‘Bollix’ says the title on a boldly coloured yellow and magenta-covered book. Behind the title is a grey image of author Nic Russell, staunch in casual gear, with trademark large glasses and short haircut. Christine Young talked to Nic, who is anything but grey in colour choice or personality, to discover the story behind her memoir, launched this month.
The memoir’s subtitle reveals more: ‘When life isn’t all it’s craic’d up to be’. You’d guess from this that there’s some Irish in Nic’s background – and that there have been more downs than ups in her life to date. Most of that is not for here but for the reader to discover, but the bones of it are that Nic moved from her Northern Irish home to New Zealand when she was 20, married and moved to Motutapu not long after, and had two children. Then Kenzie, just three years old, became ill, and was diagnosed with sarcoma.
It could be a grim read – but it’s not. Nic writes with a searing honesty but also a lightness of touch not just about Kenzie’s death and the aftermath of that, but of health challenges she herself subsequently faced, and still faces. She hopes the book shows how you can live (and enjoy) life even when it’s hard. “It’s not always pockets of roses or Instagram.”
But how did she do it?
“The hardest thing I’ve ever done was write this book,” says Nic. “I stopped and started over the years.” It took her 15 years after Kenzie’s death to even begin, and nearly four years to complete, writing part-time around continuing to work, facing her own health challenges, and spending time with her son and Kenzie’s older brother Conor. Inevitably, as she resurrected and relived memories, she needed time away to recharge emotionally.
“It wasn’t ‘I must write a book’,” she says. “The overarching story was Kenzie’s…. And I wanted to show you can have a good life, whatever life throws at you.”
Kenzie was (and remains) Nic’s guiding light. Kenzie “lived life fully in the present. Even when she was sick, she wanted to hold on to life…. Me and Conor learned through Kenzie that life is precious.” She was the inspiration for the formation of Kenzie’s Gift, a charity Nic continues to lead as CEO, that raises funds to provide therapy, grief kits and resources for young people and families facing serious illness or grief.
Nic credits her friend Jane Bissell, a writer, with encouraging her to write her story, telling her to just get started. Easier said than done. Finally she did, revising and rereading endlessly to get the balance right and ensure she honestly and accurately reflected the roles so many others have played in her saga. But she struggled to find the right voice or to commit her feelings to paper in ways that would engage readers. She is eternally grateful to Jane, who she took on as her writing mentor and editor. “She said ‘Show don’t tell’. I took a while to get to grips with that,” admits Nic. “And she said “Show more emotional depth’. I’m Northern Irish; we don’t do emotional depth.” Both these stylistic challenges created conflict, as Nic resisted and Jane persisted. “But eventually I got into the swing of it.”
Nic wrote chronologically (“That’s my way of writing.”), but Jane helped Nic structure the book, which starts with positive memories of Kenzie and Conor as preschoolers, and weaves back through Nic’s own growing up in Northern Ireland, through the trauma of Kenzie’s illness and Nic’s own cancer diagnosis, and beyond. Throughout, Nic says, she needed the authenticity of her voice to come through; she had to ask editors and proofreaders not to touch spelling, as the nuances of the Northern Irish vernacular risked being lost. She was also aware of the time she has lived in New Zealand, of “merging two cultures and influences” and that Irish humour can be bleaker and darker than Kiwis are used to; she had to beware of coming across too strongly. “I had to watch the differences, be aware of my voice and its impact.”
Nic says it was most difficult writing about Kenzie, despite the fact that she has frequently spoken about her daughter in her role as CEO of Kenzie’s Gift. But when you get up in front of people, she says, you put on a mask, and you’re doing it for the benefit of other families and children. Writing was more challenging, despite the time distance. “When it first happened, it was raw, painful and overwhelming. As time moves forward, the grief sets into a chronic condition. But in writing the book you have to go right back into it. It was emotionally draining and fatiguing. I had to take time to get outside in the fresh air, go for a swim…”
Nic has found her own way of dealing with the hard knocks. As she says, her relief valve is “getting out of doors and connecting with nature”, a mode of coping that has manifested in diving, early morning swims with friends, cycling and walking. She now lives near Cheltenham, and appreciates being able to walk to the beach. “Every sunrise is another day. The world still keeps turning even when you’re stopped in hell,” she reflects. It takes time (in her case at least a decade) but eventually “you settle into your grief”. Now, more than in the early years after Kenzie’s death, she can reflect on the “funny and lovely memories” when Kenzie was a toddler and adored her older brother ‘Nonor’.
‘Bollix’ is tender, heartbreaking – and brutally honest. Nic doesn’t hold back on how strongly she expressed her emotions at the very worst times, nor the anger that she took out on the closest friends who supported her through her grief and her health challenges. “That’s the human side of it. When you’re hurting, you get angry.” She knows that true friends and family understand, and that you return their friendship and support later. “I hope I hit the balance right,” she says.
While Nic coped with a series of life crises as a solo mother, her parents were still living in Northern Ireland; they flew to New Zealand at times when she needed them most. But above all, she credits her friends with getting her through the last 20-plus years. “I wouldn’t be here if not for my friends,” she says. “We’re still in contact, and they mean a lot. People I’ve met in my life have been so kind, so loving.”
“My friends are like an orchestra,” she adds. At every crisis, and never more so than after her heart transplant, friends stepped in to help in myriad ways. There was a “conductor” who sorted a roster, and allocated tasks: who was best to cook meals, walk the dog, do the garden… And there were others, equally valuable, who were simply there to listen and to talk.
Nic’s message is that whatever life throws at you, “you’ve still got to live life and function in society”. And now, with a diagnosis of Parkinson’s disease, she makes the most of the time she has, even as she makes adjustments to accommodate her changing physical condition.
Asked if she has any advice for others – or for their friends and family – going through hard times, Nic is clear. To friends, she says, “Don’t tell people what to do. Just be a useful human – people don’t need useless platitudes. Sit, listen, and don’t say stupid shite.
“Everybody’s story is their life’s story. I’ve leaned into friends and the outdoors. For others it will be writing, music…. You need to find something to get through it. Ask for help when you need it. You’ve got to keep living till you feel alive again – because you will.”
And as ‘Bollix’ makes clear, that’s just what Nic Russell has done.
‘Bollix When life isn’t all it’s craic’d up to be’ by Nic Russell is launched this month.
Kenzie’s Gift offers grief and mental health support to help young Kiwis and their whānau navigate the toughest times.
kenziesgift.com
