Progress report: Balls and perseverance

Netball: like basketball, only harder

No one would call me athletic these days, but in my middle school years in England, I loved to play sports: tennis, field hockey, and netball. I enjoyed the fun, the energetic running down the pitch or across the court with my teammates, and even the occasional victory in a match. 

One time, my class was practising netball in advance of a competition and I was scoring lots of points, which means I was getting the ball into the hoop that does not have a backboard. My performance was good enough that the coach picked me to be the goal shooter in an upcoming match. This turned out to be unfortunate, as my performance during the competition did not match my scoring streak during practice. What might have been skill turned out to have been pure luck. 

These days, my sport is writing, my moves are fingers on a keyboard, and my performance is more even. Unlike netball, which I abandoned after that school year, I have persevered with my writing, educated myself on the craft, and am scoring some victories in the field of readership. Next May will mark this blog’s fifth anniversary of continual publication. On September 28 (tomorrow), I have a piece coming out on Brevity Blog. And in mid-October, The Globe and Mail will publish a personal essay of mine on their First Person page. 

These writing ‘victories’ are joyous and motivational, but they are also only fleeting hits of success in the ongoing practice of writing. While I certainly have my sights set on more such hits, I know that the daily commitment of butt in chair and fingers on keyboard is where I must, equally, find joy and motivation. And I do. 

A writer’s life is oft considered a lonely one, with long stretches of time alone at a desk, fretting, wondering, thinking and, maybe, even, writing. I do all those things, but I don’t find the writing life a lonely one. I write with readers in mind (you are always in my head). I write because I enjoy working with words and want to see what I can weave together from my thoughts and ideas. And I write because I know I am part of an enormous community of writers who are doing exactly what I am: some are across town, some across the country, and some beyond the border. But all are just an email or website away, so I am never alone in this writing life. Not if I am confident enough to put myself in the game and present myself as captain of my craft. When I do that, then I’m ready to face the competition and submit a piece to a stranger, aka an editor who knows me not from Adam. And when that stranger says, Yes, please, we’ll take your piece, it’s like dropping that netball into the hoop: Such. A. Good. Feeling. 

Way back during my netball days, I knew in my gut that my goal scoring was more luck than skill, for I put in neither the time nor the commitment for it to be anything else; I just enjoyed the fun of the sport. However, these days, I know that the skill I have and any success I experience comes from persistence (write every day), patience (keep at it, no matter what) and productivity (if I don’t write anything, I have nothing to submit). These are hallmarks of the writing life, maybe of any life worth living. No matter what balls you’re moving, on whatever court you’re playing out your passion, keep at it. Perseverance is, actually, the name of the game we’re all in. 

Note: Brevity Blog is about writing and the writing life. The Globe and Mail publishes a First Person essay every weekday in their Life section. 

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Land acknowledgement: I respectfully recognize that I live on the original lands of Anishinaabe, Cree, Oji-Cree, Dakota and Dene peoples, and on the homeland of the Métis Nation.