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Wisdoms, Words and Worlds

Musings on writing and using words

I have this disease called… DEBBIE.

September 29, 2019

Ass Sagging Prevention - New York style

So this blog is a bit more personal than what you’re used to. Since I talk a lot about how as a writer, it’s important to write from the heart and be authentic, I thought I would actually put my money where my mouth is (and against some recent advice). But I want to be more open and I want to talk about this stuff. Because to me, this is where the good writing comes from. From being able to talk about the hard stuff in a palatable way.

So I have this disease called… DEBBIE. Debbie Downer. You might know her as depression. I’ve given her a name because I’m beginning to understand that even though she feels like she’s part of me, and even though she feels real, she’s not. She’s not real and not a part of me at all. In my 20s, she was a fairly consistent presence in my life, but in the past 20 years or so – particularly since I stopped drinking – she’s been rather quiet and well behaved. Up until the last few months or so that is. Then she came back into my life with an unexpected vengeance.

Debbie likes to live behind my right orbital socket, just behind my temple. She likes to distort my perception of reality by telling me things like, “I should have done a better job”, “I’m not worth being paid for work”, “I’m not a good friend”, “I’m not that funny”, “I can’t write at all”, “I’m not worth paying for writing”. She is a constant voice in my head that takes the small negative inklings and amplifies them to LOUD SHOUTING level, overwhelming my rational brain and drowning out any positive reinforcement I receive from the outside world.

So powerful is my Debbie, that she can even take any positive reinforcement (no matter how strong) and twist it into a negative. To: “Jo, thank you so much for fixing that problem for me”, Debbie will reply, “Yeah, but Jo why the hell didn’t you spot that earlier and fix it months ago, you moron?”. Nothing good you have to say to me, will ever be taken at face value by Debbie. In my 20s, she took me to some dark and scary and painful places that took me a long time to crawl out of. In fact for a good six months, I didn’t know she was there at all. I thought I was just doing terribly at everything I did. She’s dark. Twisted. Insidious. And very, very, clever.

Drowning out Debbie is exhausting. My rational brain doesn’t have the strength to shout her down without professional help. Self-medicating is also not an option for me. So I’ve had to learn other methods to deal with her. One of the first things I did was give her a name. (And please if you are a real dear friend of mine called Debbie or Debra, please know this isn’t personal, YOU are not a downer). In recovery, one is often told to name their disease. I took it literally. Giving my depression a name has helped me distance myself from it and draw a more defined line between what’s real and what’s not. Like I said, she feels very real. She seems very real. And the way she makes me feel is very real. The things she tells me are not.

So now I talk to my depression. I tell her things like, “I know that’s how you see it, Debbie, but let’s take a step back and see how it really is. Jo, if you were really so lousy at what you do, would people still be hiring you? If you were such a bad friend, would anyone bother calling you?”. And then I practice mindfulness. I acknowledge that right now at this present moment I am feeling overwhelmed/teary/sad/however. Then I say to myself, “Okay, that’s how you feel. It’s okay to feel this way. Let’s just put this to the left side of our brain and go on with our days as best we can, okay?”.

My self-talk is my biggest enemy, so what I try to do now is talk to myself as if I was a good friend. Instead of beating myself up for perceived failures, not doing good enough, and not feeling good enough to do better, I acknowledge and accept the present. I try to avoid telling myself (and Debbie) how I should be feeling. Telling myself how I should be feeling and beating myself up for not being able to function better, only makes it worse. When I look back on how bad Debbie has beaten me down in the past, the fact that I’ve been able to function at all is a miracle in itself.

I’ve also sought help. My stepfather always said the world would be a better place if everyone had therapy and a massage once a week. And he’s right. Debbie exists in a vacuum. She’s much less vocal when I talk about her others and share my experiences – which is completely counter intuitive.

