Congratulations to Amy Turner for having their following memoir chosen for publication on Blank Canvas Post. The memoir that follows is a truly wonderful exploration of growth, challenge, and colourful living. Please read the follow conversation between us at Blank Canvas Post and Amy Turner to understand more about the writer and the context for this brilliant memoir.
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Writer Spotlight: Amy Turner
From North Devon in the UK, Amy Turner has been writing since childhood. “As a child, I spent hours writing journals, copying out poetry and quotes and writing stories”, says Amy Turner. “Many of my childhood memories are of me, outside, with either a pen or a book in hand. As I have grown older, writing has continued to be an essential part of who I am and how I live. In my twenties, I started a blog, where I continue to celebrate the small things bringing me joy, express my pain, review books, and reflect on anything and everything. This blog - www.lifelived.live - has been a beautiful way to practise mindfulness and appreciate the fullness of life. As I have got older, I have written in other places too, and experimented with various genres”.
What was it that made you start writing?
A love of words is part of who I am as a person. Perhaps it is genetic, because there are writers who have gone before me in my family. My great-grandfather was an eccentric butcher's son, who bought a newspaper and wrote a plethora of relatively niche but wonderful books about local history and his love of animals; his brother was a famous novelist.
I was also fortunate enough to have this natural love of words and stories nurtured. My parents and grandparents kept me well-stocked in books, so that I was always up late reading the latest one. From the midnight feasts of Malory Towers and the adventures of the Famous Five, to the rugged countryside of Lorna Doone, Heidi's mountain goats and Arrietty's escapades in The Borrowers, I was hooked. In my teenage years, the Bronte sisters, Agatha Christie, and a huge range of other writers kept me captivated in the pages of books. Over the years, my reading taste has diversified and books have opened up other places, other people's experiences, and other ways of seeing the world. They have given me empathy and made me feel less alone.
It isn't only novels that grip me. In my younger years, I also had a passion for theatre and loved how stories could be told on stage. I thought it was magical. My faith as a Christian also helped to shape me, as a person and as a writer, because it is a faith that is best understood through its stories and poetry. I identify with Mary Oliver's words, 'there are so many stories more beautiful than answers', and I quote these words relentlessly. In fact, in my adult years, poetry - particularly Mary Oliver's poetry - has been a life-buoy to me.
All this is to say, I write because I love reading, and I love writing. I started to write when I was younger, because the love of words was already there, and writing has now become a way of life that I could not go without.
What experiences have you had that have shaped the writer you are today?
Whilst I appreciate my diverse writing experiences - such as writing on my blog and other online platforms, academic writing, writing for Christian devotionals, and working on books (as yet unpublished) - the experiences that have most shaped my writing are my lived experiences.
Perhaps most of all, my experiences of infertility, ectopic pregnancy and, later, adoption, have pushed me to write more. However, many aspects of my life make their way into my writing (and then, my writing permeates my life). My work as a teacher for children with special needs is never far from the words I write. My love of animals is there, too. And perhaps the most persistent recurring theme in my work is my love of the outdoors and nature.
My life experiences have brought a much keener awareness of my own humanity and that of others. I believe that it is this human spirit that stirs creativity within us. It inspires the love and compassion that can so often bring colour, light and shade to our writing.
What genres are you writing at the moment? What genres do you enjoy writing?
I write non-fiction in a range of ways, including reflections, book reviews and memoir. These kinds of writing have been an important part of processing my experiences, seeking hope and sharing ideas with others. I also love poetry and write it regularly. I occasionally write short stories and am currently working on several ideas for novels. This is the genre that is perhaps closest to my heart as a reader.
What inspires you to write? Where do you take your inspiration from?
My reading, the people in my life, my faith and my day-to-day experiences all inspire my writing. However, perhaps my strongest source of inspiration is nature and the outdoors. This might be a short blog post about picking blackberries, a poem about the hummingbird hawk-moth, or a story set by the sea. The natural world brings me great joy and a deep sense of connection and belonging. I believe my words flow most freely when I am writing about these things.
