This week I’m a little caught up in a very important milestone—my 30th wedding anniversary. First of all, I can’t believe I’m that old. And second, I’m pretty proud to have made it this far, seeing as how lots of my friends have been divorced. So even though I want to focus on writing, I’m distracted by this momentous occasion. So I thought, why not combine the two?
I've compared writing to gardening, parenting, and a host of other long-term occupations. Marriage has many similarities, as well.
Like, it’s hard. That’s kind of cheating; everything really worth doing is hard. But I think a lot of people enter into marriage in that deliriously happy stage of love where everything is sunshine and roses and they can never imagine how hard it will be at times. It’s all so easy in those new love moments. Writing is the same. I know hundreds of folks who think writing is the easiest thing in all the world. I mean, everyone does it, right? Facebook, twitter, everywhere you look, people are writing. Which is great. But they aren’t really writing that well, nor are they writing with a book length manuscript in mind. Nor do they have to revise (although sometimes they really should) or work with an editor or make sure their characters are consistent. Writing is just as hard as any other work, more so than some. No one would say playing the violin in the New York Philharmonic is so easy anyone could do it. Really good writers work equally hard on our craft as professional musicians or professionals of any kind. Because it’s hard.
Successful marriages don’t just happen. They are in need of constant attention and dedication. Same for writing (and any artistic form). You have to practice it, do it consistently, pay attention to it, and work on it. You don’t sit down, write one draft, and call it good. Just as you don’t recite your vows, buy a house, and that’s it. You have to think about it all the time. I’m constantly writing in my head, even when I’m not at the computer or with a pen in hand. I’m always asking my characters how they would react to a certain situation. I’m communicating with my work. Just as I communicate with my husband all the time about various things big and little in our lives.
Marriage is a partnership, and sometimes others are needed to help the marriage thrive: counselors, friends, family. Writing is a collaborative process, in the end. Sure, we all sit at our desks and write as solitary beings. But to bring that work to the world requires the help of critique friends, editors, agents, production staff, sales staff, etc. It may feel like a lone wolf profession, but even self-publishing authors should seek the help and support of all those people in order to produce the best work possible.
Delayed gratification is a hallmark of both a successful marriage and a successful writing life. Or, as the Rolling Stones sing, “You can’t always get what you want.” You know what I’m talking about. There’s rejection, over and over again. Even when your work is acquired, there are often years of work still ahead before it hits the shelves. Marriage works the same way. It’s not a finished product, ever. It’s always in a state of revision or work in progress. You don’t just get married and have the white picket fence dream at once. Sometimes you live in your parents’ basement until you can afford a house. Or sometimes you put off having children until you are done with graduate school. Or sometimes you never get the “dream house” you have always wanted. Sometimes you drive a broken down car instead of a new one in order to send your kids to college. Life is full of delayed gratification in order to achieve a goal or a dream. I wish more writers understood this. New writers, myself included all those many years ago, are so eager and anxious to get published that they send work out that isn't even near ready for publication. Delay that gratification and work on the writing. The rewards are great in the end.
In marriage, as in writing, it is totally acceptable to celebrate every small step toward success. Our first anniversary, we celebrated enormously. One whole year. Wow! The first time I got paid to write, I was so happy. Yes, celebrate each milestone, knowing that many more will come your way if you keep working hard, putting in the time and energy, focusing on growth and renewal, and waiting for the right time to move ahead.
by Neysa CM Jensen
(in Boise, Idaho)
I’m on holiday, I’ve decided. I don’t want to think about books. That means I don’t want to think about writing them, researching for them, publishing them, most definitely not marketing them and not even reading them [because the minute I start reading, I want to write]. I don’t want to think about the grand e-books versus dead-tree book debate. I don’t want to analyse my reader statistics. I don’t want to work the social networks, certainly not after the bout of cyber-bullying I’ve just been through [if you want to know more about this, go to my August 21st post on Authors Electric].
I’ve had it with all that. It’s August. I want fun.
But what do authors do when they want fun [answers please on a postcard, or the comments section below this post will do]? Well, this author weaves. It’s something I used to do when I was young, but my loom was stolen when our house was burgled and until a couple of years ago, I couldn’t afford to replace it. Now, however, I have two looms – one for cloth, the other for woven tapestries. And for the last two years, I’ve been weaving for an exhibition that [panic] is coming up next month.
Tapestry weaving is very slow. You sit at a loom all day, as I did yesterday, and weave no more than a foot square at most. In this respect, it’s not much different to writing a novel. In order to do it, you have to be comfortable with delayed gratification. A tapestry can take months before it’s ready to cut off the loom. But, slow or not, it’s the perfect antidote to writing because it has no words. It’s the perfect escape. It’s better than the gym - which is where I used to go when I wanted to escape the novels writing themselves in my head, refusing to stop when the computer was switched off.
It’s another world entirely. One beyond words, where colour tells the stories and shape and texture all have interesting things to say. Over the last couple of years, I’ve been working with the Burleigh Map of Tudor Shrewsbury, a small illustrated map of the town within the river loop, all its main streets and alleys still clearly identifiable today, breaking it into sections, blowing these up and turning them into a series tapestries.
It’s extraordinary to think that this ancient map - commissioned by William Cecil as a gift for Elizabeth I - outlines a town that still is recognisable. It’s not just the castle that I’ve woven, the churches and the ancient bridges [not to say anything of a few enormous swans], but shutts and passages that can still be found today and houses that I’ve been into myself and know well.
Now I’m busy framing, ready for my exhibition, and the walls are filling up with the labours of my last two years. They’re not abstract tapestries. They all tell stories which are plain to see. I might be able to shake off words, but not my sense of narrative. Even as a weaver, I’m an author too.