I meditate (I hate admitting this out loud, it always sounds wanky to me but there I admit it, I meditate. It helps me stay centered and focus). I exercise (the bare minimum. I hate the gym. I only go to stop my ass sagging). I eat pretty healthy (except for when I don’t).

And gradually, Debbie is becoming less vocal and less powerful. I doubt she’ll ever go away for good, but she is definitely not a persistent part of my life anymore.

So what does all of this have to do with writing? So the positive thing about Debbie is that this has given me some understanding of a mental illness and how it impacts individuals and those close to them. It gives me more empathy towards others who are fighting similar battles (and the tragedy of those who lost to it). It gives me more to draw from and channel into my writing. And I hope that when I write scenes or stories involving characters who are struggling with an issue themselves, that it will sound authentic and resonate with those who are reading.

And, very selfishly, writing about Debbie and sharing about Debbie is also cathartic.

Anyway, if this did resonate with you, feel free to reach out to me.

I’m going for some ass sagging prevention now.

Just bleed.

August 10, 2019

Are we bleeding yet?

“Writing Is Easy; You Just Open a Vein and Bleed” – Red Smith

Just bleed. Dig deep. Give that uncomfortable conversation you never had to your characters. Make your main character yell that painful, honest truth that you’ve never had the courage to say out loud. Bare your soul on the page. Go deep. Be fearless. Doesn’t have to be depressing. Doesn’t have to be serious. The deepest darkest truths can actually be hilarious when you put them on a page and give them to a quirky character to speak. Yes, bleeding your heart out over your keys is difficult. But this is where the universal truth of writing comes from. This is why I write.

IRL I’m kinda funny. Quirky. People tend to view me as someone who’s witty, upbeat, who has their shit together and is relatively stable (apart from my mildly unhealthy Star Wars obsession). I don’t often get emotional and lose my cool. That said, I do feel things. I have all the feels and unlike many people, I don’t have the ability to use the usual tools to drown them (like booze or Xanax). I have to do things – like sit with them. And fricking meditate. Anyway, I digress. The thing is, I wasn’t one to share my feelings openly. And as a result, for a long time, people found it hard to get to know me and vice versa. I thought the way I felt and viewed the world was entirely unique, and I felt very lonely. Then this thing happened. I took what I felt and how I saw things and I started writing.

And eventually this got layered into a story that became a script. And I showed it to the world. And this weird thing started to happen – first with friends and family and then with incredibly smart, talented people in various production companies and agencies – people related to my script and started to share their own very personal experiences with me. I discovered my feelings were actually universal. By putting a bit of my blood on the page, I’d (without realizing it) given other people a chance to open up too and helped them feel a bit less lonely. I’d given us both a bit of validation. And I suddenly felt a little less crazy in this crazy world. It was/is such a gift. (This is not to say that I think my writing is life changing or anything, I’m just pointing out that by me being vulnerable through my writing, I’d unwittingly allowed other people to be vulnerable too).

Truth be told, I don’t get people who say writing is easy. To me, it might start that way. And then it gets hard. Is this scene boring? What is this character struggling with? What does she/he really want to say but doesn’t? I also have this tendency that I’ve only just become aware of to subconsciously break dark moments with humor instead of letting them play out. Truth be told, I’ve been doing this my whole life. Then there’s structure – it’s vital. You gotta have it. But you gotta make the script refreshing enough that it’s entertaining and surprising, but not so out there that you literally don’t lose the plot. That stuff right there, is hard enough. Now layer in characters that need to be real and relatable – complexity, themes, etc. It just gets harder. But like most things in life, the hard stuff is the most rewarding. And that’s why you/I need to bleed. That’s where the good stuff is. Consider this blog the leech-pin to good writing. So stick a knife in your fingers and start bleeding…

How are your characters feeling?

July 23, 2019

To me, how your characters are feeling – the emotional core of their journey – is just as important as structure, if not more. It’s the heart and soul of any script or story, the main driver for our characters, and what motivates them into action. In broad strokes: characters feel things, and in order to change the things they feel strongly about (or the situation that causes their strong feelings), they take actions, which have consequences, which result in personal growth, a change in outcome or a change in how they feel. Just like us, really.

