Carol Newman Cronin's Blog, page 31

Recipe-free Sailboat Racing

On a recent winter afternoon, as my sister and I were putting together our Mom’s birthday dinner for eight, we joked (again) about our opposite cooking styles. She’s a doctor, and quite detail-oriented, so she always cooks to a recipe. I, on the other hand, might take initial direction from someone else’s instructions, but every meal I’ve ever produced has eventually wandered off course. An added spice here, an ingredient substitution there: I cook the same way I write, by the seat of my pants.

What I’ve only recently realized is that sailboat racing often rewards not following the recipe. With so many variables, there’s no way to anticipate and plan every winning move. Instead, we have to be ready to improvise when our carefully researched forecast doesn’t pan out—or when we fail to get off the starting line cleanly enough to execute the game plan.

My strength is punching the reset button without abandoning hope or persistence, which makes it easy to adapt on the fly. My weakness is sticking to the recipe, even when it’s working. Fortunately, my smart crew forces me to at least justify my thoughts before recklessly abandoning our plan, which keeps us closer to that perfect middle ground: proper preparation, spiced up with improvisation. It’s definitely possible to get too set in our ways, but it’s also possible to abandon the plan too early, producing something that, while edible and maybe even race-winningly delicious, can never again be reproduced.

I’ve always thought of writing, sailing, and cooking as completely separate skills, so it’s a real thrill when one provides insight into another. Cooking with my sister taught me more about my seat-of-the-pants approach than hanging out with like-minded recipe-rejectors ever would. It also reminded me that combining two different approaches can produce a great meal.

Got a thought about how our personalities bleed over into disparate aspects of our lives? Share it in the comments below. I read and appreciate every single (human) response, so thanks!

Advance Reader Copies: Squee!

There is nothing, absolutely nothing, half so inspiring as receiving a delivery of my own books. The joy of seeing cover and interior designs packaged with story, at last, combines with the anticipation of finally sharing this beauty with an audience bigger than beta readers. Though I’ve been receiving boxes like this since 2008 when Oliver’s Surprise first appeared in the world, the most recent delivery of Ferry to Cooperation Island ARCs (Advance Reader Copies) was even more thrilling. I’m guessing it’s like bringing a fourth child home from the hospital; finally, there’s a unique and fully-formed creation to show off, after so many months (years) of personal, internal dreaming about it.

Why ARCs?

21st century ARCs could easily be mistaken for the actual book; the only difference is that round label on the front cover and “not for sale” text on the back. Thanks to print-on-demand publishing, it’s now more cost-effective for publishers to produce almost-books than what used to be called galleys. I remember my grandmother proofing her books by flipping through oversized, loose pages—though hopefully the copies mailed out for review were bound together, somehow.

I never received ARCs for the previous books, because they each went straight from digital proof to print. So when this box first arrived, I have to admit I wasn’t completely sure what to do with them. Fortunately, my publicist already had a distribution plan designed to maximize pre-publishing buzz and interest. (It includes a small number of private readers, so if you’re interested in reviewing the book, please send me an email ASAP.)

Advance Readers Copies are a visible next step on Ferry’s progress out of the author’s nest and into the world. Though it seemed like forever to wait sixteen months when the publishing date was first announced, June 2020 is suddenly right around the corner.

Meanwhile, you can pre-order the book through Bookshop (which will benefit your local independent bookstore) or on Amazon, and it will be delivered in whatever form you prefer on June 16, 2020. I’m currently scheduling book signings, so I’ll keep you posted on that schedule as it firms up—and maybe we can meet in person, thanks to this fourth novel. I can’t wait to hear what you all think about this latest story!

PS: Attention (Snipe) sailors!

Ferry’s pub date is obviously a red letter day on my 2020 calendar, but I also have several important regattas scheduled for this year and I’ll continue to blog about one-design racing as well. (Stay tuned next week for a discussion about how racing sailboats compares to cooking… )

And if you have a question about the publishing or writing process, add it to the comments below, or send me an email. Thanks for reading… and, SQUEE!

It Takes a Fleet: Pre-Race Discussions

A few weeks ago, Kim and I finished second at a Snipe regatta that we were winning right up until the last race. Several lessons can be taken from that “failure,” most of which I’ve learned before and some of which I’ve written about already. Today I want to focus on the importance (and pleasure) of pre-race discussions, because the absence of a few particular friends caused me to make a mistake in sail choice that I won’t soon forget.

