As I watch the 2012 Summer Olympics in London, I am moved, motivated, and amazed at the effort each Olympian makes. Hours of time, days of effort, weeks of willpower, months of nothing but their sport, years of yearning—that’s what it takes to get there. And many give all they’ve got and don’t get there. They stay home and dream. They remain in their little worlds and say, “I’ll keep trying. Maybe next time…”
I can’t help but think of our efforts as writers.
We work every single day, toil endless hours, give all we’ve got to whittle out of our lives time to write.
A few of us will mine gold. We’ll sell enough books to make a modest living. Some of us will get a publishing contract, and sell enough books to send us back to write another. More of us will keep writing in the hopes that next time, or the time after that, or the tenth time we’ll write a book that someone, anyone will read and enjoy.
It’s a rare and wonderful thing to want to write. It’s a precious thing to honor our desire to create. It’s enough to find that a publisher or our critique partners or our family say, “You’ve got potential,” or better yet, “I loved your story.”
So as we watch the Olympics, take heart, writers.
Our time spent crafting, drafting, and wishing may never net gold, but we’re in the hunt. We’re racing toward our goals. And no matter if you publish, sell, or succeed, we’re giving it our all.
Who can fault us for trying when so many others say, “What if?”