In classic Westerns, our hero is motivated to go on a quest to seek bloody revenge as a result of some sort of devastating personal loss – the brutal death of their wife/brother/sister/father/mother etc. Their emotional core is anger/betrayal/grief. And it drives them ever onwards into darker and bloodier confrontations. In Aliens, Ripley feels a strong maternal bond for Newt, so she takes on the aliens, risking her life to save her (and her crew). In Star Wars, Luke Skywalker is bored with rural farming, and then despondent after the death of his Aunt and Uncle, so he agrees to go on a quest with Obi-Wan Kenobi.

What I’m really getting at here, is what actually motivates the character to act in the first place? What feelings are they having that motivates them to take x, y or z action and what are the consequences? How do they feel about the consequences? For me, what makes a compelling story is understanding how a character feels in each scene. Even if I don’t agree with their behavior or particularly like the character, being able to understand where they’re coming from is important if I’m to be able to engage with their story at all.

Adding another level, sometimes what makes a scene even more compelling is watching a character struggling to take action in spite of how they feel (something we all have to do on a daily basis). One of my favorite examples of this, is Love Actually. Emma Thompson’s character sneakily opens a jewelry box in her husband’s coat to find a gold necklace. She’s excited and touched – convinced he’s finally giving her the romantic Christmas present she’s always hoped for. But later, under the Christmas tree, he hands her a similar shaped box, which she excitedly opens to reveal… a Joni Mitchell CD. And her face falls. In the bedroom, behind closed doors, she fights back tears, before she pulls herself together and re-joins her family in the living room, hiding her breaking heart from her children with big hugs and smiles.

Her obvious struggle to appear happy and grateful, against her realization that her husband is likely having an affair and the gold necklace is intended for someone else, is highly emotional and compelling. The fact she’s fighting down her true feelings of sadness, raises the stakes and makes the scenes even more dramatic. These scenes also remind me that moments don’t have to be BIG and LOUD to be impactful, emotional and dramatic. Sometimes the most drama comes from seeing a character fight their true feelings and hide it from the people around them. Watching someone on screen trying not to cry, can be much more compelling than watching someone just all-out sobbing – their own internal struggle adding another layer of tension.

(Love Actually is actually one of my favorite films for this reason – I understand and know how each character is feeling in every scene.)

Personally, when I first start breaking a story, I start with the emotional core or journey of the main character. Where are they at the start? What do they want? How do they get it? And what do they get at the end? In really broad strokes, I assign it to an act and sort of overlay a structure. E.g: They feel out of place => they want to fit in => they do a, b or c => d, e and f, h, i and j gets thrown in, but eventually they find w, x, y and feel z.

When I get to the scene writing/breaking stage, I’m always asking myself: How does the character feel about what’s going on in this scene? What are they going to do about it? I know we like to believe us humans are practical and logical creatures, but the truth is we are often driven by our emotions (whether we realize it or not). For my characters to be more realistic and relatable, they have to be human too. So that means they need to have emotions and be motivated by them as much as we are.

It’s very easy when writing to get into the “and then she does this” and “then this happens” and to have a story driven by plot. Plot is essential, don’t get me wrong, but if the plot isn’t driven by the character’s motivations and their underlying emotions, then it can feel a bit contrived. You know, kind of cookie-cutter-paint-by-numbers, formulaic. It won’t be as engaging. Sometimes when I’m stuck, if I focus on what the character’s feeling in a particular scene, this will often lead to what they would do, which will help unlock a new and more natural way to drive the plot forward – other than what I might have already outlined.

So, how do you and your characters feel about that?

