James Gunn, director, mischief-maker, and one of the few people keeping the DC cinematic universe from fully imploding, recently said something that smacked me right in my over-caffeinated frontal lobe:

“The movie industry is dying… because people are making movies without a finished screenplay.”

Mic. Drop.

Now, I know I usually muse about dogs who might be secret FBI agents or the lingering existential pain of airport security lines, but this one? This one hit different.

Because it’s not just the movie biz. It’s everything. Everywhere. All at once. (A better movie, btw, because it had a script.)

We are knee-deep in a society obsessed with jumping the gun (no pun intended, James), launching big flashy projects based on vibes and vaporware instead of finished plans. We romanticize the hustle, glorify the “figure it out later,” and worship at the altar of winging it. The problem is, when you wing it with no plan, what you often end up with isn’t flight, it’s a crash. With glitter.

I get it. We’re all tired. We want something to happen. And sometimes a little chaos is magic. But increasingly, I’m seeing it everywhere: nonprofit programs announced with no staffing; tech apps in beta that stay beta forever; people launching whole businesses because Mercury whispered “go for it” during retrograde.

And look, I’m not here to bash dreams. I love a good Hail Mary. But friends, we can’t keep mistaking motion for momentum.

James Gunn pulled the plug on a project that had buzz, budget, and greenlights because the script wasn’t ready. That’s called restraint. Discipline. Artistic integrity. Or in regular-people speak: “Do not serve the lasagna before it’s cooked unless you want lawsuits and salmonella.”

This is why I triple-check my presentations. Why I rewrite my reports even when I want to throw my laptop into the Hudson. Why I stopped mid-way through launching a new venture (ahem) because I realized I needed a real strategic plan, not just a logo and a dream.

So let’s stop treating half-baked as haute cuisine. Let’s stop putting ideas in the oven and yanking them out the moment they get a little warm. Let’s do the work. Write the damn script. Get feedback. Rewrite. Rest. Re-imagine. And then, only then, hit record.

Because the world doesn’t need more shaky, shaky iPhone verticals pretending to be epics. It needs your real story, told fully and fiercely.

And yes, you can still eat half-baked cookie dough. But only after you finish the screenplay.