Category: Blog Category

What Nobody Told Me About Grief

December 2, 2019

A lot of people around me have recently lost people they’ve loved or really cared about. So I thought I would share this Facebook post I wrote about dealing with grief after the death of my beloved, inspiring and wonderful Aunt, Jennie Buckman – What I wish I’d known about grief and all the things that came up that I wasn’t expecting. I’ve talked a lot about digging deep in writing and bleeding over the keys, so here’s some of mine. I hope if you’re grieving, this gives you some comfort. (By the way – Fuck. Shit. Wank. Bullocks was one of her favorite phrases – she said it frequently and often and always in that order):

Our tireless, fearless fighter, Jennie Buckman (right), average blog writer (left).

Fuck. Shit. Wank. Bollocks.

We have lost Jennie Buckman. Our champion. Our loving advocate. Our hilarious, frequent expletive using, passionate and fierce supporter. It’s a devastating and unfathomable loss to us all. So after some chats with my cousins and family, please allow me to share this (long-winded) post about death and grief and my experiences with it. Not because I want to make this about me, but because so many people around me are in pain and grieving right now, and we don’t talk about this process nearly enough.

I hope that, at best, this might provide some comfort, and at least, if you’re grieving, will help you feel less alone. Also, in the spirit of the late and great Jen herself, who was so upfront about her dying right until the end, I want to be a little upfront about the process of grieving here. So please take this in the spirit intended – just someone who has kinda been through it before, sharing with someone who might be majorly going through it now. Also, this is in no way aiming to minimize or take away anyone’s grief. I honestly wish when this first happened to me, someone had been able to tell me some of this stuff, because I really would have been much kinder and easier on myself. Anyway, here goes…

It’s just going to be shit for a while.

This was the best advice I ever received. Hands down. It’s not your fault. You can’t get around it. You can’t avoid it. It is what it is. And it’s shit. How long for? A while. How long’s that then? Until it’s not shit.

Grief is bottomless, black, gaping hole

with ragged, raw and sharp edges that catch and bleed. At least that’s how it felt (feels) for me. Over time (a long time), the edges wear smooth and vines grow over the hole, so you can’t see it or feel it as much. Sometimes you even forget it’s there. But then, suddenly, something/someone inadvertently puts a finger right into that place– right into those overgrown vines – which aren’t a strong as they look – and they give way a little. And wow – there’s all that raw grief again. It never really goes away. But it kind of absorbs, and sinks in and becomes a part of you and new memories and bonds form over the top of it.

It’s your grief. It’s personal.

When my Dad died, I thought I shouldn’t really be feeling so sad, because it wasn’t like I lived with him or anything. We hadn’t actually talked for a month. Other people saw him more than me. They were closer. I kept thinking, I don’t have a right to feel like this. All that did was make me feel bad about feeling sad. I eventually realized that none of that mattered: I simply really fucking missed him (Still do – always will). And I couldn’t change the way I was feeling. And it didn’t matter how far apart we were or how much closer others were, he was still my Dad and I was still grieving. You are completely entitled to feel how you feel. Your grief is real, understandable and 100% legitimate. There is no right or wrong way to feel or a set amount of time before you should feel better.

How I didn’t self-destruct from grief

So for me, the tricky part then, was not acting on these sad feelings in my typical self-destructive ways (and also doing it without resorting to alcohol which is not an option for me anymore). So that meant I had to do things to really try and stay in the present so I didn’t spiral into dark, sad and depressing past or future places, full of regrets and empty hopes. I used mindfulness mediation, I talked to myself a lot, I talked to my hands a lot. A LOT – anything to stay in the present. Where are your hands? On my keyboard. What are they doing? Typing. What letters? T-Y-P-I-N-G. What does your keyboard look like? It’s silver. There’s food stuff or something between the Y and the H keys. The black bit of the Spacebar bit is flaking off…

3-5 mins of “Meds” everyday

I also meditated for like 3-5 mins every day (still do – I call it “meds”- it sounds less wanky). Anyway, I would do “meds” a couple of times a day if I needed to. It doesn’t have to be an hour and half a hilltop with chanting goats, gongs and bells. For me, I just needed to get my brain out of that dark pattern of thinking and I did that by forcing it to stay in the present and looking at what was directly in front of me. Nothing else. Just what was directly in front of me and whatever I had to deal with at that particular moment. I honestly couldn’t deal with anything beyond that.

See People – Even When I Didn’t Want To

I also had to make an effort to be around people – even when I wanted to completely isolate. Even when I was so heavy with grief I could barely stand up or speak. I knew I couldn’t trust my head alone and unsupervised. So I would literally go to coffee with people and just sit there and not speak (Not because I didn’t want to but because I actually couldn’t – it took too much effort). And if people around me spoke to me, they were lucky if they got a nod. But they knew. And they understood. Because they were my friends and they loved me. Even when I felt so sad and depressed, I couldn’t understand how anyone would want to be around me or could possibly love me.

