense? Did it translate? Is what’s in my head now in yours?

Will you get it?

Will you care?

And the loudest one: What if you don’t like it?

But here’s the quieter, more dangerous question: What if you do?

What if you see what we see?

What if the spark catches?

What if this idea, this messy, raw, daring thing - becomes ours, not just mine?

When a project moves from the privacy of creation into the public eye, everything shifts.

What was once a quiet conversation between you and the page becomes a spotlight moment - naked, blinking, and open to scrutiny.

No longer protected by drafts and doubt, the work stands alone, visible and vulnerable.

It's no longer just yours, it’s held up to be seen, questioned, misunderstood or maybe, deeply felt.

And that’s the risk we take.

So, this is us, stepping out, preparing for deadlines, preparing for the onslaught of competition, preparing for potential pain.

But the possibility of buy-in?

That’s the high we’re chasing as we roll over and present our pale underbellies, offering presented with bowed head for approval and promise.

Delivering up our rawest selves, hearts thudding in open palms, hoping you’ll see the spark and not the cracks.

We’ve got worlds to build, voices to amplify, and ideas that won’t sit quietly anymore.

Whether it’s a boy slipping into the grey, a woman escaping a blood-soaked institution or a child meeting a spaceman in a suit five stories tall - we’re telling the stories that have haunted us, healed us and dared us to keep going.

It’s not perfect. But it’s personal.

And that’s the point.

So, we’re strapping on our armour and getting ready to dance. The tornado is coming to take us to Oz. Who knows, maybe there will be something in that bag for us after all?

Only time will tell…