It’s always dangerous to think you’re through the worst, isn’t it?
After being sure 2024 was my suckiest writing year on record, I proceeded to have an abysmal 2025. Work was largely nonexistent – as in no gigs AT ALL for months at a time. While it doesn’t feel it, I am very lucky to say that this was my worst earning year ever as a freelancer, and the first year where I’ve had to genuinely look at alternative employment. Making a living as a writer is never completely stable, but this year I honestly thought I’d financially capsize.
Compounding this, or perhaps as a direct result of it, I endured a pretty spectacular and enduring case of burnout. The kind that hits from all sides – physical, emotional, social, creative. I don’t know that I really want to go into too much detail other than to say that as I battled to even get to my computer let alone string a coherent sentence together (and no, that’s not an exaggeration – I am getting emotional just writing this), I have never, ever been so existentially terrified, convinced as I was that I would never produce anything worthwhile again.
It was hard to communicate this to people, even close friends, who honestly I’m not sure really understood just how scared and isolated I felt. Sometimes I was sure I could read their minds – “You look fine. Aren’t you just being dramatic?” I can’t really blame them. What are you meant to do when someone, a writer no less, can’t even find the words to properly express the own internal (invisible) anguish? What are you meant to say when someone who usually can pump out reasonably solid stuff at the drop of a hat can now only produce mediocre drafts months after deadline?
I’ve never really questioned the point of my own existence before, but I did this year. I pushed through when I could, I did nothing most of the time, I tried not to feel guilty and ashamed about all of it in sporadic bursts. There was a lot of British panel show television. And chocolate. And staring.
It’s okay, by the way. I found a counsellor. I’m doing much better. Fingers crossed. Please send money…
ANYWAY. Like most inordinate gloominess, there was a silver lining. Several, actually.
In last year’s post, I mentioned the mammoth task of putting together a Screen Australia application for development funding. Well, that effort paid off and I’m happy to say that last December, just as everything was winding up, I was granted that funding (thank you Scroz!) It led to the bulk of this year’s creative headspace – a writer’s room, three development scripts and commissioning of initial character art for an animation project I’ve developed based on my Dad’s love/hate relationship with the bin chooks (sorry, ibises) that flock to his backyard garden.
In August, I travelled to the Australian Children’s Content Summit in Coffs Harbour to present the show to a few big wigs. A lot has happened with this project this year, and it’s a slog yet to see if it will get off the ground somewhere, but I really hope it flies! Watch this space…
The other notable development in my creative world is a collaboration with a producer friend, resulting in a couple of short film projects (and counting) we are hoping to shoot early 2026. Justine and I found we’d each enrolled in the same online directing course about a year ago. We knew each other through a mutual friend, but hadn’t worked together before. We caught up for coffee after the course wrapped and decided, as women of a certain vintage (we’re both the other side of 40), we would support each other in our directing dreams by helping each other get a short film off the ground. At least to test out our chops, and our mettle.
It’s been a very positive and fruitful partnership so far. I’ve written 2 shorts for her to direct (one was a last minute Tropfest one that I still am not sure will get made in time, but here’s hoping!) and I’m starting to conceptualise a couple of ideas for my own. The benefit I’ve found in writing for a director (one who’s already been a producer) is that it’s helped me better understand what I like to write. We can talk robustly about our ideas and intentions. And while I’m writing for her, as these aren’t commissioned works and are essentially just fun, creative output, I’ve needed to find my own in on them, shaping the stories in a way that yes, has to work for her, but actually has to work for me too. In many respects, Justine has been the perfect collaborator – we’re starkly different people, but on the Venn diagram of us, there is a sharp and distinct overlap of interests and shared experiences. I’m really excited about where this collaboration takes us…
Looking at my year like this, I have a lot to be thankful for despite the dark clouds. Both of my biggest creative investments have been in personal endeavours, both of which I feel proud of and am excited to hopefully share in the not too distant future.
There’s also been some lovely mentoring opportunities this year, helping guide a few great women on the up, and I was asked to run a development writer’s room for a kids show, which was slightly nerve-wracking but great as the show and everyone involved were pretty wonderful…
Alright. Without further ado, here’s what I wrote this year:
- 4 x Flower & Flour scripts (2 co-written with the ace creator Dan) – the show will finally air this coming March (’26) and I couldn’t be prouder. I’ve had a sneak peek at some of the eps and it’s come up a bloody treat;
- 3 x development scripts for my preschool animation series which I received development funds for (a process that was so much harder than it should have been thanks to my brain-fry, and I can only thank the stars for my brilliant, patient gem of a script editor) ;
- 1 x pitch and bible for above mentioned preschool animation series;
- 2 x short film scripts – both collaborations with a producer/director mate as we both consider ways to level up our experience and careers. Now I just need to crack on and write a couple more I can direct myself;
- 1 x tween sitcom pilot (the same project from last year, but we trashed that first pilot and I started again from scratch for this one – which I admit is a better pilot, but the ship may have sailed on this concept as it took me f o r e v e r to finish – see thoughts on burnout above…);
- 1 x article for an Architecture journal (as a ghost writer! Boo!)
…I think that’s it. Mostly.
How was your 2025? Going into 2026 with all guns blazing, or creeping slowly forward as you mangle out the national anthem on a kazoo?
Happy writing x
wendylikesstories.com 