Both teammate Kim Couranz and inspiration Gonzalo “Old Man” Diaz give great boat-park advice—and they also keep me laughing.

We had a great three-race day on Saturday and went into Sunday as regatta leaders. Looking around the boat park that chilly morning, I didn’t see any teams changing out their mainsails—so I, too, stuck with the same one I’d used the day before, even though the forecast was for more breeze (and my wise teammate nodded when I mused about changing to our flatter sail). Call it laziness or denial; in hindsight I’m sure I would’ve made the change if I’d had my usual pre-race discussion with one of our competitor-friends. Instead, we pushed off the dock with the wrong equipment.

Cooperative Competitiveness

In 2011, I wrote that “Wanting to win should encourage us to help our competitors improve; the better they are, the more they challenge us to sail our best.” (Read A Week of Variety in Books and Boats)  Since then, as a hungry-to-learn Snipe skipper, I’ve roamed the boat park each race morning, asking specific questions about sail and rig tuning choices.

Most folks shrug and tell me they’re going with what they used the day before. A few (and these are the people I really love sailing against and hanging out with) take the time and energy to work through their long list of Snipe speed considerations, digging deep into how they match their adjustments with the day’s expected conditions. Spreader length and angle, rake and rig tension, sail choices; our seemingly casual dialogue is the boat-speed equivalent of that other predictable race-day question, “what are you wearing today?”

These skippers (and yes, they are usually skippers) always have a plan that’s based on many years of Snipe experience, and they are perfectly wiling to share it with me—as well as anyone else who stops to listen. But they don’t get too locked in, either; on the water, they adapt well to any change of conditions.

Back onshore after racing, these same sailors are eager to explain what they learned, and how their results could’ve been improved—even if they won every single race that day. This is not as selfless as it sounds; talking through decisions will help them cement their own knowledge. (And even if the rest of us successfully absorb all their wisdom, tomorrow’s priorities will probably be different.)

Taking our habits for granted

On that particular Sunday morning, after three months of not thinking at all about Snipe sailing, a combination of recovering from an injury (not really avoidable) and missing my usual Saturday afternoon serving of Recoverite (totally avoidable) resulted in more fatigue than usual. (I also blame this for my failure, once again, to Listen to my Teammate.) For a variety of life reasons, my most trusted consultants weren’t sailing the regatta, so a morning boatpark discussion never happened. Choosing the wrong sail certainly wasn’t my only mistake of the weekend, but looking back it’s quite obvious that my usual race-day habits would’ve helped me avoid a key wardrobe malfunction.

It’s fun, too

Win or lose, those pre-race conversations are a huge part of why I enjoy Snipe regattas. There aren’t very many people in the world who care how much rig tension or what spreader length is ideal for any given race, and this shared passion bonds us together like nothing else. So I’m looking forward to our next regatta, hoping that even after a month away from sailing I’ll retain most of what I learned at that last one. And also vowing, once again, to listen well, to both my teammate and our competitor-friends.

Author Conversation #3: Barbara O’Neal

Confession time: when I first meet successful authors, I’m always a little bit leery. The more books they’ve published, the more I expect they will be either looking over my shoulder for someone more important to talk to, or simply too jaded to be pleasant. It is all too rare to enjoy both a person and the books they write.

So when I first sat down for breakfast during the Writer’s UnCon with Barbara O’Neal, knowing she had written forty books under various pen names, I wasn’t expecting such personable conversation. When I ordered her latest book, When We Believed in Mermaids, I certainly wasn’t expecting to enjoy it so much. Last but not least, I was surprised to discover how much this Colorado native is in love with the ocean—a fellow #coastalfiction author!

As soon as I finished devouring Mermaids, I reached out for an interview. I was definitely NOT surprised when she responded, promptly and warmly, with great answers to my questions. Here’s a taste of this rare ego-free success story, Barbara O’Neal.

1. In Mermaids, your female characters quite consciously need their water view. I think the ocean is a new theme for you. What inspired it for this book?

I don’t think I’ve written novels set around the ocean before, but my love for it began when I was quite young.  I was born and raised in the Rockies, but when I was seven, we moved to California for a brief period, and I fell madly in love with the ocean. We moved back, but I returned again and again to the coast of California, camping as a young woman, visiting as much as possible, and teaching whenever I could land a gig. For several years, I taught every spring at the Santa Barbara Writer’s Conference, in a hotel right on the beach. It was heaven.

