In Other Words

Recently, I have had a number of my pieces translated into Spanish. Much of my inspiration and stories come from the many years I lived in Mexico with a Mexican family. Through a skilled and passionate Literature student, Jorge, I have been able to bring my words to that family.

Now that I see myself in Spanish, I consider this “writing thing” that I do in a much different light.

I didn’t know how my stories would sound like in Spanish, but I was not ready for my own reaction when I read the first translated story, Table For Five. It was as though Jorge had reached into my chest, grabbed my heart and wrapped it around my soul. In my soul, he found my words and caressed them in Spanish and laid them on pages before me. It was me. My essence, my feelings, my words. In Spanish.

I suddenly felt exposed. To think that this young student, who doesn’t know me except by email correspondence has not only felt what I have written, but he has shown me my own words. The translations have made me realize that in any language, this is what we do as writers. We bring ourselves to others. It is a brave thing to do, to let others see us so unclothed and real.