I Am Not A Volleyball Player (Identity Crisis and Specialization)

I’m flying back from China, crammed in the last seat in the back of the plane, writing this in between movies and short, uncomfortable naps. This post is to announce the upcoming release of my book, Good Blood (The Descendants of Terene, Book #1).

This post is also me working through an identity crisis.

I started writing a fantasy action novel in November of 2016. It was fun in foresight, work at the time, and an accomplishment in hindsight. It was a big project to undertake and I “ate the elephant” piece by piece, in the mornings before my son woke up or I headed off to practice, and the occasional afternoon trip to the library.

I finished the first draft in six months. A full manuscript at 125,000 words.

The revisions and edits took up the next year and a half.

Now here I am, heading into November of 2018 with not one but two stories to share with the world. And by world, I mostly mean a handful of friends and the small butt crack in the Venn Diagram of Volleyball Players and Fantasy Readers.

This wasn’t a smart business strategy. To write a fantasy book with no ties to volleyball when the majority (all?) of my readers/followers/connections are volleyball players. (Maybe I should rewrite it to include a popular fantastical game…“volley-quidditch?”)

But I wrote Good Blood because it was the story I wanted to tell, target audience be damned.

Now, it’s gotten me thinking about these other interests that are sprouting up like rouge branches on the tree of my life. A tree that, for the first 35 years of my life, had been a perennial volleyball tree.

I Am A Volleyball Player

Growing up, volleyball was everything. I played in my first tournament with my dad at ten years old, and I’ve been competing ever since. My school notebook was filled with cut out pictures of Karch Kiraly and Jose Loiola and Eric Fonoimoana. When I finally reached high school and got to play on the volleyball team, it felt like the biggest thing in the world.

In the summer gap between high school and club seasons, I played beach and grass tournaments with my friend Nils Nielsen. I went to college for volleyball. I met my wife playing professionally on the AVP. All my friends are volleyball players. I see my family around holidays and volleyball tournaments.

Almost all my connections can be tied to volleyball. It’s a huge part of my life, but it’s not all of it.

Though, it’s taken me a long time to realize it.

I Am A Writer?

I’ve had other interests, but they always took a backseat to volleyball. Growing up, I had a comic book company with my brothers and a cousin (all of whom I fired on numerous occasions for lack of dedication). I always enjoyed my English classes and found encouragement from my teachers. This led to studying Creative Writing in college.

Writing—or, more accurately, thinking about writing—always took up a small part of my concentration. From my childhood superhero ripoffs to “literary” short stories in college to screenplays and Kinda Good Videos in my twenties.

I’ve always been a creative sponge, heavily influenced and swayed by the content I take in. I see a Sylvester Stallone movie I want to make an action movie. I hear a Dylan song, suddenly I think, maybe I could start a band. The main reason I wrote a fantasy novel was that I had just read The Name of the Wind.

I often saw this spinning creative compass as a problem. If I’d just focus and put all my energy into one thing, forsaking the rest, then surely I’d be farther along. My writing and podcasting and filming must take away from my volleyball, right?

Yes and no. There’s a balance between prioritizing what’s important—you really can’t do everything—and having a healthy variety in your life.

I Play Volleyball (Separating You From What You Do)

“I’m a volleyball player”

“I play volleyball.”

There’s a difference between these two statements. It’s dangerous to have my identity solely tied to volleyball. One bad tournament and I’m wrecked for weeks. I worry what people think about “Billy the volleyball player.”

Impostor Syndrome: He’s not that good. He doesn’t belong here.

If my identity is Billy the Volleyball Player, my happiness is out of my control, tied to my latest results.

Another reason this is dangerous is because volleyball can be taken away. If I’m injured or get in an accident that prevents me from playing, then who am I?

That’s why it’s important to make this distinction. Volleyball is super important to me—I’ve put so much time and energy and work and heart into it, and it’s given me so much in return—but it’s something I do, not who I am.

Person first, player second.

Maybe other interests popping up is a sign that my career is waning. Or maybe it’s okay (and healthy) to be well-rounded and to do other things.

There are more hours in the day than I can spend practicing, lifting, stretching, watching video, etc.

A lot of players spend their off-time playing video games. I’ll write books. Or podcast. Or make silly videos.

I’m giving myself permission to branch out.

I’m reminded of the Robert Heinlein quote often mentioned by John Kessel.

A human being should be able to change a diaper, plan an invasion, butcher a hog, conn a ship, design a building, write a sonnet, balance accounts, build a wall, set a bone, comfort the dying, take orders, give orders, cooperate, act alone, solve equations, analyze a new problem, pitch manure, program a computer, cook a tasty meal, fight efficiently, die gallantly. Specialization is for insects.

-Robert Heinlein

They even bring me food and drinks!

I Wrote a Book

It feels weird promoting Good Blood on this site (“a mostly volleyball blog”) but maybe a small portion of my readers would also be interested in reading some fiction. Maybe you have interests other than volleyball, too.

None of us are insects.

I also wrote a short prequel story to my book.

It’s available for FREE to my blog readers who sign up for Billy’s Book Readers email list.

I hope you enjoy it. Good Blood comes out in November.