Taking Up the Challenge

Turning up and taking part is often a challenge, sometimes it’s huge fun and at other times it feels momentous. I took part in the Gibraltar International Conference 4 at the University of Cádiz earlier this month, and, even though I could only attend online, I think I could say I felt all of those things.

The challenge was presenting a paper I had researched and written on Gibraltarian women writers, discussing whether they are as widely-read or even widely-published as the men. I have a university education but have never presented an academic paper on anything before, let alone address it to a roomful of students, professors, literary critics, and leading Gibraltarian literary figures. It wasn’t just a challenge. I may have been sitting in the comfort of my living room on the other side of a screen, but it was daunting.

Writing, being a writer, seeking publication, daring to make public your words is in itself a challenge. As soon as you publish something, anything, whether it’s a book or a short poem, an article in a local magazine or a social media post your words are open to critique, analysis, commentary and subjected to the offering of subjective opinions in a public forum. It is part of the craft that makes it emotionally daring.

Writers sweat blood and tears deciding on whether they feel confident to publish any particular piece. In fact, ‘confidence’ doesn’t always come into it; if we wait to feel confident, many of us wouldn’t do it. Instead we publish, in whatever way we can, or we submit work to agencies and publishing houses, in the full knowledge that our creations are going to be torn apart by people who will not shy from telling the world just what they think. We also subject ourselves to rejection each time we submit a piece of work, or to have it heavily edited so that it fits the publication. Writing should never be thought of as cushy, or comfortable, or easy. Quite the contrary. To then present your work in public, face to face to those who are there to analyse and critique it, is tough. I personally found it terrifying. Until I got going, that is, and then I got so engrossed in what I was talking about that I forgot about the calibre of my listeners and just got on with it. The discussion afterwards was interesting, initial reactions to the subject matter was mixed. That was the ideal outcome: I had never intended to convince people of anything, instead, I had aimed to have them question the status quo and work out their own responses. I think it worked. Challenge taken, trepidation overcome.

The brilliant Humbert Hernandez discussing his books at the Gibraltar International Conference 4

Afterwards, when the nerves had abated, it dawned on me just how much I had enjoyed the process. I wish I had been able to attend in person, but even online it was a privilege to be able to listen to the other speakers, the panel discussions and the exchange of ideas and opinions. On the last day of the event, many of the delegates and participants came to Gibraltar to experience the place and the people who create the literature and speak the language that were being studied. I had the pleasure of meeting them in person and taking part in a couple of the local tours and, (how could I not?) join them for a couple of copitas de vino later in the afternoon. The visit to Gibraltar was hosted by Gibraltar Cultural Services and, as usual, they did a grand job of making the group feel welcome and learn a little bit more about us and our city. So, yes, taking up the challenge of presenting the paper was also fun. Even the research, which is ongoing and may result in updating my presentation, was interesting, and the task of putting my arguments together in a coherent way was an enjoyable process. It was good to use the grey matter for something other than drafting work emails or grappling with the sonnet form and rhyming couplets.

Did taking up the challenge, did showing up at the Conference feel momentous? Definitely, at least on a personal basis for me. Over the years I have attended numerous conferences, I’ve even organised a few, and I’ve spoken at them, although these were largely associated with my working life rather than anything academic or literary. I have gathered participation certificates here and there, which are always nice, but the one that the University of Cádiz gave me feels special. It is the one that reminds me, a bit like my batchelor’s degree certificate, of the joy of putting your mind to something, showing up for yourself, and seeing it through.

This is precisely what being a writer demands of us: to show up even when the page is blank and the mind blanker still and getting some words out; taking up the challenge of shaping drivel into meaning that delivers emotional impact and resonates with the reader, creating characters that until you put pen to paper never existed but who now feel real; and then sending your work out there, into the world, and exposing it to the view of others, to critique and criticism, to opinion that is fair or otherwise. Then taking up the pen and doing it all over again regardless of the outcome. This is what taking up the challenge of writing involves.

Certificado de participación en GIC 4