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Melissa Ostrom Author

Melissa Ostrom is the author of The Beloved Wild and other writing

We All Fall Down

November 16, 2021 By Melissa Ostrom

I’m tempted to rename this fall—my fall, anyway—fail. All fall, I have failed. I haven’t planted bulbs for the spring yet, gathered hollyhock seeds, weeded the flowerbeds, cleaned out my bedroom closet, stuck to my diet, stayed in better touch with family and friends, or organized the pantry, all of which I promised myself I’d do. I haven’t even kept to my first-of-the-month blog post schedule. Here’s November’s: late!

My fall losing streak holds true for my writing in general. Though I managed to finagle a few flashes, the longer pieces fell flat. One died because my good idea turned out to be not good. Another languished because my main character annoyed me. The third bit the dust because my husband, who’s also usually my reliably admiring first reader, read what I’d accomplished so far and, with regards to a legal situation important to the plot, had…questions. He murmured about this situation being “contestable in court” and “logistically unlikely.” Now I want a divorce.

And yet, oh, each project started so well, so happily! In those nascent narrative worlds, I sensed a fluttering of plotline possibilities, a quickening of characters. But the promising twinges faded. My confidence flagged. The writing began to feel forced, unnatural. False labor. I gave up and pretended to be productive by tweaking old pieces.

Only recently have I started writing again. I’m eight thousand words into this latest endeavor and handling the work gingerly, not seizing it too tightly, letting it scamper along as it will, following from a safe distance, and watching its progress out of the corner of my eye. I’m hoping if I move slowly and tiptoe page by page, I won’t scare the words away.

Even though my fall’s been fraught with failure, my kids have done well. They’re in good spirits and getting good grades, staying on top of their schoolwork and staying healthy. I’m grateful and relieved. Last schoolyear was rough, especially for our older child.

Speaking of our thirteen year old, this fall, she decided to give modified volleyball a try. This delighted my husband, who loves sports and grew up playing and watching them. I, on the other hand, was initially mostly stunned. My kids haven’t expressed much interest in competitive activities, besides a little intramurals, gymnastics, and dance. I figured they took after me. I never played sports. Nobody in my family did. While other families watched football on Sunday afternoons, we watched old Rodgers and Hammerstein musicals and sang along because we knew all the songs by heart.

But I’m so happy my kid made this decision. Her volleyball season was a terrific success. Not that her team won much. Not that my daughter played remarkably well. No, it was a success simply because she played.

Watching those volleyball games lifted my spirits. The coach was wonderful, correcting gently, praising generously. For every “Front row, you need to be ready to move forward, ready to move,” or “Toss it higher next time,” or “That was her ball. If you need to fly backward, it’s not your ball,” or “Get there and push it over. Don’t let it hit the net,” there were dozens more “Nice serve, Bailey!” “Good play, Summer!” “It’s all right, Ivy. Shake it off!” On one occasion, when my daughter dove to her knees but missed the ball, he made a big deal out of her attempt, and she scrambled to her feet, beaming. He regularly prompted the players to encourage one another, to cheer their great serves and praise their good efforts, and would actually instruct them on how to do this, urging them, “Now go over and gather around her…”

“You got this,” the players learned to say. “Come on! You can do it!”

More than the games themselves, I enjoyed these orchestrations of encouragement, these grand productions of praise. So many instances of grace.

I like when I see this sort of thing in the writing community, too—when we’re supportive teammates, a fellowship of makers, a community of creators. Each of us needs this community, especially when we’re struggling and fear we’ve forgotten how to write and worry about the hard things that can follow the writing, the rejection, criticism, and indifference.

An artist’s success—a publication, for instance—is hard-earned. We talk about gatekeepers in this industry, like agents, journal readers, editors, and publishers. The word fits. Any story, poem, essay, or novel that squeaks through such a grueling system of obstacles is, at the very least, good. It wouldn’t have been published if it weren’t, at the very least, good. I sincerely believe this. A publication deserves a loving celebration. I say, yay for Team Writers!

Sportsmanship is a beautiful skill, even in the sweat-free activity of writing, or perhaps especially in this activity, one that draws an audience that includes, among the millions of kind readers, some not so kind. These unhappy people lurk in the proverbial stands, armed with rotten tomatoes.

