Whenever the Winter Olympics are on, I always think of my own experience at the 2002 Winter Olympics in Salt Lake City. Never in my life did I think I would make over 200 television appearances reporting on a figure skating scandal that rocked the sport to such a degree that not only were the rules changed, but a second Olympic gold medal was awarded in the pairs event. Sadly, those events led to a gradual decline in the sport’s popularity.

Thankfully, there has been a resurgence, and popularity has returned, albeit in a different form. What used to be measured solely in television viewership now has global social media platforms to exponentially increase engagement. For good or ill, that’s where not only figure skating is, but all forms of entertainment. While embracing it is paramount to yield positive returns, it can also quickly obliterate those gains from a single post. That is the new world we live in. If you are a personality of any degree, it’s these currents in attention that need to be navigated.

A few days ago, we witnessed what happened to Ilia Malinin in the free skate. It was one of those moments in figure skating history that will be talked about for decades to come. I can only compare Malinin’s situation to Randy Gardner‘s (paired with Tai Babilonia) at the 1980 Winter Olympics, when he had to withdraw from competition due to an injury. In both cases, each skater was favored to win in their category. For Gardner, it was physical injury; for Malinin, it was something else. Whatever it was, or wasn’t, it isn’t up to others to decide or speculate (we all see the armchair experts offer their worthless two cents).

But what I witnessed with Malinin after his skate was, at the very end of the day, far more important than any on-ice performance—good sportsmanship. Moments after Malinin received his scores and realized that Mikhail Shaidorov won the men’s event, he went over to embrace and congratulate him. In his moment of defeat, Malinin pivoted to demonstrate the true meaning of the Olympic Games—global unity. In a time of divisive everything, Malinin represented that while he may have been at his absolute lowest for himself, he climbed the highest peak for another with a singular act of selflessness.  

Staying in the world of figure skating, Serpentine: A Cold War on Ice, won 2nd Best Feature Script at the 1^st Monthly Film Festival last week. The script was also elevated to Quarter Finalist for Best Screenplay at the LA Live Film Festival. These early accolades are most welcome, as the FilmFreeway promotion to alert festivals about the availability of Serpentine will be announced in just over a week.

Speaking of screenplays, now that Serpentine is making the rounds, I’ve started to revisit the First World Universe.  This “universe” that began with my first screenplay, First World, in 2006, has greatly expanded since I originally inked that story. At that time, I simply envisioned it as a one-off. But when I wrote and produced First Signal as a prequel, then wrote First Report and First Launch as sequels that lead up to First World, it didn’t take me long to realize that a major overhaul was needed.

I last read First World and a file cabinet of notes several years ago, to construct First Signal. At that time, I didn’t think that I would come up with ideas to continue the story, but as those stories materialized, it quickly became apparent that First World, in its present form, is not only obsolete, but simply won’t fit in the puzzle of the new First World Universe. It is true that when you put down a story for a while and revisit it later, new and better ideas emerge to make it a stronger one—at least I hope so!

New worlds.