8 Lessons From Pickleball to Help You Become a Confident Author

I’m not a confident athlete. At all.

That fact was hard on me in my young adult years because my brother (the one who is featured on two of my book covers) can play any sport. You name it, and he can go all in and be crazy good.

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So I would find myself ducking and taking cover on a volleyball court. Or watching the tennis ball sail by without me having a prayer of touching it. Or enduring him playing nice in ping-pong so I could get a few returns in.

What does my lack of sports ability have to do with writing and pickleball?

As it turns out, quite a lot, so settle in.

In my early 20s, I was not a confident author. At all.

My stories sounded like a child wrote them, which was ironic because I was five years old when I wrote my first story. I didn’t do much to improve from that point, thinking I had to rely on how much “talent” I had (more on that later).

Now, 15 years later, I can say I’m a confident author.

But I never became a confident athlete, so when someone in our friend network announced he was organizing a weekly pickleball night, I took a step back. What was pickleball anyway? Was that a real sport? Could I get hurt and how bad?

But my mama, bless her, took a step forward. She was excited about trying pickleball.

So I inched forward, wondering if there would be benches I could hang around on, messing with my shoelaces. Our friend would have none of that, so I borrowed a paddle and got out on the court to give pickleball an honest try.

What I discovered about myself and my abilities after only two weeks thrilled me.

Before we dive in: First, for those with zero pickleball experience, I’ll try to explain the terms I use. For those who have played for years, forgive me if I explain terms wrong. I’m still a pickleball beginner. Second, my lessons stem mostly from years of fiction writing, though there are still powerful takeaways here for nonfiction authors.

With that, here are 8 lessons from pickleball that can help you become a confident author…as I become a confident pickleball player.

1. Keep your eye on the ball

Cliché as it sounds, above all the rules and the paddle materials and the scoring system is the absolute need to keep your eye on the ball. Above choosing to swing forehand or backhand, or whether to hit the ball before it bounces (volleying), nothing is more important than watching the ball closely—judging its trajectory, anticipating where it’s going to land, and moving yourself into position to hit it back over the net.

With fiction writing, at least for me, “plot” is the ball.

It’s easy to get distracted by the mechanics and the poetry of writing prose or chitchatting with the characters. Those elements are important when writing a story, but if you don’t keep your eye on the plot, your story falls apart.

2. Know where you are on the court

In pickleball, it’s important to have awareness of where you are standing, where the ball is headed, anticipate where it will land, and make your decision on where you need to be.

Did the ball land in the “kitchen” (the non-volley zone close to the net)? Am I in bounds? Where are my feet positioned when I hit the ball?

A lot to think about in every play.

When you are in a scene of your story, typing fast and furious (or speaking if you dictate like me), there is a lot to think about—the characters, their motivations, the setting, and the purpose of the scene: to drive the plot forward. Awareness is important for an author because you don’t want to get your scene, or even the entire story, off track when you are in the throes of a powerful scene and the words are flying across the page like a bright yellow pickleball.

You may make a mistake and knock the characters out of bounds. Once the play—I mean scene—is over, that’s a good time to assess how everything went down.

Did you keep the characters on track with the right dialogue and action that will advance the plot how you intended? If not, do you need to reassess the new direction you went that may have actually saved the scene? Or it may have gone in a better direction than you’d planned.

It’s best to stay in the flow of the scene while it’s rolling rather than stop in the middle to figure out if you should have swung higher on your last hit. Don’t worry about assessing everything until the scene is over—unless it’s clearly out of bounds. In that case, the play and the scene are over and you need to restart.

3. Practice in private and in public

As an introvert, anytime I’m in the public eye—whether standing in line at a grocery store or attempting a new sport—I feel like everyone is staring at me. I just want to blend into the scenery and be invisible.

That was me the first time I stepped onto a pickleball court. Actually, just walking into the gym, I felt like everyone turned to stare at me in my oversized T-shirt and faded workout pants. In reality, no one noticed I’d walked in.

I joined my mama and a few other ladies to practice serving. I tried the “volley serve” I’d seen on YouTube.

I hit air every time.

I quickly gave up. Everyone on my court really was watching me, so I switched to the easier “bounce serve.” That worked.

But I still wanted to do the volley serve, the act of releasing the ball and hitting it before it bounces.

The desire to master that new skill goes back to the mental blocks I wanted to overcome that were created from my many failed attempts in sports. I could never do the volley serve in tennis or ping-pong. It was always the girlish drop-and-bounce-and-hit.

But if determination and practice were truly the key, I would not get stuck there in pickleball.

While my mama and brother were working on a two-man project out on our land, I broke open my new paddle and pickleballs. I had 5 acres of pastureland and no one watching.

Why not?

I put on my cap to block out the sun, took a deep breath, and held the plastic ball in the air. I positioned my other hand with the paddle ready to strike. I picked a patch of broomsedge to aim for. I released the ball and swung.

Pop!

Not only did I hit the ball on my first try, it landed right by the patch of broomsedge.

Several practice shots later, I tucked away my gear with the knowledge that I could now volley serve on the court.

And I did, successfully volley-serving with everyone watching.

Writing a book, or any piece of content, is often a lonely endeavor. It’s just you and the computer screen. There are no people around or if they are, they have no idea the worlds you are creating on the screen. There is no pressure to perform (hopefully) and you can take all the swings you need to get it right.

But you can’t stay in the pasture hitting volleys all day.

You reach a point where it’s time to go public and put your writing out there.

