Turn it over! by Jane Walters
Some of you may know that I have recently moved house. Again. (No one could accuse my life of being boring.) Every move brings its challenges, some in the same kinds of categories: settling in, sorting out; but this one feels different. For whatever reason, I am having the mother of all clear-outs. Things I have clung onto through every storm now seem redundant. Childhood relics still amuse, but even the book of terrible, terrible poems I wrote at the age of 10 has gone – laughingly assigned to the bin, along with my dream of them being posthumously viewed as the unlikely foundation of an illustrious career.
I’m no Philistine, though, and this week I have attempted
to salvage a tapestry I stitched during my first pregnancy. It never did become
the fire-screen the pattern book promised; instead, it got caught up in a pile
of other oddments of sewing, decaying quietly together. I don’t think any soap
product could remove the damp stains, but as I gently and hopefully massaged
the bubbles into the stitches, my eye was drawn to the back of the canvas.
Seeing the reverse of the design reminded me of a prophetic word I was given some years ago. ‘You’re looking at the wrong side of the picture,’ the lady said. ‘All you can see are the knots and dead-end trails. But God is working beauty in, if you can only turn it over.’ These days, I apply such thoughts not to stitching but to writing. The lessons can feel the same. Hunched over, head-ache looming, convincing myself that every word is meaningless, pointless. I hold up the results of the latest session and am no more encouraged. But…
What if I were to turn it round? Instead of scrutinising
what I have written, why don’t I invite someone else to take a look or a
listen? I might still be looking at the reverse side of the canvas, so to speak,
but at that same moment, the other person is only seeing shape and pattern. The
picture makes sense to them and, what is more, they see things I didn’t realise
had been woven in. That part where there is the mark of a tear falling, or over
there where the words came only after great effort and surely anyone can see
the blood and sweat – all received and understood.
Sometimes, we can be so hung up on the need to edit,
edit, edit, that we miss what the apparent imperfections in our words can
convey.
Turn it round. Look at it differently. The way that your readers might.
Jane Walters is Chair of ACW and loves to encourage writers.
To hear more of her thoughts, why not come to this?
ACW
Summer Writers' Day Two (Zoom) Tickets, Sat 15 Jun 2024 at 10:00 | Eventbrite
www.janewyattwalters.com
What a lovely post of encouragement, Jane. Thanks. I always feel amazed at how readers in their review of some of my writings really prove that they did ' turn it round'! It's so exciting and encouraging. If only we, writers, can always remember that different eyes from ours will see the other side of shape, pattern and the message! I hope though, you will not regret throwing away your poetry attempts from childhood.[ Someone else might have looked on the reverse side!] Blessings.
ReplyDeleteHa, yes, they might have viewed those horrors differently! Thanks for your encouragement.
DeleteIt's a bit like when I look back at some of the stories and books I've written that only ever met with negative criticism from an agent or maybe a derogatory comment fellow-writer. I put them aside, only aware of the knots and tangles, the way they were miles away from a friendly destination. I found your last sentence very encouraging. 'Turn it round. Look at it differently. The way that your readers might.'
ReplyDelete