Simone Biles, and trying too hard.

Art is a funny thing. Creating your best work is often a tortuous process; yet, at the same time, you need to be relaxed, at least to a degree. It’s such a contradiction. I think that athletes – who, in a sense, are artists too – understand this well. It’s the balance between furiously applying a craft you’ve studied for years, and at the same time letting go. If I look back at the better work that I have made, there has always been one thing in common – a period when, however brief, the writing seemed to tumble out, as if it were already there.

It’s possible, as a writer, to want success too much. That often manifests itself in contorted plots, or overly-descriptive prose. I guess the sporting equivalent is the over-hit putt or pass, the relay baton that you drop because your hand’s too rigid. The most successful writing I have ever done, in my view, was that where the work felt almost underwritten; where I had stripped back everything to the point where it felt almost banal. If I have one rule as a writer, it’s this: keep it simple, but never basic. There’s a cliche about how you need to be desperate in order to make it as an artist, but I don’t think that’s wholly true. I definitely think you need a yearning of some kind, but all of the best artists manage to find their greatest poise, their deepest calm, in the midst of that desperation; that’s why Simone Biles, the world watching her for any hint of a slip, still plants her feet with perfect firmness, and grins her way into history.

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