How can we keep a connection to the
positive energy of the Olympic Summer before it evaporates, fast as the vapour
trail from that final Red Arrows fly-past?
While sports clubs everywhere are
overrun with new recruits – the inspired generation? – for many of us,
certainly me, it’s too late to attempt to run 100m in under 10 seconds. But,
aside from sport, how can each of us take inspiration from the Olympic Summer
and channel such positive energy into other areas of our everyday lives and,
more particularly, our writing lives?
The ‘E’ word
Interviewed before the Paralympics closing ceremony, comedian Jimmy Carr said, ‘I’ve had the summer off – from cynicism.’ Exactly.
We’ve watched athletes compete and co-operate. We’ve marvelled as ordinary people performed extraordinary feats of grace and endurance. We’ve talked about excellence and having fun; we’ve cared and shared. The Games Makers have shown it’s possible to get a buzz out of doing something without getting paid. If one word can sum all of this up, it’s ENTHUSIASM.
There, I’ve said it – the ‘E’ word. It tends not to be cool to be enthusiastic but, in the face of such amazing events, our bottled up enthusiasm couldn’t help but surface.
It’s probably not simply British reserve or Metro cool that keeps us wary of overt displays of excitement. The word derives from the Greek entheos - ‘the god within.’ When enthusiasm entered the English language c1600 it meant to be possessed by God or deluded that one had a direct channel to God. Enthusiasm was close to an unhealthy fanaticism.
Over the centuries the word has lost its religious connotations. Now, it refers to having great excitement for or interest in anything, but I suppose that could include extreme right wing politics. Just as the Olympics have created new associations around the Union Jack might the idea of being overtly enthusiastic gain a new respectability?
What might this mean in terms of writing?
The American poet Ralph Waldo Emerson on this subject:
‘Enthusiasm is the mother of effort, and without it
nothing great was ever achieved.’
How often do we writers talk about the fears and setbacks rather than the founding enthusiasms that get us tapping at the keyboard in the first place? How often do we own up to our excitement about our current project? Could it be that the worst aspects of the effort start to dominate because we detach that effort from the founding enthusiasm?
Medal or Personal Best?
Over the summer I jotted down phrases that came up repeatedly from the athletes or their coaches, phrases that spoke of the effort born of enthusiasm. Some of these could be reframed and applied to the process of developing as a writer:
‘it’s about putting in the hours of training’
‘it all came together on the day’
‘I look to get the best from each individual’
‘that’s a new Personal Best’
‘I’ll review my speeds then make a plan for Rio’
‘it’s all about making steps to improve’
I was struck by the number of athletes who didn’t get a medal, even came last, but still had a smile on their face. Pitting themselves against the medal winners they’d produced a Personal Best. Taking part had got the best out of that individual.
Each time you submit work – poem, short story or novel – you enter the race. The competitive world of publishing is altogether more chaotic and quixotic than the world of elite sports. But each submission is an opportunity to raise your game by giving that piece one more tweak to make it a Personal Best, at that time. The feedback may not be what you’d hoped for but from it, how can you make steps to improve the work?
It’s part of the writing process to follow through on rejection by reviewing and making a plan for the next submission. As one swimmer said, ‘I’ll review my speeds and make a plan for Rio.’ You have no chance of getting a medal if you don’t take the training seriously with your eye on the next race.
The Art & The Graft
Achievements - in sport or in writing - begin with some natural aptitude plus vision and imagination. As Stephen Hawking put during the Paralympic Opening Ceremony, "Look at the stars and not down at your feet. Be curious." Curiosity, enthusiasm and a facility with words – the art – get a writing project off to a good start. Next comes the craft, or should I say graft.
Jessica Ennis has a natural talent for the hurdling but less talent for throwing the javelin. To get her heptathlon gold medal meant putting in extra hours in on javelin training, breaking down the technique into stages, improving each so that ‘it all came together on the day.’
