Guillermo Gómez 1D AGO

I built an episode with the wrong voice. It was not a bad take; it was the voice of a different project entirely—a narrator I had cloned for another series months earlier. Nothing in my files identified which voice belonged to which show, so the assistant picked the one it had seen most recently. I did not catch the mistake until the mix. That is what working with agents on anything long actually costs you: not bad output, but amnesia. Every session starts cold, so settled decisions get reopened, undocumented rules get broken, and the same argument returns every week wearing a different hat. I run several short-form historical and science-fiction series at once, and they all survive on one file each. It is not documentation or a spec. It is what film crews have used for a century: a series bible combined with a daily production report, pointed at an agent instead of a hundred people. I use one Markdown file, read at the start of every session and updated when the session closes rather than when it opens. Four sections do the work: Step-by-step: 1. Closed canon: Each decision includes its reason. Mine says the opening shot is never a contemplative establishing shot. It opens mid-action, with the text hook on screen by the first second, and the beautiful wide shot comes second as the breather. I write the reason next to the decision because the plan for the current episode came back with that wide shot opening the sequence, and I had to reorder it again. The decision alone stops nothing; the reason keeps the rejected version from returning. 2. Rejected list: I record what was already tried and exactly why it was dropped. The wrong voice lives here now as one line: never reuse assets across projects without confirming. This is half the value of the document, and it is the half almost nobody writes. 3. State table: I track each item, its known defects, and the decision already made about it. Mine currently reads: lips at 62.5 to 63.5 seconds, native voice at 64.1 to 65.6, voice moved forward and the original position ducked. A defect written down with its fix is an instruction. A defect nobody records is work you pay for twice. 4. Next three actions: I list concrete next steps, each naming the file it touches. Never “keep going.” Step-by-step: 1. Create `HANDOFF.md` at the root of the project before any real work starts. 2. Write the goal, deadline, and delivery constraints. Anything external that forces your hand goes here instead of staying in your head. 3. Add every consequential decision to the canon, along with its reason and what broke with the alternative. 4. Whenever something is tried and rejected, add a row to the rejected table. It takes fifteen seconds and can save an afternoon. 5. Maintain a state table of the real items, including their defects and agreed fixes. 6. Close every session by updating only three things: the state, the new rejections, and the next three actions. 7. Open every session with: “Read `HANDOFF.md` in full before proposing anything. The canon and rejected list are not up for discussion. Verify the real state against the files, then tell me where we are in two lines.” The discipline that makes this work is updating the file when you close a session, not when you open one. At the end of a session, you still remember why you made the decisions. The next morning, you do not—and neither does the agent. The template is at the bottom. It costs nothing and it is a text file.