Warning: Grief has physical side effects

The PHYSICAL aspect of Grief. I wasn’t prepared for the physical effects of grief. I didn’t expect to have days where I would be so tired, so heavy with it that I could barely stand up. Or that my body would also respond to the additional stress by developing bladder infections (which I hadn’t had since I was a child). It might be different for you, but don’t be surprised if this amount of emotional stress has some sort of physical impact on your body.

It’s a rollercoaster.

And sometimes all you can do is hang on. Some days I felt like a sobbing mess. Some days I almost felt normal. Then some days, I felt normal but then I would knock over a glass of water, someone would say something I didn’t like (which was usually innocuous and harmless) and I would either break into hysterics or snap angrily. Generally, I like to think, I’m a fairly level-headed person. So when these outbursts happened, and especially when I had been feeling so normal moments before, I got really worried. Scared even. Maybe I was having some sort of breakdown? Until someone explained to me that I was going through a huge emotional trauma. If my stress levels were a bottle of soda for example, then normally, the bottle would only be ¼ full. But now, my base stress levels were ¾ full. So any additional “normal” stress was adding to my already ¾ full bottle, shaking it up and making it overflow. Ah. Wish someone had told me that before…

What happens when you start to feel normal again…

About a month or two after, I started to feel really normal again. So normal in fact, I actually forgot that my Dad had died for a minute. The shock had worn off. I was upright more often and mostly back to my regular routine. And one day, I was walking down the street and suddenly had this thought, “I haven’t spoken to Dad for a while. I should call him”. Then this small part of my brain was like, “Yeah, there’s a reason you haven’t. What was it? I can’t remember, but it’s really important. Is he travelling again? What was the reason?”. And then suddenly – “Oh that’s right. He’s dead”. And it was like he’d died and I’d lost him all over again. Fuck.

The Self-Talk

The self-talk. I am my own worst enemy. I had all these expectations about how I should feel. What I should be capable of and when by. I shouldn’t still be sad after x number of days/weeks/months. I should be over this by now. I realized I was telling myself things like, “You shouldn’t be feeling like this today, what’s wrong with you? You have x, x and x going on in your life. You have so much to be grateful for. Why aren’t you grateful? You should feel happy. You’re crazy/stupid/lazy”. And it’s true. I did have a lot to be grateful for. I was grateful. I just didn’t feel grateful. I just felt sad. But telling myself how I should feel and beating myself up for it, didn’t help how I did feel. In fact, it was quite the opposite – it just made me feel worse. So I had to change the way I spoke to myself. It took a lot of practice because I’d been beating myself up for a very long time.

But eventually, it became, “Jo, you’re a bit sad today and you know what, that’s okay. But you know, you have work to do today, so how about we just go to work and see what we can do? And you know, if it takes you a bit longer to do something that’s okay, and if you need to take lunch earlier, fine. You’re really fucking sad today, so let’s just acknowledge you’re really fucking sad today, and put that to one side. Don’t ignore it, just put it to the side and let’s go about our day as best we can”. Once I allowed myself to acknowledge how I felt, I could accept it, and then it just kind of rode itself out in time (with some help – I did go to therapy for a while, that helped a lot too. There is no shame in seeking and getting help however and whenever you need it).

So anyway, I didn’t know this stuff about grief. I wasn’t ready for it. We never really are, are we? So if you’re grieving, then I hope this helps you a little. So as much as you’re blindsided by your terrible loss of a loved one, maybe you won’t be so blindsided by your emotional and physical reactions to it (if that makes sense) and will be able to go a bit gently on yourself. This unfathomable grief and loss you’re feeling – it sucks. It really fucking sucks. And nothing can take it away or make it better. But I want you to know, you’re not alone. And you are loved. And if you need to talk or reach out, I’m here. And if you just want to sit silently around other people, while they talk, then that’s absolutely fine too.

And I’ll end with this, death is also hard for those around us who don’t have a personal connection to the person we’ve lost, but care about us and maybe don’t quite know how to handle it (who does, really?). So if you’re in this situation, here’s what helped me: Just be there. Listen if I need to talk, be okay with silence or quiet if I can’t. You don’t have to be my counsellor. I’m not expecting you to take on my pain on as your own. You can’t. There’s nothing you can do to make this better. This pain will fade when it’s ready (it never really goes away completely – not really). You are as powerless over this thing as I am. What you can do is simply be there and given the circumstances, perhaps let go of any expectations you have as to what mood I’ll be in and what I’ll be capable of doing. I promise, I’m trying my best, but I may not be my usual ball of sunshine. And may not be for a while. So please, if you can be a bit patient and gentle, I’ll be back to normal in a while. I promise. Whatever “normal” is for someone like me or however long “a while” turns out to be under the circumstances.

And also, to everyone who knew and loved my Aunt, Jen – I am so deeply sorry for your loss. I like to believe she and Dad are up there somewhere – wherever awesome atheists go – holding court, upping each other’s jokes, arguing passionately, interrupting and talking over each other and generally causing some form of hilarious riot. But fuck. She was so loved and will still be so missed.

