(yours truly)
Last week, my 15-year-old sons and I took beginner tennis lessons. It was a fun but challenging week. We learned new skills such as forehand, backhand, volley, and serve. We felt muscles we didn't know existed.
As we progressed through the week, I experienced the same emotions I experience with each new writing endeavor:
Hope
On the morning of our first lesson, as we learned simple things, I was hopeful for what the week would bring. I imagined my skills growing each day, and how much fun my sons and I would have when we conquered the tennis court. Heck, with a cute tennis skirt and a visor, what could go wrong? I was an eager student.
When I first began writing seriously, I was also hopeful. I marinated in each new writing skill, knowing I was working my way toward something important. With each writing project, I open a fresh document with high hopes and great expectancy.
Midway Blues
By the middle of our tennis lessons, I became discouraged. As the coach increased the level of difficulty, I experienced the whole "one step forward, two steps back" thing. As each new skill was taught, I struggled to remember the skills from previous lessons. I wondered why in the heck I fooled myself into thinking I could learn a new sport. I envied my sons, who are super athletic and learn such things easily.
Same with each writing project, and with my writing journey as a whole. With each new project, I reach a point when I feel discouraged and wonder how I'd ever had that initial jolt of courage. I struggle to remember each lesson I've learned, trying to perfect this skill and that technique. How did I ever think I could conquer such tasks as writing a full-length novel?
Suck it Up and Move On
During tennis, right after a brief pity party, I had to suck it up and move on. I realized I was not going to become a Williams sister in the course of one week. I learned what I could, knowing it would take practice, practice, practice. I could either focus on all I was doing wrong, or on all I'd learned in a short period of time.
Same with writing. When we hit a wall, sometimes we just have to suck it up and move on. We can't stifle our creative momentum by sulking about all we're doing wrong. We can rejoice in what we've done right, knowing we still need to practice, practice, practice.
Pride
At the end of our tennis camp, I was proud of all we'd accomplished. As our coach pointed out, we had a basic knowledge of how the sport worked. Now we could bang a few balls around the court. We had a foundation to work with. Were we skilled in the sport? Well, more than we'd been at the beginning of the week. We'd taken on the challenge of learning something new. We'd put our hearts into the lessons, and shared a lot of laughs.
With each writing project, I feel pride at several stages. Proud of the original idea. Proud of the perseverance through doubts and insecurities. Proud of the finished product. We writers should feel proud of what we accomplish, while acknowledging there's still so much to learn.
Do you experience these same emotions when writing? Have you learned a new sport or skill lately? Ever played tennis?
You nailed the process perfectly. I can apply those phases to querying as well - especially suck it up and move on as those rejections pile up.
ReplyDeleteLeslie, you're so right in that the querying process is tough. Perhaps suck up the wine while sucking it up??
DeleteI think this is true of all life's adventures!! Learn a little at a time, hope, and keep on.
ReplyDeleteTraci, so true about all of life's adventures! I love how we continue to learn new things every day. Keeps life interesting.
DeleteI really like how you related your tennis experience to writing. So true! It just proves that we must keep forging ahead, focusing on how we've improved instead of what we still need to work on.
ReplyDeleteSheri, I swear, by the end of the week I had this lightbulb moment--this is just like writing! (well, except I didn't have sore heels from writing)
DeleteNice analogy! My kids rock at tennis, but I have no coordination on the court. Still, I get the analogy! And I like the cute little skirts, too! ;)
ReplyDeleteDawn, how awesome that your kids rock it on the tennis court! That's such a great skill--one they can take with them into adulthood.
DeleteI haven't played tennis in more than twenty years, not since I took lessons. I was okay at doing the backhand, but everything else was more difficult. I can definitely relate to the midway blues; I think that's where I'm at right now, to the point that it's affected my blogging and other writing too. It's hard to escape the midway blues sometimes.
ReplyDeleteOh, I hear ya on the blogging. I haven't been a very good blogger friend lately. But you know what? We do what we can. You'll make it out of these midway blues. Just keep forging ahead.
DeleteYes! Learning anything new is such a challenge and those stages are universal. I played on a tennis team once upon a time, but injuries forced me off the court years and years ago. Love watching though!
ReplyDeleteJemi, that's so cool that you were on a tennis team! Get this--I still don't even know how to keep score. There's still a lot to learn :)
DeleteYes, I think this is all true for anything we learn. I can totally relate to it all from getting through the learning curve of my new job as a non fiction writer.
ReplyDeleteI believe you've identified the writers' trail all right! Very familiar sign posts.
ReplyDeleteBeing a tennis lunatic, I really enjoyed both these posts! I love the analogy, especially the "midway blues." I also appreciate the forgiveness you imply and suggest we give ourselves for not being perfect and/or consistent and focusing on what we accomplish rather than where we might be lacking. It's all about practice and never underestimating our need to keep learning (as writers and tennis players)!
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