For this week's guest blog, I am pleased to introduce author, Jason Andrew Bond. Make sure to check out the links to his social media pages, website, and literary works following this article.
What Getting Punched in the Face Taught Me about
Writing
I’ve been training in martial arts since I
was eighteen years old. That’s twenty
years of cracked shins, pulled tendons, and bruised forearms. I’ve trained under the former U.S. Taekwondo
Olympic Head Coach, a Muay Thai heavyweight champion, and a U.S. Martial Arts
Hall of Famer. Believe me when I tell
you, it all hurt.
During those years of training I had a
critical problem; I’m wasn't very good. I’ve got poor timing, weak balance, and slow reaction time. Rather, I had
those things. After twenty years, I can
block or dodge most punches and kicks, my balance is much improved, and I can land
a few good shots.
It’s important for me to qualify that I still
feel like an idiot compared to some of my more talented training partners. However, if you watched me spar or grapple,
you’d probably think I knew what I was doing.
You might just see me win against some pretty talented fighters…
might. There’s a lot you won’t see,
though. Buried in what I can do are
years of losses and injuries. In my younger
days, I went home many times with my ego so bruised I could barely look in the
mirror. Seeing only the skill a person
has and not what he or she went through to get it is a dangerous
misperception. To successfully walk a
path one must be aware of the entire journey, not simply the destination.
It is critical to understand that anything
done well, must first be done badly. This
truth is often where people struggle. I’ve
seen it for twenty years in martial arts. New students arrive with images of themselves stronger, fitter, and able
to defend themselves. That’s all great. However, the truth is that training hurts the
body and ego. People feel awkward when they
try to throw their first punches and weak because they can’t keep up with the
class. These physical and mental challenges cause
most people to quit within the first few months because they did not expect nor
appreciate those feelings. Yet, it is
exactly these feelings of apparent failure we must pass through to find
success.
The same reality of skill development applies
to writing, but there is an even deeper failure rate due to a key problem. Most people will look at a martial artist
throwing kicks and blocking punches and think, “Wow, that’s a different level
of skill.” It’s not always that way for
writing.
Many people—and I’ve heard this sentiment
several times—think that they can write a good story on the first or second go,
and that simply isn’t possible. If you
gave me two challenges, holding off a friend of mine named Jacob—who’s 265 lbs
and recently fought and won in a local MMA cage fight—and writing a story I can
guarantee people will like, I’ll take the fight. It’s so much easier to control. Let me reiterate that. A 265 lb. cage fighter is easier to control
than a reader’s perception of a fiction story. In a fight, I know when I’m winning. I know when I’m losing. Writing
is in no way that clear. It’s a shadowy
art in which you paint in the darkness of another person’s mind. You will never know the exact impact your
words have.
Most aspiring authors don’t realize how difficult fiction writing is until they get their first reader reactions. The author is excited and sure the reader will love the work, and the reader winces and says, “Well, it was okay, but…” This realization that the new author has not been able to create a masterwork can shock the ego so badly that he or she may give up. Don’t let that be you! I’ve said it many times, and I’ll say it many more: The only time we truly fail, no matter how many rejections we receive or how many matches we lose, is the moment we stop trying.
So what should you do? Write. Write badly. You will at
first. Unless you’re that one lightning
bolt—odds are you aren’t—you’ll need practice. How much? Malcolm Gladwell has written a book on what
makes people successful called Outliers. I highly recommend it. I’ll leave the specific details to your
reading, but the core comes down to hard work. How much? 10,000 hours. That may sound like less than it is. Trust me, it’s a LOT. I’ve been tracking my writing time over the
last several years, and I’m still nowhere near that mark. However, if you want to compete with King,
Rowling, and Sparks, you better be willing to put in that level of time.
Now I’m going to offer my most important
advice: Don’t listen to me. You don’t
want advice from a guy who doesn’t have his 10,000 hours in yet. Go to the experts. During my martial arts lifetime I’ve learned
from first degree black belts and ninth degree black belts. I’ve attended seminars with a local stick
fighter and seminars with world class fighters like Danny Inosanto. The first degree black belts can get you off
the ground, but they can only raise you up so high. If you want to be competitive with the big
names of writing, if you want to perfect your voice and art, then you need to
be mentored by those with 10,000 hours.
The good news: That mentorship is there for you. I begin each writing day by reading from a
how-to book by a bestselling author or professional editor. If you focus on the advice of these people,
you will find valuable wisdom and—much more importantly—an intensely positive
energy. As a starting point, I recommend
the book Stein on Writing by Sol
Stein. You want to be a skilled
writer? Become a skilled editor.
So the secret to great writing presents itself as 10,000 hours of work, and many, many failures. But when you fail, if you see it correctly, you will move toward success. How can you develop a skill through failure? Believe me, when that boxing glove comes through your guard and connects with your face, your motivation to block the next punch is fairly intense.
Now stop reading this and get back to
writing!
All the best,
Jason
FB: https://www.facebook.com/Jason.Andrew.Bond Twitter: https://twitter.com/JasonAndrewBond
Website: https://www.JasonAndrewBond.com
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