Sheridan Povedano set to publish her poetry collection ‘Tepatoa and Olathe’

By Sophie Macdonald

Sheridan Povedano is set to publish her poetry collection ‘Tepatoa and Olathe’, written under the guidance of the Gibraltar Cultural Service Young Writing Initiative and Mentorship Programme.

Miss Povedano will launch her book on March 17 at BookGem, when the Chronicle last spoke to her in November, her poetry collection was still in motion.

Now, at the final stages of GCS Young Writer’s Initiative, that movement has settled into something closer to resolution.

She describes the intervening months as “a process to arrive at where I am currently,” marked less by dramatic revision than by careful refinement.

Much of the work, she explained, has taken place at the level of “final readjustments, especially when it comes to structure and language such as line break and address,” a meticulous tying-up of “all loose ends.”

This period has coincided with a shift from the private to the public life of the poems.

While the changes since November may have been “immaterial,” they have nonetheless been transformative: “Knowing that my poems will be there for an audience to read completely changed my world view.”

The manuscript’s readiness, she suggested, mirrors her own sense of preparedness to publish, even if that confidence was hard-won.

Reflecting on her development over the year-long mentorship, Miss Povedano is keen to situate growth as something both communal and gradual.

She noteed that her mentor, the staff at Gibraltar Cultural Services, and her family “began to see my development, how I went improving and seeing growth,” precisely because they remained present throughout the process.

While publication brings opportunities to “develop, network and grow as an artist,” she places equal emphasis on the quieter labour behind the scenes: “going through each poem, then each draft of that poem, the way it can be understood and how my circle respond to it.”

That dialogue with readers-in-waiting, she added, holds “so much power to me as a writer but also as a Gibraltarian.”

The final stages of the collection were emotionally charged, shaped by both form and transition.

Miss Povedano recalls navigating “so many emotions,” particularly as the project shifted “from the initial idea of essays to poetry.”

Conscious of her position as “a young writer… new to the world of publishing,” she reached a turning point when she realised that the work was “no longer about myself but about my reader.”

With that awareness, she was able to “carve out my poems,” arriving at a sense of closure in “the narrator’s voice.” Although more poems could have been added, she was certain that she “knew where the collection had to end.”

Her understanding of poetry itself resists fixed definition.

Poetry may be “words on a blank sheet of paper arranged in a certain way,” but meaning, she insists, is contingent: “it may not be for another individual.”

Whether governed by rules or by their breaking, poetry can emerge in unexpected places — “the lyrics of a song or words from a text.”

Ultimately, for Miss Povedano, poetry “has a lot to do with perception,” regardless of line breaks or formal markers.

That attentiveness to voice underpins her commitment to encouraging young writers, particularly women.

She is clear-eyed about the barriers that remain: “writing, as an artform, may not be accessible to everyone.”

Women, she argued, “have vital stories to tell and these must be heard,” and should be urged to write and publish “without obscuring their narrative.”

Her message to others mirrors the advice she offers herself: “you have a story to tell. Do not be afraid. Speak up because others will join you.”