James Scott Bell
@jamesscottbell
There he is. Jimmy Bell, age 10, crack third baseman for the Red Sox of the Sunrise Little League in Woodland Hills, California. He’s ready for anything. And his head is full of dreams.
He dreams of playing third base in the Major Leagues. Of playing it like Brooks Robinson, maybe the greatest defensive infielder of all time. He dreams of hitting like Mickey Mantle, but doing it all in Dodger blue.
The dreams keep him happy in the summer, when the smell of grass from the field and hot dogs from the Snack Shack create the aroma of the possible.
But then somewhere along the way, reality sets in. In its cold, nasty fashion it wakes him up and sets a full length mirror in front of him and says, “Look. Do you see your dream in here anywhere? No? That’s right. Because it ain’t gonna happen, kid.”
No one really likes reality all that much, do they?
Which is why you should give it a kick in the classifieds every now and then.
Which is what Jimmy Bell did after realizing his Major League career was a longer shot than William M. Gaines winning the Pulitzer Prize. (And if you don’t know who Bill Gaines is, read up on him, for he had a greater influence upon America than Henry Luce!)
My dreams switched to basketball. If baseball was my first love, basketball was my true love, the girl I wanted to marry. And working as hard as I could I became one of the best pure shooters in my town, which happened to be a big one called Los Angeles. I dreamed then of wearing Lakers gold.
In college, though, reality came calling again. This time, in the mirror, it showed me the body made of the DNA of my Irish and Scottish ancestors. A body that was not made for quickness or jumping but for klonking slow Englishmen on the head with rocks. Had I been deeded the body of a Jerry West or a Walt Frazier, I daresay I would be in the Basketball Hall of Fame today.
I refused, however, to let reality keep spoiling my parties. I started dreaming of an acting career, of becoming another Brando or Newman. Reality kept its distance this time. It knew I had a few good kicks in me. And it was going good there for awhile—Off-Broadway, commercials. Then I married a beautiful actress and decided that was a dream realized, and I wanted to support a family.
Thus, I went to law school, dreaming of becoming a famous trial lawyer. This was firmly within my grasp. But with two young kids and a long commute to a big law firm, reality whispered something to me: if you really want to be the best, you’re going to have give something up. Like time with your children while they’re young.
I downsized, opened my own office (with my dad, an L.A. lawyer), and was a seven minute drive from my house.
Hovering over all of this was another dream—of becoming a writer. Off and on, through boyhood and school years, I thought it would be wonderful to be able to write books and have people buy them.
But some mob hired reality as a hit man, because it kept shooting me down. It told me I didn’t have what it takes to be a writer. That I couldn’t ever learn how to do it. Its favorite phrase, spoken with a cigarette dangling from its lips, was, Writers are born, not made, kid. And you’re not a writer.
Rather than take more punishment, I put the writing dream away. But it came back, years later, in a movie theater. My wife and I were at a double feature. One film was Wall Street. The other was one I’d hardly heard of, Moonstruck. But that was the movie that knocked me out. It was one of those rare experiences that sweeps you up and holds you tight and makes you happy you’re alive.
And I knew I had to try the writing dream again. Had to. I wanted to write something that would move an audience like Moonstruck had moved me. Reality be hanged! I was going to shove reality out of a moving car on a steep grade.
I set out to do the thing reality said could not be done. I read books on writing. I devoured them. I subscribed to Writer’s Digest and highlighted the articles on fiction craft. A few years later I was a published novelist. Then I was making a living at it. Still am. Not bad for somebody who was “not born” to write.
So what would I say to Jimmy Bell, age 10, if I could go back in time? I’d tell him to keep on dreaming, but be ready to change dreams once in awhile. Work hard, drive toward what you yearn for, but also adjust to the curveballs life throws you. Maybe I’d even give him a few lines from Kipling’s If, just to show him he’s going to grow up and know some poetry:
If you can dream, and not make dreams your master;
If you can think, and not make thoughts your aim,
If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster
And treat those two impostors just the same…
If you can fill the unforgiving minute
With sixty seconds’ worth of distance run,
Yours is the Earth and everything that’s in it,
And, which is more, you’ll be a Man, my son!
So, if you had the chance, what would you tell your ten-year-old self?
