The Trait Of All Successful Writers

We have a shorter letter today, but it's a good one.

On Sunday, I competed in another karate tournament as a yellow belt. And this time, because there weren't enough people in my division, I had to face off against a black belt in sparring.

It was a standard 2-minute round, but I was shitting bricks on the sidelines. Right before they called the match, my instructor came up to me:

'Whatever you do, just have fun on the mat.'

I nodded and stepped onto the mat. The ref went over the rules and told us to bow to each other before yelling: 'Hajime!'

The black belt was fast. Before I knew what was happening, he had already scored a point to my head. 1-0.

This is the moment when that Mike Tyson quote rang true:

'Everybody has a plan until they get punched in the face.'

I headed in with the perfect plan: exhaust the opponent, run them around the mat, then launch a barrage of kicks. But all of it disappeared when that first point was called, and I had to think on the spot.

Then, a kick came around for my rib. With no time to think, I reacted with a quick block and launched a counterattack. It missed, but it threw my opponent for a loop.

He backed off a few steps, and something clicked in my body. I launched straight into offence and scored a point to his body. 1-1.

The black belt's coach winced on the sidelines. I kept going, but his techniques were way more precise with those extra years of training. We finished the fight with 4-1, landing me a second place with a silver medal.

Yet, what happened next shook me.

When we walked off the mats with our medals, my opponent looked like he had just eaten a bad oyster. His coach pulled him to the side:

'Those 4 points expended you.'

'But I won! 4 to 1!'

'Against someone who's 9 belts below you.'

Yet when my sensei rushed up to me after the fight, he said:

'You didn't even let him climb to 7 points! Good work!'

And somehow my silver felt sweeter than gold. It was a good fight nevertheless, because I have an amazing sensei who taught from a place of love. I have amazing teammates who cheered me on, and most importantly, I had fun.

So often in our writing practices, we start to let it get too big, too heavy, too profound.

Our senses start to dull in service of some divine mission of writing. We start to take ourselves way too seriously, and we learn to see every sentence as a fight.

Yet, just like a fight, the minute we forget to have fun is when that gold medal becomes a punishment. No matter where we end up with our writing journeys, published or not published, awards or no awards, if we're ever disconnected from the joy of letting ideas take flight, then there is no point to it.

And I felt this in my bones when I sent back the final manuscript of my book to my copyeditor this week. It's strange, because a supposed milestone (finalising & publishing a book) felt trivial.

Yet, those memories of writing the first draft in odd cafes, researching the chapters, brainstorming with my editor and going to sleep thinking about the book... That's where the juice is. And I would happily do it all over again even if I never publish another book in my life.

So, this week's letter is a reminder to breathe, return to the basics and remember what got you here. Don't let the milestones define you, because they will eventually become your punishment if there's no more joy left in your daily practice.

Have fun, and play.

Until next week

Robin