What does your writing process look like (e.g., environment, tools, setting)?
I write when and where I can. Often, this will be by the dim light of my phone as I sit in my children’s bedrooms helping them to fall asleep. I have notebooks around the house and carry them in my bag, and I jot things down in odd, snatched moments in the midst of busy life. When I do get the opportunity, I sit at my laptop and become hyper focused on my work, with children and animals coming and going around me. I have a beautiful desk that my husband made out of scrap wood, painted in shades of blue, white and green. It still has that lovely smell of pine wood. I don’t often sit there, though, as my children like me to be nearby. I tend to anchor myself at the kitchen table or on the sofa with a blanket and a dog or a cat. I surround myself with books, get outside often, and drink copious amounts of strong, black coffee.
What do you envisage when you are writing something new? Are you writing with the intention of sharing your work, or are you simply writing to write, for example?
I love the poem by W.B. Yeats, in which he writes, "All the words that I gather, and all the words that I write, must spread out their wings untiring, and never rest in their flight, till they come where your sad, sad heart is, and sing to you in the night..." Many books and poems have reached my heart in this way, giving me comfort, hope and human connection. Often, when I write, this is my longing: to send out words into the world that speak light into other people's hearts.
Often, I write for myself, because writing is the surest way I know to untangle and express the thoughts and feelings that are knotting themselves up inside me. Sometimes, this results in something I can share on my blog or social media platforms that may uplift others.
And then, there is the dream that perhaps all writers cherish: the dream of the published book. I ache to hold my own book in my hands: a real book with that real book smell and pages you can turn and a beautiful cover. I am, first and foremost, a reader, and if I can make anything in my life, a real book is what I would like to make. More than that, I want to be able to place that book in the hands of my parents and grandparents, who inspired and nurtured my love of words and stories.
Why do you think community is important for writers and creative people?
In a world that is often fixated on ‘likes and subscribes’, genuine community is life giving. It helps us to focus instead on creativity, kindness and joy. Reading others’ work and sharing ideas can be a great inspiration and encouragement, breathing life into our work. I love that community can help us to find our unique voices as writers and to have the confidence to use those voices.
Where do you currently share you work?
I share my writing online at www.lifelived.live, and on Substack https://substack.com/@amyturner971599. I also occasionally write for The Upper Room (BRF Ministries).
Why did you submit your work to Blank Canvas Post? What drew you to our publication?
I loved the positive, community focused ethos of Blank Canvas Post and the commitment to giving people opportunities to share their creativity.
About the Memoir: Horseshoes
Regarding Horseshoes, what inspired you to write this piece?
This piece was inspired by the process of making a garden together with my adopted children. Of course, this garden also served as a metaphor for the growth and joy that can spring up out of imperfect or chaotic situations.
Also contained within this piece are memories of a sad and traumatic time, when I lost an IVF baby, through ectopic pregnancy, on Mothers' Day. Strangely, I received confirmation that Blank Canvas Post would share my piece, ten years later, on Mother's Day.
This piece is about not being defined by our worst experiences, though we carry them with us. It is about cultivating beautiful, hope-filled lives in spite of sad and sorrowful things.
What is the context for this piece? What is the main feeling or message behind it?
This piece was inspired by the process of making a garden together with my adopted children. Of course, this garden also served as a metaphor for the growth and joy that can spring up out of imperfect or chaotic situations.
Also contained within this piece are memories of a sad and traumatic time, when I lost an IVF baby, through ectopic pregnancy, on Mothers' Day. Strangely, I received confirmation that Blank Canvas Post would share my piece, ten years later, on Mother's Day.
This piece is about not being defined by our worst experiences, though we carry them with us. It is about cultivating beautiful, hope-filled lives in spite of sad and sorrowful things.
What was the process of writing this piece like for you? What did this process look like?