If you can dream, and not make dreams your master;
If you can think, and not make thoughts your aim,
If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster
And treat those two impostors just the same…
If you can fill the unforgiving minute
With sixty seconds’ worth of distance run,
Yours is the Earth and everything that’s in it,
And, which is more, you’ll be a Man, my son!
So, if you had the chance, what would you tell your ten-year-old self?
Dear Ten year old Basil:
1. Don’t practice throwing the knitting needle into the couch, your aim is not as good as you think and they will find the hole in the wall
2. Don’t eat the questionably old lunch meat right before opening night of your 8th grade play
3. get better shoes when prepping to join the Marines
4. Use a smaller knife, and mind your fingers
5. That Korean girl you meet at 19…she’s the one…wait for her
6. Credit cards are not money
7. Minimize bacon intake, ditto for Alaska Brewing Co. Monk’s Mistress stout too hard to burn off the belly after
8. Write down those stories you make up for your kids or you will forget them
9. Left at Elmore and into the trees, quick as a cat, sting like a bee
10. Garlic
Great advice, Jim. And I love the line about the slow Englishmen. Indeed.
My advice to my ten year old self:
1) In a year, when your parents tell you the family is moving to Akron, run away from home and don’t look back.
2) Lose weight.
3) Don’t take that first drink.
4) When you ultimately move to San Francisco don’t come back to Ohio for law school.
5) Wait for what you want most instead of settling for what you want now.
6) Don’t let your school interfere with your education.
7) Please yourself first. Then work on helping others attain happiness.
1. Ignore the boys. They care not for your dreams. Wait until they grow up and even then, try looking beyond the hair and pecs.
2. Don’t take that first drag.
3. Go to university when your parents offer to pay.
Other than that, life’s been good.
Jim, Thanks for a post that’s both thought-provoking and inspiring. I have to look further back than most readers here to see that 10-year-old boy, and more of his subsequent history to review.
As life unfolded, I’d tell him to continue pursuing baseball–he wouldn’t play beside Mickey Mantle, but his love of the game would never fade, and he’d get to sit down one day with Mickey and swap stories.
I’d tell him that, even though his date to the prom was so-so, the marriage of forty years’ duration that lay ahead would be wonderful.
I’d tell him to follow the career path God laid out for him, but to be open to a new one just about the time he thought he’d retire to a life of leisure.
Man proposes, God disposes–but the end result can be better than anything we planned.
1) Look up, not down.
2) Be courageous.
3) Life isn’t fair, keep going, chin up.
4) You are stronger than you know.
5) The answer is within, quit seeking it out there.
6) Laugh, a lot.
7) Don’t think so much, you’ll end up being a writer.
8) To thine own self be true.
9) It’s okay to fail.
10) Yes, you can!
1. Your mother is slightly crazy. Love her dearly, but don’t go near the web.
2. Buy the book “Boundaries” as soon as it comes out (see #1).
3. Your father is a gem. Treasure him.
4. Believe in yourself more, and doubt yourself less.
5. Resist the temptation to compare yourself to others.
6. Those things that seem like good decisions? Stick with those, because you’ll thank yourself later.
7. Learn to play guitar.
8. Don’t let your subscription to Writer’s Digest lapse.
9. After you get married, be sure you and hubby build an emergency fund WAY bigger than you think it needs to be. Trust me on this.
10. Read attached list of things you should say “no” to. Write or take voice lessons instead.
11. Question more things.
12. In 2002, don’t let anything make you miss the space shuttle launch. You won’t regret it.
13. Don’t buy the daughter a horse.
14. When Hurricane Rita approaches, DO NOT evacuate.
15. You’re in for some incredible blessings in your life. Never forget to be grateful.
What a great exercise! (I too loved your line about the Englishmen.) I’m now thinking about the letter my 80-year-old self might write to my 50-year-old self and how that might affect what I choose to do tomorrow.
Jim,
Great advice. Very thought provoking. I’ve been sitting on the side-lines observing. Have really enjoyed your posts. Time to jump in:
Ten-year old self:
1. Don’t allow being “different” (heritage, religion,family) to diminish your perception of self-worth.
2. Toughen your hide. Jump into a time machine and travel to the future to read “Boundaries” (Cloud and Townsend). Don’t allow everyone to control you by jerking on your tender conscience.
