New Eyes

A couple of weeks ago, a friend told me a story a buddy shared with him.

This buddy served in the navy aboard a submarine. It takes a certain kind of person to live underwater in a 500-foot tube with 150 or more people you may or may not like for deployments of ninety days. I can’t fathom it.

A couple of weeks ago, a friend told me a story a buddy shared with him.

This buddy served in the navy aboard a submarine. It takes a certain kind of person to live underwater in a 500-foot tube with 150 or more people you may or may not like for deployments of ninety days. I can’t fathom it.

Anyway, this buddy said the submarine needed a part to repair something on the vessel, but the sailors could not find it. They knew it had to be on the sub. Where else could it be? It didn’t fall overboard.

So, the entire crew continued to look and look for three long weeks. They looked everywhere—no part.

Finally, in desperate need, the submarine returned to the base.

Before being given a replacement part, a small team not assigned to the sub came aboard to look.

They found the missing part in three minutes—three minutes—when the crew had searched for three weeks. They could do so because they had new eyes.

So, why am I talking about submarines and missing parts, and what does it have to do with writing? A lot.

We know all the nooks and crannies of our writing. We know the story behind the story, but a pair of eyes belonging to someone who doesn’t sees what we cannot.

That’s why it helps to have the right people read your work and provide constructive feedback.

Remember always: The only way to do this wrong is to not do it at all! Until next time, happy writing!