I recently listened to an inspiring interview with Kimberley Chambers, marathon ocean swimmer extraordinaire, only the sixth person ever to complete the Ocean’s Seven set of insane marathon swims.
Closer to home, my swimming buddy Steve Junk has completed six of the swims and hopes to complete the set with his final swim in August, the North Channel between Scotland and Ireland, where the water temperature is icy and there are enormous stinging jellyfish to navigate.
These kind of swims make the 20km swim between Cottesloe and Rottnest look like a short stroll to the corner shop, but doing the Rotto swim will likely be the extent of my endurance swimming, and doing it solo twice (so far – maybe more to come?) is a big enough deal for me.
In March I finished the third / fourth draft of my first ever novel. Finished for the moment anyway. No doubt if I want it to be published there is still a huge amount of work yet to be done.
It has struck me so many times how many similarities there are between the process of writing a novel and the process of training for a big event like swimming to Rottnest. So at very great risk of labouring a metaphor, here goes…
7 ways writing a novel is like swimming to Rottnest…
1. Having a clearly articulated goal is everything
This sounds like some awful self-help tripe (and this whole post is at serious risk of reading like that) but it surprised me just how powerful setting a proper goal can be. The first time I ever did the Rottnest swim in a team I watched with awe the solo swimmers come into the beach, after a horrible rough crossing. I remember thinking ‘I’d so love to do that one day, but I just don’t know that I could do all that training.’
Then in the lead up to our fortieth birthdays my dear and oldest friend Katrina said ‘I’m going to do a solo swim next year. Are you in?’ I was all ‘You can’t do that before me, I’ve got to be in!’
And that was it. The goal was set, the commitment made. And once it was made quite seriously, I was surprised at how galvanising it was. It made all the training not only possible, but enjoyable.
There was less of a clearly identifiable moment with the novel, but after nearly a decade of the idea swirling around in my head, I committed to a writing workshop and in doing so made my goal more public. I named it and I began working on it.
2. Have people around you who are after the same goal
The second time I did the solo Rotto swim I did train for it mostly on my own which I found quite tough. But for that first time I doubt I could have done it without a really excellent coach – Paul Newsome of Swimsmooth – and a squad of people to train with. Oh and family and friends to support you all the way through, and on the way over.
And for writing, it is almost a truism to find your community. I now live in a creative community, and have had all sorts of support locally, as well as other opportunities to find fellow writers, through the KSP Fellowship and a writers retreat.
Swimming and writing are both inherently solitary pastimes – it is hard to chat when your head is underwater, which is one of the many pleasures – so finding people to hang out with who are passionate about the same goal you are is so important.
3. There’s so many small steps required to reach that goal
The only way to get to Rottnest without injuring yourself is to very slowly, little by little, build up your training, until you are swimming around 40km in a week.
And oh my goodness, the painstaking way in which a novel goes from idea/goal to actual printed out manuscript of 90,000 words is so glacially slow, involving so many very small steps and incremental additions.
4. With some success your goalposts can change (but keep the original goal in sight)
I remember once during all the training for Rottnest when my husband Tim said ‘When did this all get so serious? Originally you just wanted to get there, and now you’re all hung up on going under 6 hours.’ This is perhaps an off-shoot of number 2, finding an encouraging mentor/coach and working with other people who have aspirations. So my goalposts kept changing and I kept expecting better results. And I was disappointed when on the first crossing I made some mistakes, a few things didn’t go my way and I was 20 minutes over my goal time.
Similarly when I first started writing I just wanted to see if I could. Actually. Write. A Novel. A long held, secret dream that I didn’t ever really properly contemplate until recently. Of course you write it because you want it to be published, but I’m also trying to hold onto the fact that I did it! I wrote a novel. A novel that a few people have read and apparently enjoyed. No matter what happens with it in the big wide world, I’ve done that thing, that long cherished childhood dream.
5. There will definitely be times when you want to give up
Goes without saying when it comes to swimming to Rottnest when you are tired, hurting, have a fuzzy mouth from too much saltwater, you are throwing up from swallowing too much of that saltwater and are just completely and totally over it. Of course you will want to give up.
But the self-doubt of writing a novel is something else. I heard a writer being interviewed saying something along the lines of ‘Self-belief won’t get you through because that waxes and wanes so much, but self-discipline will. Just keep showing up.’ I’ve held onto that advice.
6. There are few financial rewards and other accolades, so your motives can’t lie there
Something I so desperately love about humans is that we just keep doing things just because we can and purely to challenge ourselves. Not for the tangible rewards that are supposed to be what drives people. When swimming to Rottnest, there is a fleeting feel-good moment when you cross the finish line, a bit of love on social media and from friends and family, some ongoing private satisfaction. And that is about all you can reasonably expect in terms of extrinsic rewards.
Similarly with writing a novel, I’ve worked really hard to keep my expectations in check. Getting published is hard and competitive and it might never happen. So I just need to write because I love the process of creation and anything else that happens is a bonus.
7. Once you’ve done it you just want to do it again, but better
Before swimming to Rottnest I sought every bit of advice I could find, written and face to face. I felt like I knew what to expect. But still I made some rookie mistakes, and I was unhappy with that first swim. I did know I had learnt so much about how to do it properly next time.
It took another three team swims to Rottnest before I gave it another go, but it was SO much better the second time, even though the conditions were worse. And I went under my six hour goal by fifteen minutes.
And now, having written one novel, all I want to do is write another. And do at least two things I didn’t do so well first time around:
- Write a quick and dirty and messy first draft, without endless editing. Just get it all out.
- Trust in the story and find out what happens by writing it.
I have an idea and I have some time coming up, so here goes!