Writers, especially television writers, often have their characters say the wrong things to people who have just lost a loved one.

“Your father was just killed. I’m very sorry. Get over it.”

I’m paraphrasing, of course, but this is the way grief was handled in a television episode of “Hawaii Five-O” I watched recently. Steve McGarrett’s father (this is a flashback) is the first person to arrive at a murder scene. He confirms that the man is dead and then immediately says some version of the above to his young daughter.

My observation is that this is the way many writers handle scenes of grief. It’s easier to spot them on television shows than in books, since everything is netted out in a TV show. (“You’ve got one minute for the grief scene.”)

Another favorite phrase of the policeman/detective/relative/friend is, “Everything’s going to be all right.”

How ridiculous can you get? Of course, everything’s not going to be all right. Everything’s never going to be all right. You’ve just lost a loved one.

So how should a writer handle scenes of grief? I work as a volunteer listener at a crisis hotline where we take phone calls from people who want to talk about their problems. Many of them are grieving. We teach a class in listening for our new volunteers. Everybody should take this class, especially writers.

Our listeners handle calls from people who are grieving by listening to them. Grief-stricken people aren’t looking for advice; they want somebody to understand their feelings—to empathize with what they are going through. They want someone who is there for them, not preaching to them.

They don’t want to be judged about whether they are grieving properly. “You’ll get over it.”

Wrong.

They are never going to get over it. The grief from losing a loved one is always going to be with them in some form.

There are supposedly five stages of grieving: denial, anger, bargaining, depression, acceptance. That reduces grieving to something mechanical. “Get past these stages and you’ll be fine.” Unfortunately, it doesn’t work that way. People may go through these stages in any order. They may skip some, altogether, and return to others, even much later.

One television show that at least gets it partially right is “Crossing Jordan.” My wife and I came late to this show and watch it on Netflix. At least it has a grief counselor who listens to people who come into the morgue to identify a loved one. That doesn’t mean the show doesn’t fall into the trap of advice and judgment from time to time.

A writer who has a character consoling a person in grief, assuming that character is doing it correctly, would have the consoler do the following: really listen to the person who is grieving, acknowledge his feelings, empathize with him—but don’t preach, give advice or judge him.

Doing those things takes time, and television shows don’t have much time, but that is no excuse for getting it wrong.

I shouldn’t say this because I have relatives and friends who are therapists, but if everyone learned how to listen properly we wouldn’t need as many therapists.