Among the many things my wife and I have in common is our love for the Olympic Games. The pageantry, athletic skill and raw energy, plus a latent desire to travel the world, all capture our attention. While it is easy to reduce the Games to a medal count and a highlight reel of celebrations and crashes, there are universal lessons that shine as brightly as the Olympic Flame.
First, the key to success is preparation. Several vignettes and even commercials emphasize the years of practice, sacrifice and determination it takes for athletes to reach the top of their sport. When I think how the characters in my book have been “maturing” for the last 15-20 years, I get a small sense of the focus needed to strive for greatness.
Second, the support of friends and family is vital. When you hear about parents and siblings who gave up countless evenings and weekends while the athletes trained and spent thousands upon thousands of dollars to travel to events around the world, the crucial nature of communal support becomes apparent. I know I am so thankful for the friends who write positive reviews at Amazon or Goodreads, encourage their friends in person or on Facebook to purchase Chasing Deception or even buy copies to give away. The vast majority of any success I have achieved is because of their effort.
Third, the Games are about more than winning medals. People come from all over the world, often at great expense economically, politically and physically, to do the best they can in their chosen sport. Most of them will go home without a medal, but they still will be filled with the satisfaction they were part of something greater than themselves. In my own writing, I am not expecting to “medal”, but each time someone picks up my book I hope they will be entertained for a while and, if I’m fortunate, discover how some of the larger themes I address might be applicable to their own lives.
And like the Olympic Flame, I hope the power of those lessons never fade away.
I've been writing stories and taking photos since I was old enough to hold a pencil and stand behind a tripod.