Have you ever surprised yourself by what you’ve written? I do it all the time.
It’s not like I reread some of my writing later and think, ‘Oh wow, I’m so smart and funny!’ … actually, from time to time I do do that, but most of the time I think, ‘Huh. This story is actually about a completely different thing than I thought.’
And when the core of my story is revealed to me, the process of improving my writing becomes a breeze.
👻 Story time!
Years ago, I cheated on a partner. My partner discovered my betrayals and as a result, we broke up, and for the next couple of years, I felt like a massive piece of shit.
Later in my life, I co-wrote and directed a film with a comedian friend of mine, a buddy murder mystery called DEAD. In it, a stoner who can see ghosts is confronted with the ghost of his recently dead father who is slowly turning into a terrifying and inhuman ‘ghoul’.
Tom Sainsbury plays “Marbles”, a stoner who can see ghosts (including a recently murdered police offcer)
The story details of DEAD have no relevance to my life. I haven’t lost my father, I’m not a stoner, and I can’t see ghosts. In my mind, what I’d written was completely incongruous with my personal journey, especially regarding my breakup. Or so you’d think.
One day during filming, we were way out of the city on a farm filming at nighttime during a massive storm. We were filming the climax, where the protagonist comes face to face with his father’s ghost, and he’s struggling to reconcile who his father used to be with the awful phantasm standing before him. It’s terrifying and intense, absolutely masterful filmmaking, as you’d expect.
The amazing Michael Hurst as our ghoulish dad.
Another character, his friend, arrives right in the middle of this crisis, sees the strife he’s in, and offers some advice.
“Sometimes moving on doesn’t look like we think it should.”
We’d written the line a few months prior and I hadn’t thought about the specific line for a while. I certainly hadn’t considered that the line encapsulated the entire theme of the film. But at that moment, standing in the freezing cold, yelling over the squalls of driving rain, it clicked to me.
For the years since my breakup, I had tried multiple times to apologise and make up for my mistakes with my ex-partner, but no amount of grovelling and long-winded explanations helped to heal the wound for her. I’d heard from friends that she still — understandably — harboured resentment and trauma from the breakup, and it broke my heart and made me feel unbearably guilty. So, I’d keep trying. I’d apologise again with different words. Which, as you can probably guess, made it worse.
How annoying.
Hearing that line I’d written in a different context — “Sometimes moving on doesn’t look like we think it should” — I realised that trying to help my ex-partner feel better was selfish. I’d been hoping that if I could make her feel better in some way, I’d absolve myself of guilt, and I could move on without feeling like an arsehole. I didn’t want to apologise so she’d feel better; I wanted to apologise so I’d feel better.
In reality, the best thing I could do for her was to leave her alone. Let her find her own healing journey. Stop trying to make it about me.
She has been blessed with a bubbly personality and as a result, has a lot of wonderful friends. They had done a great job of supporting her and helping her through the breakup. All I had been doing was dragging up the past again and again, and forcing her to relive it. That hadn’t helped her move on, and it certainly hadn’t helped me either.
And that’s how a line I’d written, a line in a film about a stoner who can see ghosts, is really about the need to ‘move on’ in a way that doesn’t look the way I thought it should. A fantastic theme and controlling idea! Once I cracked that, I was able to approach making the film in a more concentrated way.
✍️ How can we apply this to our own writing?
You might have to write an entire draft of a story before you find out what your story ‘is’. Sometimes it can take even longer.
The big secret is to not worry about it.
Trust that your theme will reveal itself when it’s good and ready.
Instead, write from a place of excitement. When you follow your instinct and write about what interests you, whether that’s an event or a person or a feeling, your writing is better. The words come easier and faster, and you’ll find the rewrite goes smoother too.
As the adage goes, ‘if you love your job you’ll never work a day in your life’. Well, if you love your words, you’ll never struggle to write them. The saying isn’t as catchy, but the idea holds true.
Later, when your theme presents itself, it’ll announce itself in an overly obvious way. You should slap yourself and be mildly embarrassed that it took you so long to realise. ‘That’s what my story’s about! Of course!’
Discovering what your story is truly about is like rubbing the smudge off your glasses. Now, you can see everything more clearly, all of the characters’ motivations and fears are thrown into sharp relief. It becomes obvious where your characters’ dialogue is off, and it’s easy to fix.
Happy writing,
Emerson.
Also, where have I been?
Wait, and a rebrand?
Okay firstly, let’s address my absence.
My last newsletter was about failing to write the newsletter because I was working frantically toward a mammoth deadline to write six episodes of a drama series before shooting.
We shot it! Not only did I get the privilege of co-writing it, but I also co-directed it and had a small role in it. And now, I’m editing it.
The shoot went great. It was exhausting and intense, like all shoots are, and we had to rewrite a bunch of scenes on the fly because … well, because that’s always the case.
But I’m back in London now and I’m able to concentrate on writing again.