When a piece of writing isn’t working it’s the graft of re-drafting that brings success. You take the novel apart and put it back in a way so that it will all come together. Or, having tried it, you might decide that this particular ‘sport’ isn’t for you. It might be time to try a different genre.
It’s all too easy to focus on the exhaustion and frustration of the writing process but watching the Olympics has reminded me how important it is to stay in touch with the enjoyment and enthusiasm that made me want to write in the first place.
If you’re struggling too much at the graft why not return to the authors who inspire you, or go back to an image or a character that made you want to start that project in the first place. In short – reconnect the effort to the vision, the enthusiasm, and declare it to yourself and others.
What excited many of us over the summer was not simply the medal ceremonies but the stories behind each athlete – the process that led them either to a medal or Personal Best.
With writing you are in charge of what Personal Best means for you. As to the medals – I reckon if you’ve had something published by a reputable publisher – be it mainstream or small press, poetry, fiction or non-fiction – you are a medal winner. Congratulations! I’ll leave you to rank yourself gold, silver or bronze.
Meanwhile, if you've been inspired by the Olympics and Paralympics do leave a comment, I'd love to hear how it affected you. Let's keep that energy going ...
You have done a marvellous job making the connection to writing! Made me think again.
Posted by: Freeda F | 23 November 2012 at 09:50 AM
Thanks, Mavis. Indeed, hold to the delight of writing - so much gets written about how hard it is... we must remember why we do it! Because, deep down, we love it!
Posted by: Pam Johnson | 08 October 2012 at 12:36 PM
I was lucky enough to see some of the equestrian paralympics, in the beautifully designed venue in Greenwich Park. I loved the zany joyfulness of the volunteers who guided us there - with what felt like sincere enthusiasm. As for the riders. Inspiring is really the only word, and very moving. Personal fragility and limitation overcome by hard work and empathy between horse and rider - a kind of delight in each other. In the end it felt like a personal best for every one of them - getting out there, holding the task together, reaching for the highest they could achieve, dignity and grace, whether a medal or not. I think for me, in my writing, the message they gave is there. Hold to the delight (the enthusiasm..); if medals don't come, still hold!
Posted by: Mavis Gregson | 07 October 2012 at 04:51 PM
Yes, so true. We need an army of volunteers to support writing...
Posted by: Jo | 03 October 2012 at 03:40 PM
It was extraordinary...never thought I would sit through hours of men's hockey but it was the only ticket available before Prague and watching it all with a Czech commentary...I think the connections you make are interesting but the strongest for me is when they do the slow motion repeat, the silence, the space that comes when everything..exercise, patience, attention, persistence, courage... brings a stillness. Oh yes and the creative talent of the ceremonies...and those wonderful volunteers like Mary S. We need permanent volunteers for support in writing just as much as the creative whizzery...
Posted by: jane | 17 September 2012 at 08:56 AM
Thanks for your thoughts, Jehane. Yes, those opening ceremonies were a terrific surprise, full of so many memorable images. Wonderful, too, that most of the performers were ENTHUSIASTIC [can't help it!] amateurs. This summer has harnessed so much talent in so many ways.
Posted by: Pam Johnson | 14 September 2012 at 07:08 PM
Now, in the quiet of my garden in Norfolk, it all seems quite far away but there, at the time, it was mesmerizing and sometimes uplifting and joyous. I enjoyed watching parts of the opening ceremony very much, particularly the rising up of the satanic mills and the exhilarating homage to the NHS - I felt proud of our shared creative imagination and I thought the opening ceremony for the paralympics was full of invention and beauty. I don't like the nationalistic fervour that it can produce and the obsession with Britain winning gold medals. It is a strange world of speed and competition - neither of which I like - BUT I think you're right, there are ideas and strategies that we can use to help us negotiate the frosty world of publishing and public relations with a renewed sense of self confidence and pride.
Posted by: Jehane Markham | 14 September 2012 at 06:38 PM