There are moments in life that make all that hard work worthwhile … maybe, or maybe not. The creators amongst you will understand the absolute joy of turning a page and seeing your book, song, movie or art piece featured under a ‘Review’ heading. But then the insecurities kick in, would they like it?
Today’s innocent visit my parents house began as usual, hugs, cups of tea, home made biscuits and some assistance with a recalcitrant computer. As is usually the case, at some stage during the evening I would be presented with a pile of newspaper clippings. My parents could easily lay claim to being the original Media Monitors.
Most of the time the papers are presented at the end of the night, along with a tinfoil doggy bag of homemade morsels, predominantly afghans (the biscuits not the dogs) and chocolate chip cookies, but sometimes an ill formed experiment that didn’t go according to plan.
Years in the making this tradition comes with an unspoken belief that the paperwork constitutes ‘homework’, to be caught up on and discussed at a later date, and that the morsels should last until the next weekly visit. One of these two actions is never achieved.
Sometimes if the newspaper clipping is particularly pertinent the evening meal will be paused, the cutting retrieved from it’s special resting place on the lounge coffee table, and discussed immediately.
Perhaps you can imagine my surprise then, when a neatly cut article was thrust into my hand soon as I made it over the family threshold. Clearly this insignificantly looking piece of print was very important.
Glancing sideways I could see the remainder of the Have A Go News languishing on the kitchen table, a gapping hole left in the open page. The hole matched the piece of paper in my hand, a piece I now realised contained an image of my book 50 Ways To Grieve Your Lover.
The potential for meltdown was imminent, particularly as my brain failed to register how lovingly the article had been cut from the paper. Would it be so if the article was scathing?
Numb, I sat to read the review as my parents patiently waited for my reaction. Half way through I had to stop.
An Asian proverb was cited … ‘To know the road ahead, ask those who are coming back’.
The words floored me.
Tears that haven’t been shed for many a year resurfaced, and with them a comforting hand on the shoulder from one parent, a rub on the back from the other. Grief truly is a shared experience, shared with family, friends and complete strangers who have travelled the same path.
Reading on there were five words that I know I will keep in mind every time I panic about running another grief workshop, or struggle to get the book seen.
‘Glennys hopes that her book may help comfort and support those in need. I believe that it will.’
I know the reviewer probably won’t see this but I’d like to thank Have A Go News and Pat Paleeya in particular for the wonderful words. The fact that you appear to know a thing or two about the subject, and may have been touched by grief yourself, makes your review all the more meaningful. The lovingly cut out rectangle of paper will be stuck up on the wall to help me through the tough days.
I’d also like to take the opportunity to thank Falcon Library for inviting me to run a Grief workshop this week.
Plus the team behind the Rockingham Writers Convention where I’ll be giving a workshop on marketing.
Now enough of that, back to face another blank page.
