An essay on writing, in conjunction with movies or shows that bring us comfort.
A couple years ago, I decided to have a super-familiar movie (familiar to me) playing on silent in the background while I write. I try to write every night, and the two elements go together now: my laptop, and my projector and a projector screen that covers almost an entire wall of my home.
Not sure why I started doing this, but my best guess is that the film on silent helps me stay grounded in the present moment. Kind of like mindfulness, or identifying things in the room you can see, hear, etc. I write memoir, and when I’m writing about serious things, I need something outside of myself to look at as a reminder that I’m still here in present day. I used to just get lost in my words, but I didn’t like how absorbed I got sometimes. A few of you who also write have shared this happens to you too; feeling dizzy or shaky, floating away, and somehow also claustrophobic. It felt too strange for me, and living by myself now, I didn’t like feeling that way.
I switch up the films, of course. Predictably, Hitchcock's “The Birds” is on the short list. So is “The Way, Way Back” with Toni Collette and Allison Janney. Sandra Bullock’s “Unforgiven” is in rotation, and the more recent “NYAD.” Each of them has a quirky, unexpected connection to my life, and seeing each of them many times, I could write a dissertation on any of them. But for the purposes of my nightly writing which can feel so vulnerable, they provide a familiar backdrop, a silent soundtrack (?) to hold the space for me. In the case of the projector screen, literally holding up one of the walls so I don't feel the room is caving in on me.
Double Jeopardy is a movie I have probably seen 200x in the past 25 years since it came out, many of these times on silent as I write. I have loved Ashley Judd ever since I was 17 years old, practically a lifelong love. We’ve interacted a bit over social media, but mostly I just admire her from afar: her philanthropy, her volunteer work, and her acting career. She has largely chosen films that portray compassionate characters, and strong women who may have gotten knocked down a few times but keep standing up and fighting back. She is a huge advocate for children, animals, mental health, and women. Her memoir is STUNNING: meaningful, compassionate, inspiring. She was pivotal in the MeToo movement re: Harvey (another great movie? "She Said."). With that kind of advocacy and altruism, no wonder I feel better when she’s in my living room as I'm writing about serious themes.
Writing, and maybe especially writing memoir (although I haven’t written much fiction) can cause us to go through not just an emotional and mental shift, but also a physical one. As we relive these experiences and put them onto the computer screen or on paper, we may feel the same sensations we felt when the event originally happened. Our heart rate may go up, we may feel anxious, we may start crying or smiling or laughing. We may talk to the people we are writing about. When I was writing about Vinnie, I would say, “Oh, Vinnie. You’re a good boy,” every time I recalled something cute or funny that he did, even though he wasn’t physically present. It felt right to talk to him as I was absorbed in our story.
This movie takes place in a few locations, but starts in the Pacific Northwest on Whidbey Island. I think of this movie every time I visit Whidbey. I love seeing the greenery of the PNW and the scenes with the ferry boats. I love that the movie centers around love, around the love and protection she has for her son, that drives the story forward. I first saw this movie when I was a teenager, after I’d already decided that I loved Ashley Judd. It is definitely one of my comfort movies, and now it helps me when I write.
Thanks for reading. Feel free to share your comfort media below. I love hearing how these types of media can feel so familiar and safe to us.
Love you all. 
