I love it when kids use their
imaginations. After a big sporting event like the Olympics or the World Series
or the NBA Championship you may catch them shooting the game-winning shot at
the buzzer or hitting a homer out of the park to clinch the title. What they fail
to take into account is that the glory of victory is preceded by hours of hard preparation
in obscurity.
But we adults are sometimes guilty of
the same thing. Here’s what I mean.
When people learn I’m a writer of
children’s books some will say, “I’d like to write a book someday” but that’s
not what they really mean. Writing is hard work. It takes time, lots of time
alone in front of a sometimes blank computer screen. And that’s just for the
first draft. By draft seven or eight I don’t want to read the thing again…ever.
But after a year…maybe two, when I think the story is ready to toddle off my
desk into the hands of another reader, I submit it to my critique group and
they rip it apart…alas. And it’s back to the literary drawing board.
No. When someone says they want to write
a book what they usually mean is they want to HAVE WRITTEN a book.
So many things in life are like this. Financial
security during the retirement is a good example. It takes many years of
disciplined saving to achieve it. Well-behaved children is another. My goodness,
one must be painfully consistent at home so that when the kids are out in
public other adults actually enjoy being around them. Here’s one more. My son
is running his first marathon on December 14. He will be running with 1,500
other marathoners on that day. But in training for the 26.2 mile event he will
have already run 300 miles all alone.
Whether writing a book or training for a
marathon laboring in obscurity is essential before one can experience the
thrill of victory. But experience it we can as long as we are willing to labor
in obscurity first.
My son is an inspiration to me. So much
so that someday I’d like to run a marathon, too. Or perhaps I simply would like
to have run one…