Writing Process and Habits

Writing Process and Habits

June 18, 2019

People often ask me what makes me a writer. Which I guess is their way of asking what separates me from that person who props up a bar in WeHo every weekday happy hour, talking about the hot project they’ve got “in development” that a producer (who happens to be their best friend since high school) is interested in. The project they’ve been writing for five years but haven’t quite got around to finishing yet… The truth is, that was me a while ago. I drank expensive cocktails in cozy, plush bars tucked in trendy Melbourne alleys and told anyone who’d listen about my AWESOME ideas, while I mentally rehearsed my Oscar speech (it gets longer every year). But most of the time, I was having too much fun, was too hungover or didn’t feel like writing, so I didn’t actually write. At all. I was always waiting for inspiration to strike. And it rarely really did. Never enough to the point I’d actually write anyway.

That’s not to say I don’t have fun these days. I have a lot of fun. And now that I don’t drink like I used to, I not only wake up with a relatively clear head, but I have the added bonus of actually remembering exactly what and how much fun I had the night before. I digress. What makes me a writer – a real one, rather than someone who just talks about writing – is that I actually write. Every day. No matter what. That is my personal rule. Some days I write for hours. Some days it’s been less than 5 minutes, but I have written every day. No matter what. I was once on a camping trip, where we had stayed up talking around the campfire until 2 in the morning. I was about to drift off to sleep when I remembered I hadn’t written that day. So I wriggled out of my sleeping bag as quickly as I could and grabbed my laptop (which I might as well have surgically attached to my hip for convenience). I mostly have the doc I’m working on open for easy access. I think I probably changed two words and maybe added a sentence before I crashed – but I still wrote. I have written on the days of funerals, on days when I have not slept, when I have been sick. I think I have probably missed maybe 2 or 3 days of writing in the past year for various circumstances, but I have been fairly consistent.

As a result of all this continually writing every day, I have written and sold a feature, finished 2 pilots, had another feature optioned and am now working on a fictional podcast and another feature. Honestly, I rarely feel like writing. I will find myself procrastinating (right now for example, it’s 8:30pm on a Sunday night, I’ve had all day, the house is sparkling clean, there’s a roast in the slow cooker, I’ve watched 2 movies and I’ve only just sat down to write). I definitely wouldn’t have finished ANYTHING if I didn’t have the Freedom App, which completely locks me out of the internet for a chosen period of time. It’s funny because I didn’t realize I was actually flicking on to Facebook almost sub-consciously.  The minute I got stuck on a sentence or was searching for a word, I’d click away. Without even noticing. It would take Firefox proclaiming “Page not found” before I’d realize I’d even clicked off Final Draft (if I was researching, I would have to research on my phone). Most of the time though, once I get rolling, writing isn’t so bad. I mean it is hard. It does take work. And effort. The things that are worthwhile always do. I think it was John August who said he hated writing but loved having written. But that’s why I do it every day. Because the more I do, the more it becomes habit and less work. Like brushing your teeth. It’s just something you do without really thinking about it. And I’ve tricked my brain a bit too. “Just write for 5 minutes”, I tell myself. And then I get on a roll and it’s 4 hours later. I’m also less scared of getting stuck now. I can put myself through that excruciating torture of not really having a good answer to “what happens next” or “how they get out of that one” if I know it’s only going to be for 5 minutes and I don’t have to solve it all right then and there.

But me, as a writer (and well everyone really), still needs to have fun. I still need to get out and talk to people – people’s experiences, mannerisms and personalities are where I get a lot of inspiration from. So sometimes that means actually putting on pants and leaving the house and going to socialize. And sometimes this even inadvertently leads to actually having fun. I highly recommend having fun, even though it often takes effort (particularly in LA where it usually involves traffic). But my point is, after you have fun (or maybe even before), make sure you write. Even if it’s just for 5 minutes. Because 5 minutes of anything, can eventually lead to something. And what will 5 minutes of nothing get you?

Happy Writing! (Even if it’s for 5 minutes) Thanks for reading my first proper blog!

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