DONE, DUSTED, D'OH!

I finished it! I have written a feature film. So, so, so happy that I made it through last week. After quite a few struggles, I pushed on to 80 pages. On my second last day, I sat down and wrote 10 more and had an 'ah, I'm almost there, this isn't so bad' moment. Advice - don't ever allow yourself that moment before you've finished (bit like the ANZAC day match where one minute before the siren, I relaxed and thought the Maggies had it in the bag and the Bombers snatched it from us)......

My fricking computer froze on me and I lost 10 pages. That may not sound a lot to some, but when you've just gone from 80 to 90 pages and 100 is your aim, to then go back to 80 when it's mid-afternoon and you're leaving your writing haven the next day - HELL!! So, I huffed and puffed and tried everything to retrieve the missing pages, when I finally realised they were gone forever, I was so tempted to storm next door and complain to Kirst and Nick (her great mate was visiting - he's behind the Playboy with Minnie La Mooch below) but knew instinctively that I'd lose it all in my head.


I sat there and argued with myself. Over and over. Finally I just forced my hands to type. And I did it. I know in my heart that those 10 pages are better for it. Hallelujah. So, I hit page 101 and Kirst popped a bottle of Veuve Cliquot. Owzat! It was the most delicious bottle of champagne ever. My own mini-Cannes.

The next day I packed up and headed back to reality. K dropped me in Mornington just in the nick of time (well the poor guy had to wait a few mins but hey ho) to catch my bus. The sun was shining and I got off in Elwood and walked home feeling light as a feather. I made plans with my oldest, most gorgeous friend Pip for dinner and she took me to an incredible Italian called Da Noi. It was the perfect choice, as it used to be a restaurant called Brummels where I worked when I was a teenager. It was a perfect night. We had about 10 small courses (3 desserts!) and numerous wines - each one was more delicious than the last. Squisito.

The next day I woke up and couldn't help myself, I had to read over the script (despite my promise of the weekend off). Not so bad, but still not happy with the ending. Then I had a fun day meeting my neighbours and getting ready for drinks. I caught up with some friends and had a mini celebration, which was so much fun. I think I played some of the cheesiest tunes in existence - just for a change. Dancing is food for the soul.

Then I took off to Flinders with Dad and did a final edit. Amazing how many mistakes you find when you actually see it on paper. Hame arrived back from the States, where he had a brilliant break and I presented him with the draft. He only finished reading it last night and I asked for positive feedback first, as I know that there are lots of things to improve but it seems he thinks it's a great start. Phew!

We're going to spend the weekend picking it apart and then we start on the long, long, long road of trying to get a feature off the ground. But, I've got a good feeling about this one. I really do.

Now, I have to face the cold, hard truth that I must get a 'real' job. No more spending all my time on docs and writing scripts for a bit. I need to make some cashish and check in properly with the film industry here. I've been under the radar a lot since I got back. Time to get out in the light. Here I am again, reinventing myself for the gazillionth time it seems. It's exciting but so daunting.

Wish me luck.

BATTLING DEMONS BY THE SEA

I'm on a mission. I'm attempting to write my first feature film script in 9 years and I've chosen an Australian period bio-pic.

I'm not allowed to give the story away or my brother, Hamish, will excommunicate me. Safe to say it's a story that we felt driven to tell and we spent considerable time planning and plotting. Then he nicked off for a holiday in America. I think he's just made it to San Francisco. I'm very jealous.

Though I've got the most incredible setting in which to write. I'm poised on the sea front of Portsea, just above Shelley Beach. The view is breathtaking and this is the house where I spent endless, happy, sunburnt summers growing up. It's also the location where I wrote my last screenplay.

I am most definitely making good headway, but I've hit a rough patch and am battling with myself not to give up too easily. It's Day 9 and I'm on page 76. My aim was 10 pages per day and I kept to that until Sunday. That day of enticing sloth.

I have been doing a mini triathalon most mornings (Sunday being the exception!!!) which is most unusual for me. I've done a little yoga, then a run along the beach with dogs yapping at my heels and demanding balls to be thrown (so not really a proper run) and then much to my surprise I've made it into the ocean pretty much every day to swim around the nearest buoy to the end of the jetty. What a wonderful way to start each day. It's heavenly and makes me feel so alive.

