... to throw a film screening. There's a strange feeling in the pit of my stomach, and I suspect Pret A Manger isn't to blame.
Tonight, the short film Look At Me (written by me, directed by Dan Turner) will be shown in High Definition, in a Soho screening room. And people will be watching it.
This feeling in my stomach isn't down to a fear of people liking/disliking the film. I know Look At Me mightn't be to everyone's taste. But I also know it's a fine, quality piece of work, and am incredibly, incredibly proud to have it as my first produced credit.
So this feeling is more the kind of thing you feel when you're throwing a party (although the amazing folks at Magician Pictures are actually doing the throwing). Worries about whether people will have a good time, and feel it worth their journey. People are, after all, coming from places like Cheltenham and Brighton to see this film. Worries about forgetting someone's name when you have to introduce them. All that social stuff, y'know?
So then, Arnopp. Deep breath. Relaxation. Big smile. Look in the mirror and pretend to be a ninja, just like you do, first thing every morning.
Ahem. Am I still writing?