Fuck. Shit. Wank. Bollocks.

 

Who Says Corporate Writing Has To Be Boring?

November 3, 2019

IT DOESN’T!

To me, the process for corporate projects isn’t that different to more “creative” projects. At the core of all writing – corporate, creative or business – is a need to connect and engage with the audience. That’s how to make your brand/message memorable. Whatever I’m writing, I want the viewer/audience to have an emotional response to it – whether it’s warm fuzzies, a laugh or a moment of clarity.

Recently, I completed an exciting corporate writing project for Jason Feldman. I wrote the web copy and wrote, produced and directed his web videos. He has a playful, quirky personality that was fun to work with and made the creative process (for the most part) highly enjoyable.

Think about all the ads you’ve seen lately – TV, web, billboards. Which ones stood out to you? What are the ones you remember?  The ones that stuck with me either made me feel something, or had a surprising twist that piqued my brain and made it hold it in a memory. (I can still remember a Guinness ad I saw over 10 years ago that showed three guys walking into a pub, and then de-evolving through millions of years (in 60 seconds) to become tadpoles to the song “Rhythm of Life”.)

Okay, so you might not be able to turn a quarterly earnings report to your stockholders into an award-winning whizz-bang commercial, but there is a way to communicate the information effectively and make it memorable. For example, I had a lecturer at university who would break up large chunks of scientific information with a Far Side cartoon.

So in a nutshell, for me, the trick is to make it as interesting as possible, without losing the message. So firstly, I try to keep it simple and concise by not cramming too many ideas into one thing. Then I try and make it a little more personal to the viewer/reader, and make it engaging. You’ll notice I’m addressing you directly, for example. Did you also notice I’m asking you questions? I’m trying to engage your by brain by asking it questions that it will have to think about answers to.

When I’m writing more creatively, I try and boil down my script to the emotional core and arc of my main characters and layer the story over the top. In a more corporate setting, the emotional core becomes the overall message or brand and this underpins everything I write for the client. For Jason, for example, his playful and approachable personality is his brand, so I tried to convey this not only in the videos, but in the web copy too. I did this by keeping the tone of the copy light and breezy.

If you want some help or suggestions for your corporate writing or website copy, feel free to reach out to me. I’m always happy to answer any questions you have.

Thanks for reading. Enjoy your day!

Location, location, location

October 14, 2019

I was at Costco on the weekend – something I usually try to avoid at all costs – and it was packed as usual. Teeming with dazed looking Dads, mission-charged Moms with long lists and determined expressions, huge families with frazzled parents (grandparents in tow) roping their multiple kids in as pack mules to maneuverer overfilled carts. Chaotic consumerism at its finest.

In the midst of it all, was this couple in their mid-30s standing next to a display of baby blankets. They were completely frozen – locked in their own world, oblivious to the impatient masses streaming around them. The man was leaning into the woman, hand on her arm and he was murmuring intensely. She was nodding. Fighting back tears. Her face immobile. Eventually, she gave a small smile, he squeezed her hand, gave her a gentle kiss on the cheek and they slowly moved along. Neither of them, saw me watching. A private moment on display for everyone to see. But nobody did – they were also locked in their own worlds.

When I was battling a bout of depression (years ago now), I did a lot of my crying on public transport. For me, this was the perfect solution to the overwhelming sadness that needed to be expressed – I didn’t want to be a downer and constantly cry to my friends, but I also didn’t want to cry alone (interestingly enough, I don’t recall anyone ever asking me if I was alright).

Are you seeing where I’m going with this yet? My point is how much a particular location can add to and emphasize your story. Some people enjoy sex in public because of the risks involved in possibly getting caught. In the same way, two characters having a very private moment in public can also add dramatic tension to a scene. Will a kind stranger intervene? Will everyone notice? Will someone shame them for yelling at each other? Or do they lower their voices and lean in so no one can hear them?

A bigger location doesn’t necessarily mean a more dramatic scene either. A confined location can equally add tension. I’ve been stuck in a car at the Mexico border, with someone in the passenger seat consistently screaming angrily at me. For hours. People in neighboring cars occasionally glanced over with curiosity, but no one intervened. I had no escape and no way of getting them out of my car. I just sat there with tears rolling down my cheeks, waiting for them to get tired and stop. Normally, in any sort of argument, I could walk away. Or kick them out of the car. But not this time. In this instance, the setting (my car at the Mexican-US border) added another layer of tension to an already volatile situation and I was trapped by circumstance. When you write a scene, think about how the location or setting can add tension or emphasize the general theme of your story. (Another good example is the fight scene in the elevator in Captain America: The Winter Soldier – just don’t write a spec script with a bunch of characters stuck in an elevator – it’s such an overused device these days).

Anyway, that was a little insight my recent trip to Costco brought me. The resultant slow-cooker pot roast turned out pretty good too (totally worth it).

Now let’s write.

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!