Just in case you don't know this, I am one of the laziest exercisers on this planet. I love yoga, but prefer to do a bit on my own than venture to a class and I have quickly got used to going for a morning walk with Minnie (Hame's divine black Staffordshire bull terrier) but running/jogging. Mein godt! Funny how I've always thought it was only for very fit people to do. But even unfit, jelly belly ol' moi can do it.

I am an ex-smoking asthmatic, so I don't go very fast or far, but it's easy to do and helps walk the dog that much faster. A revelation!


Talking of dogs, my heavenly host Kirsty Begg and I took her old boy Jaffa, who's recovering from an op, Minnie the Minster and Mum and Dad's fluffy puppy Oscar to A Million Paws on Sunday morn. It was hilarious. I couldn't stop laughing at all the different people and their crazy dogs. I'm a late convert, I've always been a cat person but I am completely and utterly taken with Minnie. Unfortunately the heavens kept opening on us, but we managed to go for a wander and check out the stalls and while sipping our much needed cuppas, we stood by the mini competition circle in the centre. The rain was sleeting down and they were having a Tallest Dog comp. Kirsty asked where the other entrants were (only two massive Great Dane's were walking around the circle) and after being told that they hadn't showed, she promptly entered Jaffa and he got third prize!!!! Clever ducky. As she said, "You've got to be in it, to win it" when the judges were poking a bit of fun at her old boy.

So, I'm sitting here on Tuesday morning and I have a deadline of Friday. I know that I can reach my target by the end of the week, but how do I get past this block? I'm having a 'the last section I wrote is crap and I want to give up coz it's all too hard' moment. It's stupid and completely predictable after 8 days of blissful writing, where it felt like the words were spilling forth with ease. I know in my head that this is a first draft, there will be many more and I just need to get it down. But my heart is saying, see you silly girl, what did you think you could just write this script, you've got no talent, you should give up now and get a real job.

But I love filmmaking, I love being creative and I want to give this my best. So, I'm going to make another pot of tea and face the blank page. Please say a little prayer for me to the writing god. I need it.

Lxxxx

LOGIES TO GOGIS

I caught the Frankston train back to town, (thank you Rob), and got red carpeted at supersonic speed. I had no time to do anything to may hair, but was otherwise together when the cab pulled up. A Croatian guy asked me numerous times how to get to Tony's address and each time I said that I was very rusty as I'd lived away for so long and showed him on the map where we were going. What's happened to the taxi services in this country. I've had so many run ins with taxis not showing up and then when they do (usually late or having to chase them down the street as they refuse to get out of their cars and ever ring a bell) they rarely have any idea how to get around.

Anyway, my very friendly Croatian decides to tell me every detail about the divorce with his wife. Turns out he was a cinematographer back home but couldn't find that work here. He told me all about his travels and many ex-girlfriends, then realised that he'd gone way past the turn off and without any apology, he then made his way back and I went from being early to late. Great!

Tony's car was waiting and I got to give Helen a big hug before we left. It's a tough time for them, but they're so strong. I recounted my weekend's antics as we approached Crown Casino. It was a chilly but clear evening and the crowds were out in force. It took us a while to get through the melee of photographers, cameras and crowds. Tony handled it all so professionally and I posed along side him, wishing I'd ditched my coat, but knowing I'd be happy for it later.

The funniest thing was when we got to the foot of the stairs, Jono Coleman and his radio partner were waiting to interview Tony. He introduced me too and we had such a funny chat. They got the impression that I'd just come back from working for the BBC, so Jono said "I'm sure we worked together in the UK, do you remember?". "It was the highlight of my career thus far", I replied. How funny! They were interviewing Cathy Freeman before us, so we got to have a quick chat with Australia's Olympic gold medallist who's about to get married.

There were amazing frocks everywhere and the stairs we had to climb were very daunting. Luckily at the top was lots of delicious champers and some interesting people. I ended up in a corner with Kerry O'Brien and some other old journos talking about Collingwood and the good ol' days. They all remembered my Dad. It was a lovely feeling. Tony darted around the room and I met all sorts of presenters and newscasters and actors.

Inside, we were sitting on the Golden Logie table. That's the big award that Tony won in the 80s. We had the most brilliant table. Denise Drysdale was an absolute hoot. Rowena Wallace was ascerbic and full of grace. Mike Willisee came in late with a glamorous brunette and stayed for a short while. But Johnny Young. Sigh! He stole my heart.