And I’m a traveler. My travels have taken me to coasts and beaches around the world, from Florida to Mumbai, Canon Beach OR to Vancouver to Salem MA to England and, of course, New Zealand. I love everything about it–the light, the movement, the sounds. It always changes, minute to minute, and it feels like it speaks to me. Settles me. 

2. You grew up and still live in the Rockies. What similarity do you see between ocean and mountains?  

The ocean is immense and impossible to ever really understand, much like the Rockies. Mountains and oceans are both ancient and teeming with life and make my own life seem very small in comparison, which I like. It makes problems seem small, too.   

3. Can you give us your thoughts on genres: women’s fiction, romance, and of course my own personal favorite: #coastalfiction?

I think they’re all on a continuum.  Romance is the journey of people who are looking for a mate, and it often follows young women as they seek to create a stable world in which to raise offspring. Of course, it takes many forms and features people of all ages, but at the heart, it is about finding a happy sexual partnership.  Women’s fiction is about a woman finding her way through situations to her own inner truth, or at least that’s what I write.  Women’s fiction is often about satisfying work, and finding a place in the world, and learning what things make us happy and productive, and which things torture us.  It’s also often the story of a disaster or turning point in a life. How do you navigate tragedy and loss?  What qualities carry us through.  

As for #coastalfiction, I’m not as familiar with what the parameters are, but it seems it would be about humans interacting with the sea and how it influences their lives and choices, which is definitely the case with When We Believed in Mermaids. The three women in the book can’t sleep if they can’t hear the ocean. It unifies them, defines them. 

4. What are you working on now, and what excites you about it?

I’ve just wrapped up my next book for Lake Union, called The Lost Girls of Devon, about four generations of women in a small English coastal village. The ocean figures into this one, too, in several ways. I’m in love with the setting and the tangled relationships of mothers and daughters and how our choices frame us, but also the other people in our lives. It will be out July 14, 2021.

Thanks Barbara for being so approachable and for writing a book I really enjoyed! I can’t wait to read the next one (as well as dig into your backlist).

Got another favorite #coastalfiction author you’d like me to interview? Comment below or email me. Thanks for reading!

Life Lessons from Dave Perry

I’ve been learning lessons about racing sailboats from Dave Perry for thirty years, since first reading his legendary book Winning in One Designs. So I was pretty excited last fall when the editor of Seahorse Magazine asked me to write a profile of Dave, which appears in the February 2020 issue. We sat down at Yale Corinthian Yacht Club and talked for two hours, digging deep into how Dave came to be such a respected sailor, sportsman, teacher, and rules guru. Here are three of the many surprising lessons I learned that didn’t make it into the profile.

1. Nice guys don’t always finish last

Dave has at least three different perpetual sportsmanship trophies named after him, but he’s also won plenty of important championships. Playing by the rules works.

2. People remember a personal voice

Dave compiled Winning in One Designs from a series of columns he wrote for what is now Sailing World Magazine, based on questions that came up at racing seminars he taught around the country. “People say, Dave, your articles are almost like you’re sitting there talking to me—and that’s because I was.” The personal voice (combined with excellent, easily digested information) is why the book has remained in print since 1984. All most readers really want is to feel like they’re in a conversation with the author.

3. Planning is overrated

Though Dave admitted to a few significant sailing regrets, he says he’s “always sort of lived in the moment. I’ve never been one to say, well if I do this and this in five years, I’m going to be here. My attitude is I have no idea, but right now here’s what I want to do.” As long as you’re doing something “good and useful and productive,” he adds, it always seems to work out.

Seahorse has given me permission to reprint “Winning in Life” for you, but to read Ken Read’s piece “Don’t let the perfect be the enemy of the good” or to learn what Grant “Fuzz” Spanake is up to, you’ll need to subscribe. Before you go, leave a comment below or send me an email with your favorite Dave Perry story!

Read other stories I’ve written for Seahorse

Oliver Audiobooks: Get a Coupon

Surprise! Oliver’s Surprise and Cape Cod Surprise, that is: twelve years after the original Oliver first published, I’ve recorded audiobook versions. Yes, they are “read by the author” so if you don’t like the sound of my voice… well, then move along, there’s nothing to “see” here. (Hear here?)

If you haven’t yet tried audiobooks and would like a free sample, read on. And if you’re already an audiobook lover, here’s your first chance to win a copy of Ferry to Cooperation Island.

