I had planned on posting a Sht I Should’ve Done* blog this week. But with so much happening in the world, it didn’t feel right to stick to business as usual.

There’s been a lot to process:
the deaths of Rob & Michele Reiner,
the mass shooting in Australia,
the school shooting at Brown University,
and the ongoing Netflix/Paramount tug of war over Warner Brothers.

Add to that the fact that it’s only a week before Christmas, and I don’t know about you, but my emotions are running high.

So instead, I wanted to pause and offer a word of encouragement and support.

As I’ve mentioned many times, I’ve been in this industry for over 25 years — technically longer — and this is the only time I can remember feeling this unsure about the future. I grew up with the idea of Hollywood as this magical, mythical place. And despite the hard times, the feast-or-famine cycles, and the blatant disparities, for most of my career it honestly felt that way.

For a while, the dramatic shifts happening in the industry really got me down. But as I shared in my last blog, this moment isn’t just about loss — it’s about reinvention. It’s about staking your claim in the new, still-forming industry that’s coming next.

Here’s what I keep reminding myself: we’ve been through worse.
Maybe not as an industry — but absolutely as a country.

I’m from Detroit, so I understand firsthand what it looks like when an industry has a chokehold on a city — on its residents, its workers, its ecosystem. I’ve seen how devastating it can be when that industry pulls back or collapses. But I’ve also seen resilience. When you look at Detroit today, you can see how far a city, an industry, and its people can come when they’re forced to adapt and rebuild.

We’ve got roughly two weeks left in this year. And honestly, there’s no better way to close it out than with a plan. So here’s my (hopefully foolproof) way of refocusing my energy as we head into 2026.

1. Stop doom-scrolling.
   The sadness and anger we absorb every day don’t just live in our minds — they affect our bodies, our energy, our creativity. I know my blood pressure has spiked more than once just from reading a post, usually something political. So I take breaks from social media. I don’t announce it. I don’t explain it. I just stop scrolling and posting. It’s not avoidance — it’s self-preservation.
2. Figure out where you fit in this new industry.
   This one is tricky, because the ground is shifting fast. But clinging to the past or cursing the future won’t help. You have to decide whether you want to stay in this industry — and if you do, what that actually looks like for you. Are you making low-budget films and self-distributing? Building an audience on YouTube? Still aiming for traditional Hollywood recognition (no judgment)? Whatever your path is, be intentional about it.
3. Decide who you are as a human being — and act accordingly.
   Only post and share things you’re proud to have connected to your name. Are you generous? Curious? Supportive? Do you help others — and yes, family counts. Take stock of who you are. The internet has a way of making us feel behind or inadequate, but grounding yourself in your values will never steer you wrong.
4. Reconnect with family.
   I’m guilty of not spending enough time with mine. Of holding grudges. Of letting distance — emotional and physical — grow. But when I think about my happy place (outside of movies), it’s almost always memories with family: holidays, birthdays, random everyday moments. A few years ago, I made a decision to go home for my birthday every year. It had gotten to a point where years would pass between visits. Since my dad died, we no longer have big family gatherings, which made it easy to let time slip by — but I missed them deeply. So now I go home in the summer for my birthday instead of the holidays, and it’s been grounding in ways I didn’t expect.
5. Watch movies. A lot of them.
   Binge movies and TV shows over the next two weeks. See as many as you can in a theater. I like to alternate between something new and something I already know is great. It reminds me — not that I need convincing — of how magical (yes, I love that word) and how impactful movies can be. It reconnects me to why I fell in love with this art form in the first place.

Above all, give yourself permission to enjoy your life — even in uncertain times. Especially in uncertain times.

Let’s agree to be intentional.
Let’s agree to be human.
And let’s agree to actively craft the lives we want, instead of waiting for permission or letting someone else dictate it.

Yours in Filmmaking,
Nicole