I first fell in love with tapestry when, as a young weaver, I came across the weavers of Harania in Egypt. Their vibrant tapestries, I discovered to my astonishment, had been produced by children. Not child slave-workers, I hasten to add, but free children, working freely and creatively. Extraordinarily, these children’s weavings weren’t part of a local tradition. The village of Harania had no such tradition - which was why it had been selected for a great experiment.
In mid-twentieth century Egypt, Wissa Wassa Wassef was a figure of William Morris stature. Wanting to prove that innate creative ability lies within all of us, he taught the principles of weaving to any of Harania’s children who were interested, provided them with materials and undertook to buy everything they made. His only provisos were that the children should not look at works of art to find their inspiration, and that they shouldn’t make designs in advance but make design part of the weaving process, working directly on the loom.
The results of this experiment are quite literally stunning. Do click the link above, to the Wissa Wassef Art Centre just outside Cairo for a real feast. You’ll be missing out if you don’t. As an untutored artist, I found myself overwhelmed with inspiration and determined to weave in the same way. And when Harania came to London, I went down to the Barbican, met the weavers – all adults now and since then a second generation of child weavers have become adults too - watched them at their looms, their fingers flying, and came away with everything I could buy – postcards, posters, even one of the tapestries [which cost a lot at the time but, believe me, is worth a lot more now]. Weaving has been good to the people of Harania. And they’ve been good to the world of contemporary tapestry. Tapestry is an ancient art form. The Greeks considered it a vital element of interior decoration, the Romans valued tapestries so highly that they imported them from across the known world and back through the centuries, palaces and stately homes across Europe have all been decorated with tapestries.
Into the twentieth century, weavers like the great Frenchman, Jean Lurcat and the Polish weaver, Tadek Beutlich, have inspired a whole army of modern-day tapestry weavers. I know this for a fact, because I’ve recently become a member of the British Tapestry Group, and the range of work to be found in the UK today - not to say anything of the work coming out of the American Tapestry Alliance and other groups world wide - is absolutely breathtaking. If you’re lucky enough to live within reach of Edinburgh, do visit the Dovecot’s ‘Weaving the Century’ Exhibition, which is on until the end of the month. The Dovecot was set up by Archie Brennan. Do Google it or him. And whilst you’re at it, google Jean Lurcat too [here's an interesting link to a YouTube tour of his most famous 'Song of the World' tapestries], and the mighty French town of Angiers along with the word ‘tapestry’ and astonish yourself with the range of weavings – both medieval and twentieth century, that come up. There’s a place I’ve got to visit. What a feast! 
And, on a more mundane level, if you want to see what I’ve been up to, HERE is the link. The exhibition ‘Shropshire Yarns is a collaborative venture between myself and two other tapestry weavers, both members of the British Tapestry Group. It’s our homage to a grand tradition and a celebration of Shropshire’s ancient history in the woollen and flax trade. Our exhibition will be on from 10th September to 13th October. The others have exhibited before, nationally and internationally, but this is a new departure for me. I may have been weaving on and off for years, but this is my first proper exhibition – and I feel terrified and vulnerable, but very excited too. Our Private View will be on Friday 7thSeptember, between 6.00 and 8.00pm. If you live close enough, do come along. And if you don’t – well, wish me luck.
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Oooh lovely! I really like the red bird.
I knit - so my eye was caught by the word "yarn". My creative side comes out there too. I can never use other people's patterns - although I might get inspiration from them - but a round or two of cables or yarn overs is good diversional therapy when the writing is not working.
Fascinating post! Thank you so much. I love tapestries and weaving, though I've never done any. I was so inspired by the story of the child weavers of Harania. Wonderful.
Wonderful! Absolutely wonderful!
Fascinating! What a wonderful skill to have acquired!
Fascinating! What a wonderful skill to have acquired!
Looks amazing!
This is almost my ideal post, Pauline! I like knitting but am MAD about tapestry theoretically, and as a spectator and used it a lot in my novel ITHAKA. The thing about Penelope weaving tapestries in exactly the same way you're doing makes me shiver!! Loved the Egyptian site and their work is amazing. I WISH that I could come to your exhibition....if you have postcards of your work I'd love to buy some...I am full of admiration for you!
Beautiful tapestries. I love to do patchwork and make bags and stuff for my children. I think my sewing informs my writing somehow ... it's useful to have another creative outlet.
Burgulars stole your LOOM? That must be a first!
Fascinating post - thank you!
Susan - they also stole our harmonium, David's saxophone, our old station clock, my clothes, our Coalport china - just about everything in those long-ago days when we didn't have much that we actually cared about. I, too, was incredulous at some of the things that went. I spent days staring at the screws, which were all that remained of my taken-apart loom, thinking, 'I must be imagining this.'
Adele - I've never likened myself to Penelope, but I shall from now on. I'm planning on getting cards printed, so will send you some [note to self]. Thanks for your kind words. Thanks, too, for the tweets.
Susan - they also stole our harmonium, David's saxophone, our old station clock, my clothes, our Coalport china - just about everything in those long-ago days when we didn't have much that we actually cared about. I, too, was incredulous at some of the things that went. I spent days staring at the screws, which were all that remained of my taken-apart loom, thinking, 'I must be imagining this.'
Adele - I've never likened myself to Penelope, but I shall from now on. I'm planning on getting cards printed, so will send you some [note to self]. Thanks for your kind words. Thanks, too, for the tweets.
Pauline your work - written and wonven is beautiful!
Wonderful post, your work, woven and written is beautiful!
Oh, what beautiful tapestries! And how exciting that your exhibition will be at The Gateway! I shall definitely come, Pauline, though unfortunately I can't make it to the private view.
In awe. x