QWF Writes

Tag: practice

  • To Write Well, Learn from the Badminton Court—By Pascale Duguay

    To Write Well, Learn from the Badminton Court—By Pascale Duguay

    “Don’t rush your serve,” I called to an enthusiastic senior student during our badminton match.

    “But Miss, I can catch people off guard this way.”

    “Don’t rush your serve,” I insisted.

    “But Miss, I’m ready!”

    “No, you’re not. Your feet are still moving. You’re off balance. Your shot is off. You’re not focused.”

    A glare. An audible sigh.

    I could tell she wanted to tell me to mind my own business and go back to the library where I belonged, but I stood my ground.

    Most of the high school students I see on a daily basis don’t think of me as anything more than their librarian. I totally get that, since I used to be a teen. When I impulsively asked the coach if I could join the kids at practice, I didn’t know if my body would be up to the challenge, but I allayed my fears by telling myself that even if I couldn’t perform at the level of my youth, I could at least share some of the dusty bits of knowledge stored in my brain. Even though I had not played badminton seriously in at least twenty years, I still remembered how to hit a proper serve.

    “Don’t rush your serve,” I repeated again and again throughout our match.

    What my opponent didn’t know was that I needed the reminder as much as she did. In the heat of the moment it’s easy to get carried away, to want to speed things along. Although badminton is a fast sport, it’s not about rushing. It’s about being in control—of yourself, not your opponent. If you can control yourself, you can dictate the pace, the direction, the energy, the flow, and eventually the outcome. And it all starts with your serve.

    That night, as I checked my alarm clock, I was tempted to set it for later than usual to give my aching muscles a couple of hours of extra rest. But that meant I would have to skip my morning rituals. As I pondered the pros and cons, I realized that my writing life also needs a solid foundation. It can’t get off to a good start if I don’t first make sure everything I need is in place. For me, this means starting my day at 5:15 so I can do my morning pages à la Julia Cameron. I use this moment to cleanse my mind as I write down everything that enters my head, from the most mundane (I need to stop by the post office after work), to the most brilliant flashes of genius (I could write an essay about badminton). No matter where my thoughts begin, they inevitably point me to how I can best use my writing time later on.

    As I scribble away, I underline important thoughts and ideas so I can easily find them again when I review my musings. Three full pages later and I feel like a brand new me, ready to face the day and with my mind open to any guidance I might receive from my muse or fellow earthly beings.

    When my three pages are done, I move on to my workout. In a way, it’s the physical equivalent of my morning pages. It helps me stay grounded and strong so that I have the energy I need to write in the evenings.

    Once these two things are taken care of, I can start my day fully in control. I know what I wish to achieve and the path I will take to get there, while feeling confident that I will have the stamina to see it through. Just as preparing for the serve lays the foundation in badminton, my morning rituals stop me from blindly rushing into the day. They help me stay on course so my writing doesn’t get permanently buried under the day’s demands and distractions, but can resurface when the time finally comes for me to grab my writing tools and let the words fly.

    Pascale Duguay

    Pascale Duguay is a freelance writer, high school librarian, and translator (French/English). She resides in the lively bilingual community of Quebec’s Eastern Townships. Pop in for a visit at pascaleduguay.com, where you can sign up for her sporadic but fantastic newsletter on the writing life.

    Photo credits:
    “Olympics 2016 Sindhu”by chaitanyak is licensed under CC BY-NC-SA 3.0
    (header image); Jennifer Brown (headshot)

     

  • Dreadlines: Conquering the Fear of Submission—by Nicola Sibthorpe

    Dreadlines: Conquering the Fear of Submission—by Nicola Sibthorpe

    I am bad at submitting my work. Too often I build up rejection in my mind to be a personal commentary on my writing and on my future as a writer. Yet rejection, as any writer can tell you, is anything but final.

    First there is the self-rejection. I find it difficult to tell when a piece of work is done. I nitpick and fuss over it during the editing process until I resent the work. All I see are its faults. When I feel like I can still improve upon it, I don’t want to submit a piece to an editor or contest judge.

    Setting aside a piece is sometimes the most effective way of continuing to love a piece. I can return to it weeks, or months, or even years, later to rediscover the bits that worked and fix the parts that didn’t. I find editing difficult to do until I’ve put distance between myself and the work. Confidence is important in publishing, and it’s easier to be confident in my abilities as a writer when I can read the work as an outsider.

    “I nitpick and fuss over it during the editing process until I resent the work.”

    Then there’s the fear of outside rejection. The faceless and powerful jury intimidates me. I wrote the poem, “Artemisia Absinthium,” in the first year of my undergrad, and the editing I did for it was minimal. I remember the poem developed naturally from its source material. It poured out in one sitting. I was excited and passionate about it, and I remained so when I submitted it the first time to Headlights, a journal published by graduate students in the English Department of Concordia University.

    This was my second time submitting to a publication, and I saw it as a low-risk way to practice the process. Having it accepted gave me the boost in confidence I needed to begin considering larger competitions and publications.

    Less than a year later, I submitted the now-published poem to the QWF Literary Prize for Young Writers. It felt like the next step. I had submitted my piece to a journal that was unpaid and circulated almost exclusively within Concordia, and now I could submit it to a competition that was professionally judged and would potentially reach a wider audience.

    Submitting it was hard, but waiting for a response was easy. I had been working on making rejection a thing to look forward to, saving each email and using them as a mark of pride. The best ones included a note of encouragement or advice that I could proudly print off to remind myself that I was learning and growing as a writer.

    “I had been working on making rejection a thing to look forward to, saving each email and using them as a mark of pride.”

    Submitting to the QWF prize was the culmination of several important lessons and writing practices. When I heard the positive news—I’d won!—what was even more exciting than receiving the award was receiving the jury’s comments. I am a staunch believer in the work no longer belonging to the author once it has been released into the world. One of the most rewarding parts is learning what other people thought of a piece without your input or thought process. Having the opportunity to share my work with a larger community, and to meet so many wonderful Quebec and Canadian authors at the QWF Awards Gala, is an experience I will cherish fondly for the rest of my life.

    NicolaSibthorpeLindaMorra
    Nicola Sibthorpe receives the inaugural QWF Literary Prize for Young Writers for a published short story, poem or work of non-fiction by writers age 16 to 24. You can read Nicola’s winning piece, “Artemisia Absinthium,” in Carte Blanche.

    NSibthrope_headshotNicola Sibthorpe is a Montreal-born, Creative Writing MA student at Concordia University. She is interested in folktale and mythology, and the subversions that accompany them. She was the inaugural winner of the QWF’s Literary Prize for Young Writers in 2017. Beyond spending her days writing, she is also a teacher, and she enjoys spending time with her cat and a good cup of tea. You can find her on Twitter @NicolaSibthorpe.

    Photo Credits: Roy Blumenthal (header banner); John Fredericks (Nicola Sibthorpe receives prize); Michael Araujo (headshot)