by Eric Weiss
This is a story about jiu-jitsu. But to get there, we have to talk about writing first.
Hello! My name is Eric, and I’m the Community Manager here at The Story Engine. I run our social accounts, our customer service inbox, and write a lot of our emails, and I’m also one of the writers on Lore Master’s Deck.
Before that, I wore a number of different writing hats. I started as a playwright, jumped into video game criticism, dabbled in narrative design, blogged for a law firm, and did a stint as a tech journalist with a focus on biometrics.
All of which is to say that I’ve done a lot of writing over the years. Along the way, I learned one very difficult lesson:
Writing is demoralizing. At times, this job has been everything I ever hoped it would be. It was creatively fulfilling and financially rewarding, and I really thought I could fulfill my dreams of being a rich and famous critic and/or creative writer.
Each time, that dream would slip through my fingers. A contract would end. A play would close. A round of layoffs would occur. And I’d be back waiting tables and writing corporate copy.
I’ve had a good go of it (as far as writing goes). I've gotten to work on some amazing projects, up to and including The Story Engine.
But perspective is important. Writing can be demoralizing because it’s rarely what you want or expect it to be. The quality of my work never seemed to have anything to do with my success. That can cause problems if you've tied your writing to your self-worth. I poured myself into passion projects that never found an audience. I got laid off for reasons outside my control.
That kind of uncertainty gets harder to deal with the longer it goes on. It hurts to get rejected. Why keep going when there's no guarantee? It’s safer to do less, to save your energy and convince yourself that trying is pointless when you know it won’t work out even if you do what you set out to do.
I’ve fallen into that trap more than once – and that brings me to Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu, my preferred form of exercise for the past 10 years.
I say preferred because jiu-jitsu hasn’t always been an option. Grappling is one of the least socially distant activities one can participate in, necessitating a three-year hiatus during the pandemic. I returned to the sport in January of 2023, and those first six months were some of the hardest I’ve had on the mats.
In fact, you could say it was demoralizing.
My body wasn’t used to sparring anymore. The little aches and pains felt so much worse than they did a few years ago. Youth in sports is an advantage that never comes back, and I honestly didn’t know if it’d ever feel the same again. I thought maybe I’d missed my window. That time had finally caught up to me and I wouldn’t be able to do this thing I love in the way I want to do it.
But I stuck with it. Gradually, my body got stronger, the muscle memory came back, and it all paid off with the best year I’ve ever had in the sport. Most notably, I won a bronze medal at the World Masters tournament at the end of August – a goal I’ve been pursuing since my first trip to Las Vegas in 2018.
It's the biggest high I’ve ever experienced as an athlete – something so invigorating that it makes you want to take on every other challenge in your life (like a novel, for example).
So how did I do it - and what does that have to do with writing?
I wish I could tell you there was some magic secret. Some step-by-step guide you can follow to do what I did. But the truth just isn’t that dramatic.
I kept showing up. I went to the gym when I was tired. I went when I was hungover. I went when I simply didn’t want to go. I did it because I love it, and I knew I had to show up if I wanted to get better.
That’s ultimately the mentality you need to pursue writing, or any other endeavor. You may not see success right away. You might never see success (at least not the kind that comes with fame and riches). You do it because you love it (even when you hate it). You do it because you know the grind will make you more resilient and your writing will get better. You do it because a slim chance is better than no chance at all and you know you’ll never accomplish your goals if you give up now.
Have faith in the process. Put more words on the page. Keep doing what you’re doing. Especially when it hurts.
P.S. It will always hurt. I injured myself three days after the tournament and haven't been able to train since. But it's just one more obstacle I can overcome.
