4 Things Climbing Taught Me About Writing
- Brenna Davies
- May 23
- 6 min read
When I turned thirty, I decided I wanted to be more adventurous. For me, that meant getting into climbing, which my brother and his girlfriend had been doing for a while. When they first showed me the ropes (literally and figuratively), I was terrified.
Getting up on the wall, especially as a self-conscious small-fat person, made me uncomfortable. I felt like everyone’s eyes were on me and that they’d be judging how well I did or how long I took to climb a route. That wasn’t the case, though, and I am so glad I pushed through the discomfort.
Over the past year, climbing has taught me so much about myself and life in general. A few of these lessons apply to writing, and I’d like to share them with you.
Mindset matters.
How I approach climbing on any given day affects the entire experience. One time, we were at a climbing gym where the walls were 65 feet tall, and I was seriously struggling to finish a route. I took a ton of breaks, and I felt shitty afterward because of how much I struggled. My spouse insisted that I did well, but all I could see was how weak and unskilled I was.
Later, when I thought back on the climb, I realized that my negativity that day made climbing more difficult and drained all my fun from the experience. My mindset overshadowed the fact that I had just climbed a 65-foot-tall wall!
Since then, I’ve been working on approaching climbing with curiosity. I’m much more likely to enjoy myself that way, regardless of whether I fall or finish a route. Even injuring myself doesn’t matter as much if I’m having fun and exploring. In this mindset, success means having fun and growing, enjoying the journey.
The same thing applies to writing. If I tried to write something perfect from the get-go, I’d never publish a book. I’d spend forever revising and editing and questioning myself. It’s much better to enjoy the journey, accept that I’m human and therefore flawed, and write with the intention of getting better.
Showing up is the hardest part.
Although I’ve been climbing for about a year and a half as of this writing, there have been weeks and even months when I haven’t climbed at all. This happens sometimes—life gets in the way, days are busy, vacations throw off schedules.
Any time I take more than a week off climbing, the hardest part of getting back to it is showing up. I know my body will hurt more and I won’t be as strong because I took time off, so I dread going back to the climbing gym. The tasks of driving there, putting on my gear, and getting on the wall seem Herculean.
But if I focus on showing up—just that first step!—everything else falls into place. If I tell myself that all I have to do is drive to the gym, it doesn’t seem as daunting. And once I get there, it’s easier to get out of the car and go inside. Once I’m inside, it just makes sense to put my gear on. And before I know it, I’m back on the wall!
Writing is the same way. The idea of sitting down to write seems like a hassle at times, especially if I haven’t written in weeks or months. The empty page is like a monster, staring me down and making me freeze in my tracks so I can’t get anything done.
But if all I think about is sitting down with my laptop—just that first step!—I can do it. I sit my butt in my chair (or on my bed or my couch) and put my fingers on the keyboard. Once that’s done, it makes sense to open my outline and my WIP or a blank document. From there, I tell myself all I need to write is one sentence, or one word. And once that first word is on the page, it’s much easier to write an entire scene or chapter!
Showing up is difficult, but if you can take that first step, it’s easier to continue with the process.
Discomfort leads to growth.
Climbing is not easy, and at times it can feel like I’m stuck in place. The next hold looks too far away, or I’m terrified to even try a certain route because it looks daunting.
The climbing routes at my gym follow a rating system of 5.X for difficulty. My spouse and I sometimes fall into a trap of “That route is rated 5.X, which means I can’t do it.” We want to stay where we’re comfortable and climb what we know we can do. But if we do that, we’ll never get better at climbing. We’ll never progress to the next level.
I can’t count the number of times I’ve thought I can’t climb something and then I’ve successfully climbed it. Each time, I took a breath and pushed through the discomfort, and I surprised myself. I learned something new and improved my skill.
Even if I go for something and fall, it’s so much better than not having tried at all, because how will I know if I can do something if I don’t try it? Maybe next time, I’ll reach the hold no problem.
No matter how uncomfortable it is, trying something new and risking failure is how I improve my climbing skills.
It’s how I improve my writing skills too.
Writing in a new genre, trying a new writing exercise, or showing my work to people can be uncomfortable. But taking the risk, trying it, and learning from it is how I become a better writer.
When I wrote my second novel Of Love and Libraries, I pushed through my discomfort with feedback and showed it to my alpha readers, and they hated it. Their notes crushed me, and I could have let that ruin the entire publishing process. I could have shoved the manuscript in a drawer and let it rot.
Instead, I went back through the feedback and figured out exactly why my readers didn’t like it. The idea of revising the whole book was daunting, and I didn’t know if I could do it successfully, but I accepted my discomfort and pushed through it. Now, that book is my favorite in the series—possibly because I put so much work into it—and it was featured in a Rainbow Crate book box because other people love it too!
Practice makes progress.
As with any type of skill, climbing requires practice. I won’t get any better at it unless I show up (see the second tip above) over and over again for years. This can be frustrating and disheartening sometimes, which is where mindset comes in (see the first tip above).
When I first started climbing, I was climbing 5.5s and 5.6s, which are some of the easiest routes. I found it almost impossible to climb a 5.7. Now, I’m climbing 5.9s and 5.10s, and 5.7s are my warm-up climbs. That might not seem like a lot of growth, but it feels fantastic to know that I’ve mastered something I could barely do a year ago.
My commitment to my practice has helped me improve.
The same thing applies to writing. The first draft you write for any book will probably look very little like the final draft. First drafts are messy—some might say shitty. Often, they’re too short or too long and need finessing. Committing to writing by learning about the craft and practicing it will get that draft to where it needs to be.
When I wrote my first book A Tale of Two Florists, I went into it knowing that it would likely be the worst book I ever wrote. That might sound odd, but I see it as a good thing. It’s the worst book I ever wrote because it’s the first book I ever wrote.
I’ve learned since then. I’ve learned about story structure, my own process, and what I like and don’t like in my writing. I’ve learned what resonates with readers and how to better fit my genre. I’ve practiced my craft by writing short stories and more novels.
I can confidently say that my most recent book as of this writing, And They Were Neighbors, is much better than A Tale of Two Florists. Why? Because it’s my fifth book.
Do I regret writing and publishing that first book? Not at all! In fact, I needed to write and publish it to get to where I am today. We all start somewhere, and I’m fond of that book for being my beginning. I still enjoy the story too.
The more we practice, the better we get.
Your Writing Life
I encourage you to see how these lessons apply to your writing life. Here are a few questions to ask yourself:
What is my mindset around writing? What do I view as success?
How can I make showing up easier?
What discomfort do I need to push through so I can grow? What discomfort have I already pushed through that I can celebrate?
How can I commit to my practice? How have I already seen improvement since I started writing?
In addition, explore non-writing-related areas of your own life and see how you can learn from them as a writer. I’m confident that you’ll be able to find something relevant and enlightening.
Happy writing!
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