What if surviving 2025 wasn’t the point?
- Daniel Beals
- Dec 29, 2025
- 3 min read
Like a mirage in the desert that you can barely recollect, somewhere along the way (maybe early summer, maybe late spring), “directionless” stopped being a feeling and became a subtitle for creativity.
Film. TV. Writing. Design. Music. Whatever corner of the creative landscape you call home, 2025 was supposed to be the year we made it through like phoenixes.
For those of us in film specifically, after strikes, COVID, and tech bros gutting entire departments like clearing a chessboard, we were handed a slogan like a life vest:
“Survive ’Til ’25.”
Well. We did. And looking back, it's evident that we were all more than a little bamboozled. As if the finish line was just a date on a calendar — and once we crossed it, everything would magically reset.
Spoiler: it didn’t.
If this year felt quieter — less output, more doubt — you’re not alone. I came out of a productive, inspiring 2024 firing on all cylinders, tossing my indie thriller script, The Crimson Pool, at every producer of comparable films I could find. Results varied, but all in all, can't say as I didn't move the needle. I know it hasn't been great for many of us. The industry is just… different now. No one's making mid-budget thrillers the likes of which film giants such as Adrian Lyne and Curtis Hanson used to deliver. That's okay. That's why we have to develop multiple things at once.
Building Bealsebub took grit and ignition, but 2025 felt more like protecting embers than feeding flames. Sometimes, that’s all you can do. That work still matters.
No experience is ever a total wash. What 2025 Taught Me:
1. Productivity ≠ progress. I may not have finished everything, but I didn’t quit. If you didn’t quit either, take a breath. That counts.
2. Creativity isn’t a faucet. You can’t force output during instability. You can only stay ready — even on days your brain refuses to cooperate. #neurospicy
3. Direction isn’t gifted — it’s built. The path rarely announces itself. Breakthroughs usually start in obscurity, or on the day you almost didn’t show up. Consistency is the only weapon that matters.
Surviving ’til 2025 was never the victory. Enduring the uncertainty was. And beneath the fatigue, something else formed: resilience, taste, discipline, readiness. I hope it's the same for you.
Where We Go From Here
We stop waiting for an external “greenlight.” We create momentum ourselves. Or, as Jerrica Long puts it: Greenlight Yourself.
For me, 2026 is already taking shape in small, quietly powerful ways: new scripts in various mediums on the horizon (sign up for this blog — you won’t want to miss that announcement).
Harness Your Fire was never about relentless output. It’s about choosing to engage the spark, again and again, even when it flickers. People ask me what keeps me going, what Bealsebub is at its core.
It’s perseverance.
Perseverance is key. That’s my motto.
So, what now? Take my hand. We got this.
Survive ’Til ’25 was bullshit. We knew it, even when it was lobbed at us. That storm is behind us. Now it’s time to create a storm all our own — fueled by curiosity, discipline, and fire we choose to keep alive.
For my cinema family (and all creatives navigating uncertainty), we're forging a new slogan!
By whatever means you're able to. No more asking for permission. You have a story to tell, a comic to draw, music to make, anything?? Great! Get creative. Call your friends and get messy.
Here’s to 2026 — a year of self-momentum, reclaimed direction, and flames we feed with purpose and community.
Harness your fire.
If you’re ready to greenlight yourself in 2026, hit subscribe, and pass this to one person who needs a spark.
Hit up the comments and let everyone know how your year went and what you have planned for the year ahead. It’s a good bet you’ll find that you are not alone.
Comments