3. Don’t confuse confidence with wisdom or knowledge. It’s okay to be the quiet one, to keep your mouth shut, to know you’re right.
4. When college, med school, residency, and private practice seek to consume you, raise those boundaries, recharge your batteries, and save time for family.
5. Take heed to those lines from Kipling. Treat Triumph and Disaster the same. Do not be overinflated by success. Don’t allow failure to take the wind from your sails.
6. Trust the Lord to teach you in those triumphs and disasters. Know that He has a plan for your life. Keep Proverbs 3:5,6 posted where you can read it daily. He will direct your path.
7.And finally (this is the one I got right the first time): When you’re pursuing your writing dreams, buy/read/reread/study all of James Scott Bell’s books on the craft of writing.
Really enjoyed your article in the last issue of Writer’s Digest. The article on Hugh Howey reminded me of the update on changing publishing contracts you gave in a past post. Would love to see a future post with your current thoughts on strategies for first-timers.
I went to see Moonstruck not knowing what to expect and was floored by Cage’s performance and the lines he had. And at times I still call the moon la luna.
I’d tell my ten-year-old self to write, hike, and invest in Apple.
It’s really interesting because over on another blog I follow (http://ordinary-gentlemen.com/) they just posted something about Fate vs Labor as keys to success, pointing out that among the top wage earners, most attribute their fortune to hard work, while among the lowest wage earners, fate is most often to blame.
I teach as my day job and I have to do this a lot of students, it seems, to ask them “that’s a great dream… but… ” I always feel horrible being that voice of reason, but I think a lot of them have this mistaken idea that they just need to dream it and it will happen. They miss that you don’t sit down one day and write the next Catcher in the Rye….
You were very adaptable in your dreams, readjusting your goals when faced with reality. When I was ten, I was devouring Nancy Drew books. I didn’t try writing a novel until many years later in grad school. I began collecting rejections. But the one that hurt the most back then was verbal. My husband’s boss’s wife said something to the effect that I couldn’t be a writer because I didn’t have enough life experience. Huh, what did she know? I’d lived through a range of emotions, and writers pull on these feelings to write our stories. Now 18 publishing novels later, I’m still chuckling over her snotty comment.
Please thank Little Jimmy Bell for Doctah Bell’s last two articles in Writer’s Digest.
Excellent post as I sit here contemplating my next evolution.
So, 10-year old self, listen up:
1. You are smart, but not as smart as you think you are. Slow down and let the adults drive sometimes.
2. In high school you are going to hit a period of being pretty, but socially awkward. Keep to the books. The answers you seek are there, not in the shallow attention of others.
3. When you catch the eye of “someone” on a balcony. Smile and keep on walking. It is not the answer you seek.
4. Hammer out high school. Don’t quit. Graduate with your friends.
5. Go straight to college. You do not need time to “find yourself.”
6. Leaving dad behind is the right choice. However, reach out to your brother. He is really troubled right now, but that will pass and he will leave you much too soon. Don’t get caught in his craziness, but don’t waste a minute of him.
7. Start writing down all that stuff in your head, NOW!
8. When Mobil offers you that transfer to Virginia, take it. Turning it down stalls your career forever.
9. You are going to meet someone at a toy show. I’m not saying keep walking. However, it is going to yield two things. The first is tragedy. The second is it will deliver you to who you are now, which is pretty darn good. But weigh it carefully, there are other paths.
10. Do not be afraid to reinvent yourself.
11. Write something every day.
Terri
Don’t be afraid of girls. They really are worth the effort.
1. Be creative, just don’t use a straw as a telescope while walking toward a wall.
2. Don’t give up, change direction.
3. You can’t change people, but you can choose which ones get to stay with you.
4. Becoming a computer programmer to save the world from Y2K will not make you famous.
Actually, the last one was more to my 20 year old self. 😀
We all tend to explain, comment on, or even assess a topic of study in an oral or mostly written form at all the colleges we study in from time to time. We may use examples of research proposals for free from Goodexamplepapers that would be a reasonable issue for the next couple of decades, i’m sure of it. Modern learning process is generally influenced by all fields of social life as well as politics and science. But luckily high-technologies are used to help students learn better.