Let me pause to say that I had a wonderful night, but unfortunately the idiotic woman (Big Brother host!!!) they chose did such a bad job. Plus the sound was hideous and the screens that were put around the room were so pixellated we couldn't see a damn thing, and the steadi-cam operator on stage kept standing in front of the one good screen. It was a mess. So we all ended up drinking and chatting amongst ourselves. It didn't feel like the awards were inclusive of the audience in the room. They were simply aimed at the television audience.

So, after seeing Rebecca Gibney pick up her awards and looking incredibly stunning, I gathered my courage and went to sit next to Johnny. He remembered my Dad well and when I told him what a huge fan I'd been of Young Talent Time he smiled a knowing smile. "Could you bear to sing All My Lovin'?", I asked breathlessly. He smiled and launched straight into it. I sang along with him and to be honest, I can now die happy.

During the awards I had some fun chats to various people, in particular the gorgeous Ruby Rose. She told me that her necklace was vintage Tiffany's from the 70s and it looked incredible with her glamorous navy gown and her punk rock hair and tatts. What a chick!

The after party is a complete blur of dancing and lychee martinis. I have visions of Tony and I taking turns to get more and more drinks. We were laughing and dancing and had a ball. Suddenly it was time to go home and I'd only had the chance to wave at various friends and acquaintances. I wish I could do it over again, but hey ho.

I feel like I've only just recovered. Luckily I could throw myself into my research for the screenplay and escape to the State Library (WOW) where I disappeared in a pile of books. I am now so excited to have started the script. My first in so long. It feels great to be writing again. I can't give away anything about it (as Hamish would kill me) except to say that it's an Australian story set in the nineteenth century. Clearly an easy one to tackle after so long. Eeeek!

I finished the week with a mother daughter lunch at the Alexandra Club. It was such a funny experience, but filled with some lovely people. Most who hadn't seen me since I was tiny wee. I sat next to a woman who told me stories about her husband that made my blood run cold. Note to self - never, every marry a selfish prick who gambles all day and plays Playstation all night while you look after the kids.

Seated next to her was the wife of Charles Searby who is Ian Darling's screenwriting partner. Oh, I forgot that Ian's wonderful doc OASIS was up for a Logie but sadly didn't win. I went over to commiserate and then brought him back to our table. I also ran into Alison Wyatt and Caroline Craig at various stages of the night.

So I'm not really supposed to talk about GOGI. It's a bit like fight club. But I just have to say that I'm so glad I stuck around in Melbs for our inaugural event. I met so many brilliant people and am so excited about our next meet. I need to do more to take me outside of my comfort zone in Melbs. There are so many interesting adventures just waiting, and people to meet.

Forgot to mention an art opening for Sarah Rennolds (sorry Sarah can't remember your maiden name) who has married Steve. The Nellie Castan Gallery on River St hosted a preview last week and it was such fun to see her work. She's very talented and I'm excited to see where she goes next. It was seriously trippy running into SO many faces, many I hadn't seen since teenage years, in the one small, sweaty room. My gorgeous mate Stelllar showed up and we ended up having a fantabulous evening after.

Congrats to Steve and Sarah and the various other pregnant couples I know (some I can't mention by name). And to my cousin Charlie and his fiancee Katie - such divine news. Oh yeah, and to all those who've just had a little one (Dave and Penny, Ridders and his lady....) many congrats everybody. My what a productive time it is. I'm just trying to give birth to a script. Say a little prayer to the writing god for me. Bless you Kirst, for giving me somewhere to escape to and just write, write, write.

I'll be back when I've come up for air.
Lxxxxx

MY OH MY IT'S MAY!

Since my return from Sydney the time has been rushing by. First I must reflect on ANZAC day, which was very special. I haven't been in Oz for ANZAC day for a long time and for those who don't know, it's a day to honour the Australian and New Zealand Army Corps. It originated as the term to represent those fighting the Turks in the Battle of Gallipoli in WWI. It has now grown to encompass other battles and wars and those of our troops still fighting for our country.

My father and I met at 4.45am to walk to the ANZAC shrine where the dawn service was to take place. There was the most incredible mixture of young and old. A friend of Dad's, Tony Charlton, has been hosting the event for over 30 years. His voice resounded over loud speakers, recounting snippets of soldier's stories, poetry and history. Tony's voice is clear and full of emotion, but so respectful and moving. It was an incredible experience standing amongst 40,000 people. The silences were heavy but the service was uplifting.

