What Can Evel Knievel Teach Us About Writing?

On Being a Daredevil

by

Mark Lee Pearson

“Where there is little risk, there is little reward.”

Evel Knievel

When I was a kid in the 1970s, I wanted to be like the greatest bike rider of all time, Evel Knievel.

From the time I was eight years old until I was about twelve I spent all my free time practicing jumps over my little brother as he lay in the road, standing on the saddle as I freewheeled down busy high streets, bunny hopping up and down kerbs, and trying out every trick in the book.

Now, luckily for me my parents could only afford to buy me a Raleigh Chopper. The injuries I sustained were minimal. If eight-year old me had been in charge of a Harley Davidson like the great daredevil himself, it wouldn't have been just broken bones and mashed up organs, I would definitely have ended up on a slab. (Along with my fearless little brother...)

The point I am trying to make here is that I threw every little piece of my energy into becoming Evel Knievel. The great daredevil himself said,"Where there is little risk, there is little reward." When I was on my bike, I believed with all my heart that I was him. And little by little I saw my skill as a cyclist improve with each trick I mastered. By the time I was twelve I was invincible on a Raleigh Chopper!

“You come to a point in your life when you really don't care what people think about you, you just care what you think about yourself.”

Evel Knievel

Of course, I gave up on my pre-pubescent daredevil dream of being Evel Knievel years ago. Though emulating the great was an important stage in my growth, I know now that it is important to explore my own individual strengths in order to achieve a measure of greatness.

I am a writer now and I am grateful for the lesson that Evel Knievel taught me when I was eight.

I never gave up on that daredevil spirit. I kept taking risks with everything I put my hand to. I became a disc jockey, I formed a record company, I gave up a job in engineering to study philosophy, I studied abroad, I moved to Japan...


I became a writer.


Just as I got back on my Raleigh Chopper every time I fell off--whatever injury I sustained--I now keep submitting my fiction to publishers and magazines, because I believe with all my heart that I have what it takes to be a great writer.

Of course, the rejections pile up. But, you know what? It doesn't matter. It doesn't matter because I can sleep at night knowing that I am doing my best to achieve a measure of greatness.

What am I doing?

1) Writing every day.

2) Finishing what I write.

3) Submitting what I write.

I listen to the advice of others and try to improve my craft. I listen to feedback and try to incorporate it into my stories without compromising my ideas. I take a rejection as a sign of success. At least I can say I was daring enough to try.

I hope you are daring enough to try too.

In the spirit of Heinlein

In the spirit of Heinlein's first rule, I wrote until 11:30 last night.

In the spirit of Heinlein's second rule, I completed a draft of a story that has been kicking about on my hard drive for a couple of months.

In the spirit of Heinlein's third rule I will not re-write what I wrote yesterday (though I might tweak it a little to suit submission guidelines--which is in effect editorial request).

In the spirit of Heinlein's fourth rule I will send it off tonight.

And if/when the rejection comes back, I will, in the spirit of Heinlein's fifth rule, send it on out again, and again, and again.

Heinlein's Rules

Time out to assess where I am according to Robert Heinlein. From his 1947 essay "On the Writing of Speculative Fiction."



HEINLEIN'S RULES FOR WRITING


1. You must write.
I have close to one hundred short stories in various stages of development and three unfinished novels. Okay, so I write. Unfortunately I've been slacking recently. It's time to get back on target.

2. You must finish what you write.
To date I have finished about one third of the short stories I have started. Must get cracking on the other two thirds.

3. You must refrain from rewriting, except to editorial order.
Okay. I am guilty of tweaking the odd story when it turns up in my rejection box. Who wouldn't? Sorry Robert, I sometimes fail here, but I am learning to let go of my babies.

4. You must put the work on the market.
Check box. To date I have submitted 33 stories to 82 different markets.

5. You must keep the work on the market until it is sold.
15 acceptances.
88 rejections.
8 submissions lost in the ether, probably never to be seen again.
12 stories pending response.

What is the use of a story that is not told. What is the use of letting a story rot away on the hard drive? Time to set a goal. I'm not going for numbers here. I'm going for persistance, because what Heinlein is saying is clearly that if you are persistant and keep throwing it, some will stick. From today, I will be more persistant in my efforts to get my stories out there for the world to read.