Why create audiobooks?

When asked by a fellow author for a single word to capture the goals of 2020, I skipped right past my first thought (“Ferry”) to the far more inclusive “audiobook.” It’s so refreshing to take a break from screens and soak up a new world through our ears—especially while our hands and feet are busy with other tasks. For those of us who grew up with bedtime stories, it’s also a throwback to one of the most comforting memories of childhood.

Last summer, while enjoying the audiobooks of other authors, it occurred to me that I could revisit the world of Oliver by producing an audio version. It was the perfect experiment to figure out the workflow—and a fantastic fresh challenge.

How to create an audiobook

The first step was to find a narrator. After listening to several samples, I couldn’t even decide whether a male or female would be best; neither seemed quite right for a not-yet-changed twelve year old’s voice.After listening to Unsheltered—and realizing only when the final credits rolled that author Barbara Kingsolver had narrated it—I decided to take on the challenge of narrating and editing Oliver’s Surprise myself. Thanks to Paul, I have access to a professional quality sound room, and I knew I could master the editing software everyone recommended (Adobe Audition). So I dove in and started recording. A few weeks later, I had a rather amateurish first version—and a few weeks after that, I’d cleaned it up into what I’m told is now a great listening experience. I hope you agree.

With a little more confidence and know-how, I then recorded and produced Cape Cod Surprise and published it just a few days ago. (It is still working its way out into the world, so this book may not yet be available on your favorite site.)

Where to buy audiobooks

Whether through your local library or by monthly subscription, there are countless sites that offer audiobooks (and more launching as I write). My personal favorite is libro.fm, because a portion of my subscription (and any additional purchases) support my local independent bookstore. There are many others, so hop on over to your favorite site (or your local library) and search for my name. If no audiobooks show up, please let me know.

Now, the good stuff

New to audiobooks? In honor of 2020, I’ll provide a free coupon for either book to the first 20 readers who email me a request before February 15, 2020.

Already reading with your ears? Then email me an answer to this 21st century question: where do you buy/borrow your audiobooks? and I’ll enter you into a drawing to win a copy of Ferry to Cooperation Island.

Thanks! I’m excited to share my stories with you.

Shirley Robertson Interview

Calling all sailors, or at least all sailors who enjoy podcasts: listen to Shirley! Shirley Robertson won the Yngling gold medal in 2004, and I caught up with her again at the Star Sailors League Finals in Nassau. We shared a very special #Yngling2004 reunion with a member of team Canada, as well as a fantastic ocean swim only hours before we both flew back to winter. It was great to really dig into what she’s doing now, sixteen years after spending so much time in the same boat parks, and to talk about our mutual passion for audio.

While I’ve been diving into audiobook production, Shirley’s developed a monthly podcast that features a well-known sailor. It’s more like a fireside chat at the pub than a formal interview, and as a respected competitor, she’s able to dig deeper than the usual journalist. My favorite to date is her discussion with Sam Davies, mostly because I had a front row seat for the embarrassing moment they laugh about… which took place shortly before Sam (now one of the most respected offshore singlehanded sailors in the world) announced that Miami’s Biscayne Bay was “too wet, and too cold” for her. Listen in for the real story… but first, read on to learn why Shirley developed the podcast, and where she hopes it will go.

What’s the best part of doing these monthly podcasts?

“I worked for 15 years in broadcast journalism, where you are so time aware, every word is precious and considered, and all the components fit together like Lego,” Shirley says. “The clock is a constant, words are slashed here and there – much of the ‘good stuff’ never leaves the edit room. A podcast breathes, there is time for anecdotes; actually the best pods are full of stories no one has had time to tell. My favorite part is how relaxed they seem, how intimate, how fresh they feel.”

Favorite guest or story?

“There’ve been moments for sure. When Chris Draper starts to remember the Athens Olympics and gets really emotional, 15 years since he thought about it all. Kenny Read talking about sailing on Dennis Conner’s teams and just how crazy it all was. Kyle Langford describing what it was like inside the Oracle Shed in San Francisco when they were 8-1 down to the Kiwis. So many stories.”

How long does each take to produce?

“Once recorded they take a day in post; there’s usually just a few tweaks, or if there’s any sound glitches we try and remove them.”

How do you create such an intimate atmosphere?