Whether it’s posting on your blog or taking a chapter to a writer’s critique group or pitching your story to a literary agent, you need to get your writing out in the public.

Yes, you’ll still miss shots. Plenty of them. But keep in mind you’re simply practicing your craft in public. And it will get better with practice.

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4. Accept critique

As a beginner, I’m making a lot of mistakes in pickleball. And not even mistakes so much, I just flat-out don’t know the right way to do things.

In my first real game, my partner paused at the end of several plays to instruct me on how to do better:

Cover the middle line if I’m on the left-hand side.Don’t try to hit a ball over my head because it’s most likely sailing out of bounds.How to position myself for serves.

During his short instructions, my old, insecure self wanted to rear its trembling head. I wanted to either explain away my actions—which I did a few times—or politely excuse myself from the game because I didn’t agree with the critique.

But I learned to zip my lips and pay attention to the instructions.

If you want to advance beyond the beginner level as an author, critique is vital. But accepting it requires you to both suppress self-doubt and restrain overconfidence.

Self-doubt makes you feel you can never do anything right, and you’ll never be any better than you are now. Lack of humility leads you to believe you are better than you are now, and you couldn’t possibly benefit from critique.

So when you’re receiving critique as an author, it’s important to zip your lips.

It’s so, so tempting to want to explain away the bad reasons behind the plot you labored over, or to justify the zany character you find hilarious even though no one else does.

Listen to the critique.

The critique won’t always be spot-on, but going into it with the view that you can learn something no matter what level you’re on, will benefit you more than staying closed off in self-doubt or overconfidence.

We want to be confident authors who can receive critique with grace.

5. Some people will take it easy on you. Some won’t.

In life, there is unintentional intimidation and intentional intimidation.

All through my teen years of trying to play sports, I could tell when the guys were taking it easy on us girls. But with adrenaline pumping and instinct taking over, it was all I could do to scramble out of their way. That was unintentional intimidation.

I face the same thing in pickleball when I play with guys. I’m learning to play my best game around them. And they still take it easy on me, not always delivering the hard shots they know I can’t return.

You’ll meet experienced authors who generously share their knowledge with you. They won’t unload with both barrels, no matter how lame the piece is. It might be intimidating to hear them draw from their deep well of experience, but most follow the sandwich method:

Pick one thing they liked about the story. (Praise)Point out one thing that would help you improve. (Critique)End with something else they liked, or an overall word of encouragement about your writing. (Praise)

You will encounter those who are not willing to take it easy on you. They intentionally intimidate because they are more competitive, or feel you need to pay your dues. They won’t hesitate to smash a ball right at your face they know you have no chance of returning.

That’s okay.

Move on from those people.

There are plenty of us writers out there to offer you a hearty sandwich to sustain you as you grow into a confident author.

6. Talent vs. Hard Work

“He’s got talent.”

“She’s just naturally gifted.”

“I wish I could do that.”

For years, I held onto misconceptions about things I wasn’t good at that I wanted to be good at:

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One huge barrier broken for me was when I took up pencil drawing. (What? You can learn to draw even if you have zero natural talent because you see everything in words not lines?)

Still, because of my lack of confidence in sports, I was more hesitant about trying pickleball than I let on. I didn’t say anything because I was determined to not let mental and physical barriers hold me back from giving it an honest try.

And that’s why I’m becoming a confident pickleball player.

You can read all the previous reasons why someone like me can play well enough to enjoy a game, but it really comes down to this:

Practice more. Play more.

I have no talent or gifting in pickleball. But I’m willing to put in the work to become good enough to play a few games each week.

For some of us, it’s way more work than others. That’s okay. You can still get there if you practice.

There are some things you may not want to put that much effort into. And that’s okay, too. I just have to catch myself not blaming lack of talent. It’s lack of will and motivation or interest that’s holding me back.

Same with writing.

Sometimes people are told in grade school or even college that they have no writing talent. I’ve heard horror stories of a few flippant sentences mentally blocking people for decades from their dream of writing.

When I look back at my early stories, let me tell you…I didn’t have much talent to start with. 90% of what I’m able to create as an author came from sweat and tears and embarrassment at how awful I was at penning words.

I didn’t become a full-time writer based on talent or gifting. Yes, I do believe I was born to tell stories. This is the calling God has placed on my life.

But I didn’t step onto the court of writing ready to play with the champs. It was tiny steps—thousands upon thousands of words written; harsh self-editing; painful critique; practicing in public; and keeping my eye on the ball.

If you feel you aren’t talented enough to become a confident author, I will let you in on my secret: Confidence is earned through hard work.

If you are willing to work hard, you can become a confident author.

7. Keep swinging

This one is simple:

Don’t give up because you keep missing the ball. Or you’re struggling to volley serve. Or you fear going head to head with better players.

Don’t give up because you didn’t win a writing contest. Or land your dream agent. Or you received harsh feedback.

Keep swinging at the ball even if you hit air the last time.

Keep writing through the pain of discouragement.

8. Have fun

This one is even simpler:

Playing pickleball is work.

Writing is work.

But both endeavors are also fun. Enjoy the process and every phase of it.

How to Gain Confidence

Am I now a confident pickleball player? Not quite. But with instruction, practice, and playing real games, I’m gaining confidence in what I’m capable of, and I’m convinced I can get better from here.

It’s the same for you as an author.

Given the right instruction, ways to practice, and real-world implementation, I believe you can become a confident author.