My day job is a sports coach (or, rather, evening and weekend job because that’s when the coaching happens). I’ve worked with hundreds of athletes, and a few dozen have gone on to compete at International, Paralympic, Olympic, and/or professional levels.
Me, in my day job.
The word ‘talent’ is often bandied around in sporting circles, alongside ‘elite.’ The latter is easier to define: there are only so many people in the world who have won an Olympic gold medal or run a sub-10 second 100 metres race, for example.
Talent is harder to define and, in my opinion, misused more often. If someone wins something at a younger age, they are described as ‘talented’ but they are often either: older in their age group, an early maturer, or have more coaching hours in them compared to other children (or all three).
Coaches get excited when they see the big, fast kid steamrollering little, weaker kids and often encourage parents to invest more time and money into their young prodigy.
However, and I am writing from long experience, there is no guarantee that the prodigy will succeed at a higher level: when others catch up (there are outliers in every scenario. Tiger Woods is often used as a cherry-picking example to support a limited viewpoint).
‘Talent’ is often used by lazy journalists (the type who describe any town outside of London as either ‘sleepy’ or ‘leafy’ or both) who love the mythical wunderkind and ignore the backstory of work, sacrifice and luck (all of which play a part in sporting success).
What’s this got to do with writing?
Is there such a thing as a ‘writing talent?’ I don’t know how we’d categorise that, let alone measure it. If talent is innate, then there might be a million ‘talented’ writers who are illiterate and have never had the opportunity to read a book, let alone write one.
That sounds silly, I know.
‘Talent’ without opportunity, luck, and perseverance will never be realised, no matter what the field.
So when people call a writer, ‘talented’ what do they mean?
The latest review of my novel, The Poster. Generous praise but I’m not ‘talented.’
Charles Dickens wrote, ‘The Pickwick Papers,’ when he was 24! How?
S.E. Hinton wrote, ‘The Outsiders,’ when she was 17! Come on! Have you met a 17-year-old nowadays?
I would suggest Dickens and Hinton were ‘talented’ because they wrote great books at a young age: before they had time to develop their skill and craft. Dickens, at least, got better with age.
There are many other examples of great novelists and essayists whose writing is sublime and makes the whole thing seem effortless but I doubt if it was.
Mary Gaitskill (see below) in an essay she wrote about Nabokov’s, ‘Lolita,’ said:
“I did not have at 23 the vocabulary or the skill to describe a scene like this…”
So she has improved with time and a lot of practice.
I know writing is hard work for me. Not the initial scribbling and musing where words go on paper, but the editing, structuring, and plot developments to make a story coherent and, hopefully, meaningful. I’m scrabbling around the foothills to reach the ‘good’ category.
My fiction writing has improved since I started in 2018 and it’s got nothing to do with talent. Here’s why:
Having great writing tutors: Jenny Kane, Ian Ayris, the Gotham Writers faculty, and a good editor, Catherine Coe.
Writing almost every day since I started: there’s no substitute for putting pen to paper.
Putting myself into good writing rooms: listening to writers better than myself every week inspires, educates, and motivates me. So does listening to people from different backgrounds.
Sharing my work and listening to the feedback: as a sports coach, and erstwhile athlete, I know how to give and receive constructive feedback and act on it.
Read great books: I think I absorb some fraction of what I read through osmosis. (Remember that computer programming mantra: GIGO? Garbage In, Garbage Out.)
Talking of Great Writers
In a recent GWW ‘Writing Fiction’ class, the tutor shared a paragraph written by Mary Gaitskill. I’d never heard of Gaitskill but her writing was precise and funny. It made me want to read more so I borrowed the above book from the library.
Gaitskill’s essays are nuanced, intelligent and cover some difficult subjects (the first is about date rape). I forget the last time I was this impressed with someone I’d never read before (non-fiction).
In an age of simplicity where talking heads are getting arthritic knees from all the jerking, it is a pleasure to read something that forces me to think. Gaitskill covers a lot of ground and shows great balance.
Highly recommended.
Finally, Pen to Print published my flash fiction piece, ‘The airing of grievances,’ yesterday.
James,
Thanks so much for sharing this reflection. I related to so much in it. It is a struggle as a writer when you recognize good writing and aspire to it but aren't always sure how to get there. Ira Glass has spoken prolifically about how producing a lot is the only way to get good. And sometimes, it seems there is a sentiment that you can just "whip something up." So, your acknowledgment of time, learning, dedication, and practice is something I appreciate. We'll just keep working our way there!
Like the sports analogy. Both processes are very similar. However, an athlete will be rewarded commensurate with his/her ability. Not so the writer. I'll give an example. The athlete with a pro contract will get the most social media followers. Whereas the writer with the most social media followers will get the pro contract.