Loud & Clear
The Ruins of a Villanelle
“We're all islands shouting lies to each other across seas of misunderstanding.” ― Rudyard Kipling, The Light That Failed
When we casually say, “I read you loud and clear,” do we know what we mean?
How legible are we? More importantly, how legible have we ever been?
To be read is one thing; to be read loud and clear—almost obscene.
After all, we don’t generally wish to be misread. Unread? You might as well be dead.
But casual summaries will usually suffice. You don’t have to have the whole thing read.
Most of the early chapters are shit. I wasn’t sure what I was writing; I just wanted to be read.
The later stuff is better, sure. But then I had a plan. Or several at once, in most cases. I was read.
Not widely, sure. Not too well, either. But I had time. I was quite sure I soon would be, well, read.
Well insofar as I would have time to read much more, and also, I would be read as I was not.
Before--with understanding of the parts and how they make a whole
From phrases to pages, I’d be read, then known—then understood
That third bit is the hardest and it must always be third
Before it arrives, the others know what they are doing, but not why
They strut and fret at length until, eventually, they die—we’ve read them, but not well—I mean
Just between us, we knew them well enough to know we knew enough;
You know, based on what we’ve skimmed so far
We should see the novel shrinking to the size of a haiku, just as we figure out what it is we’re trying to do
Don’t panic, though: when your word count exceeds the maximum, just make what’s shorter, better
Review. Then, revise.
Remember: words are limited; don't make every letter new.
Know why you are writing, and you’ll be read, well…reviewed.
About the Creator
D. J. Reddall
I write because my time is limited and my imagination is not.
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Comments (6)
This year was the year I gave up trying to be understood by anyone, in my writing and in my personal life. I realized how much I cared what others thought, and how very lonely that is. It was blocking me from authentically expressing myself in my relationships and in my art. Worrying about how I’d be perceived killed my creativity—and I realized it had for most of my life. Not just in the sense of writing, but in all forms of creation. Like creating the life I wanted for myself. Because all my choices were based upon, “Will people understand me doing this? Or will I be judged? Will I be ignored? Will my actions be misinterpreted? What choices can I make to get the most respect, approval, applause, or acknowledgment?” I think the worst writing advice we’re given is to know our audience. Most people don’t even know themselves. We can never know how to make another person happy, or what an audience wants. There’s such freedom of expression, such joy, in expressing your truest self without hesitation. There’s no use in forming fake friendships with those who pretend to resonate with you, or amassing “subscribers” who just endlessly scroll through a feed out of boredom. When you find even one person who draws value from what you’ve offered, that’s more rewarding than a group of people halfheartedly giving “likes.” You proved your point with this poem, letting it flow naturally, and getting such genuine engagement from it. 🤍
After just being freshly misunderstood by someone, I have to admit, it'd be nice to be properly read. I feel like I'm pretty genuine. I don't mince my words or use colorful wordplay. There aren't ulterior motives in my actions. I don't see the point in lies (even when we think we're doing someone a favor, because who are we to assume another's capacity to digest the truth? And honestly, who is lying benefitting?). I'm basically what you see is what you get. Like me or don't. Anyway, back to what you were saying- I agree. We're reviewed, not understood. I feel like a lot of people nowadays project their own experiences and feelings onto others even when they're absolutely wrong. Reading someone with cynical glasses on- if you will. But I guess those are mistakes they'll eventually have to learn from, and remove their cynical glasses if they want to see a person for who they are. Great message, D.J. I'm really enjoying learning your mind. It's a refreshing contrast to what I'm used to. And sorry if my rant was a little too much. As I said... my wound is still fresh... This felt like a safe place to get my woes off my chest...
Ah, yes, reviewed. I find that it often does come down to a test of worthiness, reading, especially here where one must pick whom he reads with care, so as not to be overwhelmed with the kind of work that does not inspire. That Kipling quote is fantastic; what an image. I'm inclined to agree, though it's extremely satisfying when the islands can whisper and the seas turn tide to understanding. It's rare, but I've had it happen. Takes islands of a kind, I think. Yes, I agree, so much is overwritten these days. Now more than ever I have a greater appreciation for the term "slush pile." Having to brush past the slush to get to solid ground (I think that metaphor works, haha). Your idea of shrinking the novel down to a haiku until you've figured out what you're doing is great advice. Less is so often more. I truly appreciate the shorter forms when they're done well, as they tend to be written with much more care, intention, and artistry than longer forms that take the length and space for granted. I often wonder if I have enough to say that could be justified as a novel. At this point, the answer is no! It takes a certain awareness of narrative to be able to draw it out long, at least in my opinion. And then, there's the issue of being understood. What a treacherous past time is writing, eh? Aw, I'd have liked to have seen this as a villanelle. Do you feel the form you landed on detracts from your original intention?
To be read to be understood - a lofty goal. To be read to be partially understood perhaps.
I love the quote at the start. I'm curious about exactly what you mean here. Do you feel like readers do not fully engage anymore? Do you feel like brevity is the key to being read? I think in some ways that is true on this platform. Are we all clamouring to be heard? Mmm, this has made me thoughtful.
Thank you for this reminder.