What happens when a TV critic makes the leap from the page to the screen? Do you become part of the very thing you pull to bits or do you become an enemy on the inside?

The lure of television is a very seductive one. TV, like no other format, gets you in the consciousness of the nation without much effort. You land, immediate, there. No reading or thinking is required. Man! I'd love to get on the box! I could get involved in intelligent debate and people would, y'know... actually listen! Of course, that isn't strictly true because, as soon as the leap is made, you become fair game for other writers like me. Not only that, edits can make you look like an idiot and worse still, you end up believing your own hype (I'm looking at you Garry Bushell).

In this line of work, I find that all the best writers are the ones who constantly tell themselves how rubbish they are. Every single word I type feels like it could be my last. The second I start believing that I'm worthy of this job is the time when I start to think that my opinion is worth more than my readers. Of course, that way of thinking turns you into one of those horrendous media types who was so rightly lampooned in Nathan Barley.

So why am I talking about all this? Well, yesterday I had a chat with someone from a TV company who wanted my views on some shows. Of course, I was only to happy to oblige. Ranting comes easy to me. The result of this conversation got me thinking about following in the footsteps of, say, Paul Morley and Charlie Brooker who have made the leap from page to screen without to much credibility lost. Hell, if someone should ask me (in the future as I'm a nobody still) why shouldn't I go for it? As long as a keep in mind that I'm no better than people who aren't fortunate enough to be asked. It wouldn't be because I'm special. It would be down to the fact that I'm jammy. So, with that, I'm staying on the living room side of the TV screen until someone seduces me into making the leap...