The Loneliness Of The Long Distance Writer

Watching the 2024 Olympics in Paris and hearing  the profiles of all the athletes who are competing, made me realize how very much alone we, as writers are in own field of dreams.

Each athlete interviewed had personal stories to tell about coaches, teammates, family, friends and sometimes entire towns cheering them on. When they had doubts, when they fell, numerous supporters were ready at a moment’s notice to help them back on their feet. And when they were finally in the arena, thousands of spectators watched, cheered and applauded their every achievement as well as felt their anguish when they didn't quite make it to the medals podium.

Yet, in our own “Wide Wide World” of Writing, the only "applause" we hear is from our fingers hitting the keyboard. Our biggest motivator is the blinking cursor on a blank screen "screaming" at us to KEEP GOING.

Writing is a passion unlike any other. It comes from deep within, and has few rewards on the other side. The road is laden with obstacles, and laden with the hazards of rejection. Most of our friends and family members can't possibly understand that our burning desire to create the "perfect" sentence is just as strong as any gymnast's quest to nail the "perfect" vault. Yet, we press on.

Alone.

We watch an athlete practice for the great event and can feel their struggle. We see the "thrill of victory" and "the agony of defeat" as the camera zooms in on their faces at the end of a competition. The team hugs each other in triumph, or consoles each other through tragedy. It is a magnificent show of physical ability, strength and endurance, as they go for the gold, the trophy, the championship ring.

No one can "feel" the enormous weight of a writer's block, or the pressure of a looming deadline. And no one but a writer knows the absolute, total thrill when, after hours of mental anguish, we find the one word that makes us literally jump up from our chair and yell "YES!" Usually, to an empty room.

The world revolves around athletes. From the youngest to the professional, families work their schedules around practices and games. Laundry, dishes and other household chores are for the "less talented" members of the family. If one of them happens to be a writer, it's their world that constantly gets interrupted. (Pause here while I take the laundry out of the dryer).

Team pictures line the walls in an athlete's home along with trophies, medals and other awards of achievement. And while it is true that the writing profession does have its own established awards, you won't find many trophies for writers displayed inside glass cases in local high schools or colleges.

Writing is not a competitive sport, (although I know some writers who would disagree!) For most of us who started down this road, either by choice or by chance, we chose to walk it, initially, alone. But on the way, something miraculous occurred. We meet other writers who wore similar scars of repeated rejections, and bruises from scathing reviews, and yet somehow found the strength to continue the journey. We stop to chat, usually on-line, and offer support and encouragement before continuing on our way. And with each new writer we meet, in person or in a ZOOM meeting, we begin to feel not quite so alone as we did when we started.

The enormous gratitude I feel for all of these strangers cannot be easily expressed with mere words. Their support and encouragement outweighs the countless rejections received by over 200 agents and publishers I submitted my query through a new on-line impersonal form called Query Tracker. All were rejected with a boiler plate email. Submitting short stories to contests, such as this one, and not winning any can be devastating, but I keep going!

The finish line kept getting farther and farther away. Quitting would have been so much easier than to continue failing. If NOT for those who believed in me, my first novel would have been my last. But I kept going.

Once upon a time, we authors had the opportunity to attend local, state and national book fairs where we could meet our fans in person. Book stores would hold monthly “meet the author” events. I’ll never forget the time I was on an author panel at Borders just after my second novel was published. When it was over, a woman came up to me, a copy of “First Class Male” in hand, and said “I just LOVED “Red Wine for Breakfast!” I really wasn’t interested in the panel discussion. I only came to buy your book and get your autograph”.

I don’t know if she saw the tears of gratitude in my eyes as I put my pen to the cover page. “Thank you for being a fan, Raven West.”

There are no adequate words of gratitude I can offer to those strangers who took the time to write amazing reviews of my forth novel “Vashti’s Daughter”. Their encouragement gives me the strength to carry on in this very lonely profession.

Not everyone can be an Olympic athlete, and not everyone can be a writer. We may never be on the pitcher's mound in Yankee Stadium, but we can write a great story about an athlete who is.

We may never sign a multi-million dollar product endorsement contract, but we can create a dynamite thirty second commercial spot. We may never stand on a podium and receive a gold, silver or bronze medal, but we will always be there writing the script for the announcer who tells the world of their achievements.

Even if we don't perform for thousands of cheering fans, we will always have this one fact to keep us going: Civilization will still exist without the Olympics, the Super Bowl and yes, even the World Series. The world will continue to evolve without theater, television, movies, radio and yes, even athletes.

But without writers...