In the spirit of the 2022 Winter Olympic games this month, here is an article I wrote during the Summer games in 2004. Different sports, but the analogy remains the same. Enjoy!
Watching the Olympics this past September and seeing the profiles of all the athletes who were competing, made me realize how very much alone we, as writers are in own field of dreams. Each athlete had personal stories to tell about coaches, teammates, family, friends and sometimes entire towns cheering them on. When they had doubts, when they fell, numerous supporters were ready at a moments notice to help them back on their feet. And when they were finally in the arena, thousands of spectators watched, cheered and applauded their every achievement as well as felt their anguish when they didn’t quite make it to the finish line.
Yet, in our own “Wide Wide World of Writing”, the only “applause” we hear is from our fingers hitting the keyboard. Our biggest motivator is the blinking cursor on a blank screen “screaming” at us to KEEP GOING. Writing is a passion unlike any other. It comes from deep within, and has few rewards on the other side. The road is laden with obstacles, and laden with the hazzards of rejection. Most of our friends and family members can’t possibly understand that our burning desire to create the “perfect” sentence is just as strong as any gymnast’s quest to nail the “perfect” vault. Yet, we press on. Alone.
We watch an athlete practice for the great event and can feel their struggle. We see the “thrill of victory” and “the agony of defeat” as the camera zooms in on their faces at the end of a competition. The “team” hugs each other in triumph, or consoles each other through tragedy. It is a magnificent show of physical ability, strength and endurance, as they go for the gold, the trophy, the championship ring.
No one can “feel” the enormous weight of a writer’s block, or the pressure of a looming deadline. And no one but a writer knows the absolute, total thrill when, after hours of mental aguish, we find the one word that makes us literally jump up from our chair and yell “YES!” Usually, to an empty room.
The world revolves around athletes. From the youngest to the professional, families work their schedules around practices and games. Laundry, dishes and other household chores are for the “less talented” members of the family. If one of them happens to be a writer, it’s their world that constantly gets interrupted. (Pause here while I take the laundry out of the dryer).
Team pictures line the walls in an athlete’s home along with trophies, medals and other awards of achievement. And while it is true that the writing profession does have its own established awards, you won’t find many trophies for writers displayed inside glass cases in local high schools or colleges.
Writing is not a competitive sport, (although I know some writers who would disagree, unfortunately). For most of us who started down this road, either by choice or by chance, we chose to walk it, initially, alone. But on the way, something miraculous occurred. We met other writers who wore similar scars of repeated rejections, and bruises from scathing reviews, and yet somehow found the strength to continue the journey. We stop to chat, usually on-line, and offer support and encouragement before continuing on our way. And with each new writer we meet, we begin to feel not quite so alone as we did when we started.
Not everyone can be an Olympic Athlete, and not everyone can be a writer. We may never be on the pitcher’s mound in Yankee Stadium, but we can write a great story about an athlete who is. We may never sign a multi-million dollar product endorsement contract, but we can create a dynamite thirty second commercial spot. We may never stand on a podium and receive a gold medal, but we will always be there writing the script for the announcer who tells the world of their achievement.
Even if we don’t perform for thousands of cheering fans, we will always have this one fact to keep us going: Civilization will still exist without the Olympics, the Super Bowl and yes, even the World Series. The world will continue to evolve without theater, television, movies, radio and yes, even athletes. But without writers…
IF I could only SING, I’d form a PROTEST flash mob and change a few words of the great Les Miserable song: “Do you Hear the people sing, singing the song of ANGRY men (and women) It’s the music of a people who WILL NOT WEAR MASKS AGAIN!”
WTF? We were PROMISED if we got the vaccine, we could THROW AWAY these ineffective, anti-social, suffocating POS, but because of a few A-HOLES who won’t, WE ALL HAVE TO SUFFER!
They say “don’t you want to protect other people?” HELL NO – it’s their choice not get the vaccine and possibly DIE. It’s NOT my responsibility to be forced to put a piece of cloth (made in CHINA BTW) over my mouth and nose just so THEY don’t get sick! It’s called thinning the herd.
We, as FREEDOM loving AMERICANS should exercise our RIGHTS to make our OWN choices – NOT be mandated by a few power hungry, control freaks who demand unquestionable submission!
With NO END in sight at this rate we’ll be covering our faces from the time we emerge from the womb – ENOUGH IS ENOUGH – GET THE GOVERNMENT OUT OF MY FACE and give us back our SMILES!
I’ve always found it much easier on the eyes to read a printed page and not stare at a computer screen, especially when it comes to reading a BOOK… or the first draft of what may, someday BECOME a “real” book!
Here’s the “pitch” for my 97,000 word best seller to be:
Vashti’s Daughter – A book publisher discovers a mysterious manuscript and learns she’s the reincarnated daughter of a Persian queen from 366 BCE. Risking her company and romantic relationship with the author, she breaks a centuries old curse that finally brings her true happiness and changes the world’s view of a biblical heroine.