“We use a pair of wireless mics rather than the usual podcast setups. My podcast producer can get REALLY techy about this but the mics themselves are very specific, they seem to create this very warm and intimate sound when I’m sitting with one other person in a quiet spot – and that ‘sitting between us’ intimate sound is what we were hoping to achieve. There’s a little bit of tinkering when it’s edited, but much of the sound is down to the mics we’ve chosen.”

What excites you most about 2020?

“We’ve started getting more adventurous with podcasts. Currently we’re making a series documentary, weaving story together – love it. Audio is a really exciting media and it feels like the world has noticed. From a sailing perspective, I’m looking forward to the America’s Cup getting going; I love the tech and the drama… and there’s always drama!

‘We’re also working hard to find an appropriate partner for the podcast. It would be great to continue developing the product for sailing fans, and we’ve got lots of ideas! It would also help us spread the word.”

What’s your favorite type of book?

“I love adventure books, crazy people doing crazy things. Currently I’m reading Billy Connelly’s new book (he’s a Scottish comedian), lying in bed laughing out loud. I grew up with his audio tapes on every car journey.”

Thanks to Shirley for becoming the interviewee for once. What else should I ask the next time I see her? Add your questions to the comments below, or send me an email. And for an equally personal peek into the lives of other legendary sailors, visit her website or search for Shirley Robertson’s Sailing Podcast on your favorite app.

Book Review: When We Believed in Mermaids

I first met Barbara O’Neal at the Writer’s Unconference last November, shortly after her latest novel came out. On Christmas Eve, while browsing at Island Books, I overheard someone asking for this book by both name and author. “We’re sold out, unfortunately,” the bookseller replied—a good news/bad news dilemma I hope to face someday.

When I finally got my hands on a copy, I discovered that this Colorado native has produced an excellent example of #coastalfiction! I’ll publish an interview with her in a few weeks, but for now here’s a quick review of her latest book.

Mermaids starts off with a gripping first sentence: “My sister has been dead for nearly fifteen years when I see her on the evening news.” The narrator, Kit, is an ER doc in Santa Cruz, up late after another stressful shift; this added shock sends her right to her favorite recovery spot, a nearby surfing beach. Instead of recounting what she drives by along the way, Kit instead takes us back in time to replay a few key memories about her family. So by the time we meet her mother for a post-surf breakfast, we understand the coolness of their relationship. We also understand (and sympathize with) her mother’s reaction when Kit asks, at the close of the first chapter, “What if she’s really alive?”

The mom replies: “I guess I’m going to have to kill her.”

Page-turner

This of course demands that we turn the page to find out what happens next. But just when we’re feeling intrigued but grounded in Kit’s world, the second chapter drops us into Auckland and a totally different first-person point of view. O’Neal trusts her reader to figure out that this new narrator must be the mysterious “dead” sister—who’s very much alive to her lovely husband and the historic hillside house he’s just bought for her, as a surprise.

Twelve pages in, I was already absolutely certain that these two sisters would meet and reconcile. What I didn’t yet know is what drove them apart in the first place—so I kept reading, partly to understand their scars, and partly because I just enjoyed spending time with each of them.

#coastalfiction

We are all advised to “write what you know,” but this mountain-based author has captured a world that fits right into the #coastalfiction genre. We feel in our bones the sisters’ joy of wave-riding, and see the mesmerizing changes in both ocean and sky as a storm approaches. Neither narrator can sleep away from the ocean, and even their mother requires a water view to feel safe.

O’Neal describes Auckland in a way that makes me want to go back there again, showing us both harbor ferry rides and the late-night bar scene. My only distraction was the constant use of “CBD,” which I kept reading as the cure-all derivative of hemp oil; thanks to Wikipedia, I now understand it is Auckland’s “Central Business District.”

Promises kept

While none of the characters is too perfect, the rosy expectations set by the back cover text (and cover’s beach scene) are definitely met by a happy (if somewhat predictable) ending. And, unlike many recent novels from multiple-book authors (perhaps accustomed to more rigorous editing from their publisher), the middle reads as smoothly as the opening chapter.

O’Neal has created characters who, while flawed, remind us of how to be good partners and siblings: listen well, and be prepared to change and forgive. She also points out the subtle ways we recognize people we haven’t seen for a long time: a distinctive walking style, seen across a street, can take us right back to childhood.