“You got this! You can do it! Good try!” we must tell one another.

And to myself: It’s all right, Melissa. Shake it off.

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Comments

  1. Maicon S. Schreiber says

    November 17, 2021 at 8:36 am

    Melissa, you got this! You can do it!

    • Karen Richau says

      November 17, 2021 at 11:20 am

      What a wonderful post. Encouragement of any kind is so good for the soul. Sportsmanship, which in many cases, has been thrown to the wayside is so great to see. You and your daughter are so lucky to have a coach like that!

      • Melissa Ostrom says

        November 18, 2021 at 4:58 am

        Oh, Karen, we really were lucky to get that coach! Thank you so much for reading and commenting on this post, friend. “Encouragement of any kind is so good for the soul.” Yes! And I’m grateful for YOUR encouragement! xoxo

    • Melissa Ostrom says

      November 18, 2021 at 4:51 am

      Maicon, this is so kind! Thank you!

  2. Deb Irsik says

    November 17, 2021 at 9:37 am

    Sometimes we all have to step back snd breath. Great food for thought. Thanks for sharing.

    • Melissa Ostrom says

      November 18, 2021 at 4:53 am

      I agree, Deb! 🙂 Thanks for reading my post, and thank you for the kind comment, too!

  3. Marsha McGregor says

    November 17, 2021 at 11:06 am

    Boy, can I relate to all of this. I have to tell myself and fellow writers that our creativity and craft skills are not finite, dribbling away until they’ve dried up. I try to think of them like the sun, rising and setting but always there, an unfailing source of renewable energy. It sometimes feels like it’s gone forever dark, but then, you look up one day and it’s like, “Would you look at that. And it’s been here all along .” Also, I’ve witnessed with my kids how a great coach can change lives. Thank you for this excellent blog post. It was just what I needed to hear.

    • Melissa Ostrom says

      November 18, 2021 at 4:55 am

      Marsha, I love that sun analogy, and I’m going to remember it the next time my writing life has sunk into gloom. Thank you so much for these wonderful reflections and the encouraging words, too!

  4. Jakky Bankong-Obi says

    November 18, 2021 at 2:35 am

    I love this so much Melissa! So relatable as I have a similar experience with my son who’s always been into sports/math/science but took a poetry class this school term hand has bloomed into a fine little poet. Feels like you reached inside the slow moving clog of my creative engine and poured much needed oil because I’m going to keep shaking it off and watching what blooms from “ handling the work gingerly, not seizing it too tightly, letting it scamper along as it will…”
    Thank you for this wonderful post ❤️

    • Melissa Ostrom says

      November 18, 2021 at 5:05 am

      Jakky, this is so kind! Thank you for reading this post–and for relating to it, too. I’m hoping your creative engine soon gets back to running more smoothly (and mine, too!). And it’s so neat your son shares your gift with words. That’s wonderful! xoxo

  5. Rebecca says

    November 29, 2021 at 12:29 pm

    I am cheering you on. You always do that for everyone else–such a model of writing team-spirit you are! I think we are so much harder on ourselves, with our writing, because we work for ourselves. When I imagine the lackadaisical performances I exhibited at various jobs, I think, at least I’m working harder than I was then! And it’s such a tricky balance. I’d love to do NaNoWriMo and feel accomplished, but November is my busiest month–kids’ birthday, Thanksgiving and Christmas prep. The work comes in waves. I give a lot to editing one month, reading the next. Here’s hoping the creativity muse visits us both over Christmas break!

    • Melissa Ostrom says

      November 29, 2021 at 5:36 pm

      Aww, Rebecca, you’re a sweetheart! Thanks for this encouragement–and for understanding, too. I really do hope that muse visits us over Christmas. I’ll take the muse over Santa any day! 😉

  6. Mom says

    December 28, 2021 at 3:53 pm

    Robbie did play tennis. I will not watch a volleyball game without remembering this blog, and my granddaughter. But, sadly, I only watch one once or twice a year. Rest assured though, I will still think of her daily.

    • Melissa Ostrom says

      January 19, 2022 at 4:18 am

      I forgot about Robbie playing tennis! I was a good ping-pong player, actually. Hate to brag. 😉 Thanks for reading this post, Mom!

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