I wrote this piece several years ago, as a simple expression of the joy and hope I felt as I watched those gardens spring up.
Why did you choose to submit this piece specifically to Blank Canvas Post?
I felt that it might resonate with your positive ethos.
So, without further ado, here is Horseshoes, a memoir by Amy Turner.
Horseshoes, by Amy Turner
We don’t believe in luck until we are unlucky. The fertility doctor shuffles his papers, looks me in the eye and says, “This is very unlucky. You are very unlucky.” He even illustrates his point with statistics. I’m not a numbers person, so the stats go in one ear and out the other, but the words, they stick.
After that, a jagged unease settles itself around my chest. It is there as I drive to work, as we make return visits to the clinic and at the supermarket as I distractedly shove packets of pasta into the trolley. It is still there, months later, as I place fir boughs over the fireplace and up the banister, add twinkling lights and fill our home with friends for Christmas.
I sit with a counsellor and I counsel myself, too. I pray and I talk with friends and I hold their babies. I read a lot. I live my life. I reject that word, unlucky. I see clearly: luck is not always about getting what you thought you wanted. I am sad sometimes and there’s a space and a yearning, but my heart is full as well as empty. I take up a new word for myself: I am not unlucky. I am blessed. Yet I am not the same as I was before. Hovering around my heart there is always the worry.
A couple of years pass and the children arrive: tiny people with huge baggage, toddling through our front door, wide eyed. They are the perfect match for us. They are traumatised, but glorious.
So much joy, so much love, a lot of hard work and heart-ache too, and also the anxiety, the threat of misfortune, like black ice at the edges of it all.
Time moves on, and we all grow in our ways. The long-suffering dog develops endearing grey chin hairs. Lines form around our eyes. I suddenly feel too old for short, denim skirts, but quite at home in the local garden centre, and I’m always in bed by ten thirty. The children gain height, volume and velocity.
They are seven and five and we’re in a new house and making a garden. We drag in old tractor tyres and fill them with earth. We sit on a rug in cool, March sunshine and fill a tray with pots and impossibly small seeds. Compost is everywhere; water too.
Soon, we have a tiny jungle on a windowsill, and we head outside one day to plant out the seedlings. They are placed chaotically, riotously, with a reckless sense of childish hope. We watch and wait and water.
Our boy paints a bird feeder a bold blue and green and hangs it up. My husband builds a playhouse. We all help shore up the bank between the garden and the field. Wildflowers spring up there.
Life continues, with school runs and new jobs and housework and holidays. The anxiety is strong on some days, barely there on others. But in the garden, it always retreats.
One day, the children are out and about in the field beyond the garden. They run in excitedly. “Look what we found!” In their hands are two old horseshoes, rusty but solid. An image flickers across my mind’s eye: horses pulling a plough. These fields have been farmed a long time; the hedges around our garden have seen and heard a lot. Humans living here, growing things, passing through, passing on. Seasons lurching into one another.
The children add the horseshoes proudly to their gardens for decoration, along with the brightly coloured windmills we bought on sale.
Summer comes. Baby rabbits play in the garden, a young woodpecker feeds on the blue and green birdfeeder. Goldfinches and swallows are busy in the field. So much colour and life.
The tyre gardens are a tumble of flowers and vegetables. Sunflowers, tall, with the slightest glimpse of yellow. Any day now, they’ll burst open, all bold and bright. Blue cornflowers (that perfect, vivid shade of blue). And there are the yellows and purples and pinks of pansies, petunias and begonias and sprawling, orange nasturtium. A bean plant climbs its poles and flowers promisingly. Carrots shoot out. We harvest crisp lettuce leaves.
And in amongst the tangle of growth, the two lucky horseshoes arch like rainbows in the soil.
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I like the slices of life in the piece - and in the interview as well. Very effective.
Just wonderful -- beautifully written and held together by the underlying themes of joy and sadness, luck and what it means to be unlucky. Above all is the horseshoe, which becomes a symbol of what it means to be blessed.