There was a shared companionship and respect that is hard to describe. Everyone there was deeply affected by the words, prayers and music (one pity is that the Welsh Choir sounded like they were strangling each other under water). I appreciated the time to reflect on both my grandfathers' great courage. My Australian grandfather was killed in the Fall of Singapore when Dad was only 2 years old. My English grandfather served in both World Wars only to die of a heart attack in his early 70s. I wish I had known these incredible men. It is so important to remember them and all of those who have fallen. Lest we forget.

I read in the paper the next day that a young boy, about 6 years old and at his first dawn service, went up to one of the old boys covered in medals and said, "Thank you for saving the world." The man replied, "You're welcome son. You just made my day." I am enjoying feeling immensely proud of my country. However, I can't say I am immensely proud of my father's football team - Collingwood aka The Magpies.


All the Macs covered themselves in black and white and went to the ANZAC day match against Essendon. I think the last time all four of us were at the footy together, might have been at the 1990 Grand Final when we beat the Bombers/Essendon. We had a nice lunch in the Harrison Room and Jack Pimm (a war veteran who played for the Magpies) was on our table as well as some other fun people. The crowd was so excitable and we had a monster match ahead. It was an amazing contest and I take full responsibility. In the last 5 minutes when we were a few goals ahead, I let myself relax and believe that we had it in the bag. The Bombers snatched the ball and escaped the jaws of defeat in the last 30 seconds. It was a very sad ending to a fantastic match. Both Dad and I had almost no voice by the end of it all.

I was absolutely shattered by the evening (post Sydney/dawn service/footy) but had to push on through for Hamish's birthday bash. We had such a fun night. All sorts of people showed up and the bar got absolutely packed. By midnight I was completely done in. Hame still doesn't believe me. I really did come home and crash. Promise!

For Hame's real birth date we had an incredible dinner at the Stoke House. It has the most delicious fish dishes and sits right on the ocean. Unfortunately it was bucketing down with the most intense rain, but it was fun being rugged up inside watching it pelt towards us.

I also had the pleasure of seeing an old school mate, Caroline Craig, walk the boards at The Arts Centre. Her play, The Bridesmaids, takes a long hard look at fidelity when two friends are forced to tell their friend, the blushing bride, that her man has been cheating on her - the night before her wedding. It stirred up some ferocious debate in the bar afterwards and I adored meeting Jacqui Weaver who plays the bride's mother. She is on her 5th husband (who joined us and is also an actor, Sean of the velvet voice) and had some pearls of wisdom to impart.

I saw an incredibly beautiful film with Mum called ELEGY, starring Penelope Cruz and Ben Kingsley. Gosh it's fun going on missions together again. We had the wind knocked out of us by the performances. It was an amazing experience and without ruining it for anyone who might read this and see it, be warned that it's very sad but so beautiful - it brought back many memories. I was gasping for air by the end.

There were only 6 people in the cinema as we went to a naughty afternoon session. When two of the women walked out, we recognised each other. One of the ladies was Kerry Gillespie, the mother of an old friend of mine called Alexis. Her father, Kerry's late husband, Wayne was one of Australia's most talented architects. It was harrowing to hear what she went through when he fell ill while on a trip in the Middle East. She had to spend 6 weeks looking after him in the most rudimentary hospital all by herself. He was too sick to move, but made a recovery and came back to Oz. Then cancer overtook his body. She is such an inspiration, as she now works in food kitchens and helps street kids.

I then had a wonderful visit to my parents' place in Flinders. I couldn't help watching the Collingwood match with Dad and this time we didn't get the Collywobbles. We beat North Melbourne convincingly and Leon Davis is my new hero. He is so small and cheeky and talented. He took a wonderful flying mark that was the highlight.

The weather at the weekend was flawless. The clearest, most divine Autumn days. Hame had organised with his great friend Jane Liscombe (Producer extraordinaire) to meet up at her parents' place in Mt Martha. We went on an incredible walk along the cliff to Mornington where we ate like kings and then explored the town. We ended up taking booze and chips and lollies (no dinner needed!!!) back to the house and dancing around singing at the top of our lungs. Livin' On A Prayer was the highlight.

Now I wish I had time to recount the Logies but I need to get on with my research into the screenplay that Hame and I are writing together. Next week I'm disappearing to Portsea to stay with an old friend and to write every day. Then Hame will come back from his American trip and rip it to pieces. Fingers crossed we end up with the start of something big. I have a great feeling about this story. I can't tell anyone about it yet, but watch this space.

Logies (the big TV awards) aftermath coming up shortly. I haven't quite recovered yet....
Lxxx