Search Vashti, you’ll get over 2 MILLION results on Google alone! That translates into 2 MILLION potential buyers of my novel when it’s published (Literary agents, are you listening?)
I’d call it the “DaVinci Code” for Jews, only no one is murdered and the book of Esther is in the Christian Bible (in Writings) as well as the Jewish Tanakh, while the “code” was about Jesus, so us Jews really didn’t get it.
Though it’s fiction, I have several real people throughout the book, including Dr. Jim Tucker, an authority on reincarnation who was recently featured on a Netflix special “Surviving Death”, and actual locations and events that lend it credibility.
In addition to reincarnation theory, and the publishing industry, there is also the Catskills, Syracuse University basketball, a bit of Star Wars, an archeological dig in the city of Qumis in Iran, astrology, tarot, Kabballah, even Alexander the Great, although I have no idea how he ended up in the story, but it all fits.
What started out as an idea about two people who knew each other in a previous life, became a 50,000 word National Novel Writing Month (NaNoWriMo) in 2011, has grown and changed and evolved into something quite extraordinary.
Coming to a bookstore, or a Costco, or a Walmart, near YOU!
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Author Raven West 
The Loneliness Of The Long Distance Writer
Raven West ♦ February 6, 2022 ♦ Leave a comment
In the spirit of the 2022 Winter Olympic games this month, here is an article I wrote during the Summer games in 2004. Different sports, but the analogy remains the same. Enjoy!
Watching the Olympics this past September and seeing the profiles of all the athletes who were competing, made me realize how very much alone we, as writers are in own field of dreams. Each athlete had personal stories to tell about coaches, teammates, family, friends and sometimes entire towns cheering them on. When they had doubts, when they fell, numerous supporters were ready at a moments notice to help them back on their feet. And when they were finally in the arena, thousands of spectators watched, cheered and applauded their every achievement as well as felt their anguish when they didn’t quite make it to the finish line.
Yet, in our own “Wide Wide World of Writing”, the only “applause” we hear is from our fingers hitting the keyboard. Our biggest motivator is the blinking cursor on a blank screen “screaming” at us to KEEP GOING. Writing is a passion unlike any other. It comes from deep within, and has few rewards on the other side. The road is laden with obstacles, and laden with the hazzards of rejection. Most of our friends and family members can’t possibly understand that our burning desire to create the “perfect” sentence is just as strong as any gymnast’s quest to nail the “perfect” vault. Yet, we press on. Alone.
We watch an athlete practice for the great event and can feel their struggle. We see the “thrill of victory” and “the agony of defeat” as the camera zooms in on their faces at the end of a competition. The “team” hugs each other in triumph, or consoles each other through tragedy. It is a magnificent show of physical ability, strength and endurance, as they go for the gold, the trophy, the championship ring.
No one can “feel” the enormous weight of a writer’s block, or the pressure of a looming deadline. And no one but a writer knows the absolute, total thrill when, after hours of mental aguish, we find the one word that makes us literally jump up from our chair and yell “YES!” Usually, to an empty room.
The world revolves around athletes. From the youngest to the professional, families work their schedules around practices and games. Laundry, dishes and other household chores are for the “less talented” members of the family. If one of them happens to be a writer, it’s their world that constantly gets interrupted. (Pause here while I take the laundry out of the dryer).
Team pictures line the walls in an athlete’s home along with trophies, medals and other awards of achievement. And while it is true that the writing profession does have its own established awards, you won’t find many trophies for writers displayed inside glass cases in local high schools or colleges.
Writing is not a competitive sport, (although I know some writers who would disagree, unfortunately). For most of us who started down this road, either by choice or by chance, we chose to walk it, initially, alone. But on the way, something miraculous occurred. We met other writers who wore similar scars of repeated rejections, and bruises from scathing reviews, and yet somehow found the strength to continue the journey. We stop to chat, usually on-line, and offer support and encouragement before continuing on our way. And with each new writer we meet, we begin to feel not quite so alone as we did when we started.
Not everyone can be an Olympic Athlete, and not everyone can be a writer. We may never be on the pitcher’s mound in Yankee Stadium, but we can write a great story about an athlete who is. We may never sign a multi-million dollar product endorsement contract, but we can create a dynamite thirty second commercial spot. We may never stand on a podium and receive a gold medal, but we will always be there writing the script for the announcer who tells the world of their achievement.
Even if we don’t perform for thousands of cheering fans, we will always have this one fact to keep us going: Civilization will still exist without the Olympics, the Super Bowl and yes, even the World Series. The world will continue to evolve without theater, television, movies, radio and yes, even athletes. But without writers…
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