When We Believed in Mermaids is recommended for anyone who enjoys a deep dive into how memories continue to haunt and shape us. I’m looking forward to diving into O’Neal’s impressive list of previously published books, but first: have you read a novel recently that could be classified as #coastalfiction? Comment below, or send me an email. I read every (human) remark, so thanks for taking the time to share your thoughts.

What is #coastalfiction?

When I visit any bookstore, I naturally gravitate toward the shelves marked “fiction.” I usually walk right past the already familiar bestsellers, looking for stories that can drop me into a new world. If I’m away from home, I look for a “local fiction” section.

No matter where I am, though, my eye is always caught by any sort of nautical motif. It doesn’t have to be as obvious as lighthouses, schooners, or mermaids/mermen; even a rocky beach or coastal family cottage will draw me right in. And after so many years of struggling to define the type of books I most enjoy, I’ve created a label to describe them: #coastalfiction.

For me, #coastalfiction requires a seaside location—though it could be on or near any sea in the world. Even fresh water shorelines make the cut, though the only example I can think of is Swallows and Amazons.

In #coastalfiction, the setting is almost a character itself. The story should not be so generic that it could happen anywhere—though, in the strangely contradictory world of our imaginations, its details should also strike a familiar chord, even for those who’ve never been to a particular location.

Examples of #coastalfiction

Here are some novels that fit into this genre (linked to the review, if I’ve written one). If you have a favorite that should be on the list, drop me an email. Thanks for reading!

When We Believed in Mermaids

The Islanders

The End of the Point

Where the Crawdads Sing

Swallows and Amazons (Arthur Ransome)

Suspicion

Everyone Brave Is Forgiven

Still Water Bending

The Fulcrum Files

Escaping to the Sea

The Sea and the Silence

The Swimming Pool

Want more? Read What Books do I Like?

2020 Vision: Think Like a B-Teamer

In a recent issue of Seahorse Magazine, I found myself both surprised and inspired (once again) by super-coach Rod Davis’ column. “Doing No Wrong” starts off by talking about those incredible regattas where everything falls into place, a syndrome he calls the Midas Touch. It ends by recommending that we all think like B-teamers. Huh?

Rod Davis finished 9th at the 2019 OK Dinghy Worlds and was the top Master. Photo courtesy Robert Deaves

I don’t know about you, but for me the term “B-teamers” has always had a negative connotation. Who wants to be thought of as second-string, not the best, warming the bench while the biggest games are played? 

Rod’s point is that B-teamers just go out every day and do their best. “When you stop thinking about winning,” he writes, “and start thinking about how you sail the best you can, and how you sail even better next time, you start thinking like a B-teamer…They always look forward, and enjoy the racing more.”

2020 Vision

I might not have taken these words as inspiration for today’s blog post if we weren’t just dipping our toes into a new decade. Over the holidays, I thought a lot about resolutions in both writing and sailing. 2020, no matter how you frame it, is gonna be a big year for me. On the writing side, I’ve taken on two new clients and will finally get to share my next novel with all of you (June 16, thanks for asking). On the sailing side, we have two international Snipe championships and several national/local regattas on the schedule. Then there’s the numerical and symmetrical loveliness of “2020,” a year that surely deserves special attention to focus. So even though I don’t usually pay much attention to such things, it seemed like this most recent calendar-flip deserved a resolution.

But I also don’t want to make promises I can’t keep, and I hadn’t found anything both big enough to be worthy and personal enough to seem achievable—until I read Rod’s piece. “Think Like a B Teamer” is not a new idea for me; it’s just a new way to state an approach that has already helped me meet each of my toughest challenges. I learned it just in time to win an Olympic Trials, and a few years later applied it to writing and publishing three books—though “winning” as a writer is much easier to self-define. For this entire century, focusing on what I can control has enabled me to embrace the challenges of a free-range, freelance life; keeping a writing and editing business going, learning new skills, staying fit even as age and laziness try to take over. 

New name, old idea

It’s all too easy to focus on the end result (the book, the invoice, the podium), but that’s where we get stuck—because there are way too many factors that will determine if we get there, and most are outside of our control. All we can do is just try to get a little better each and every day. If I make this sentence the best it can possibly be, that might just spark a whole new idea (or gain me a whole new client). If I make this tack a little better than the last one, that will help us pass one more boat.

This is not a new idea for Rod, either; in 2013, I wrote a post about another Seahorse column of his:

By taking his own advice, “Play for the now,” Rod could be clear about the plan long before he knew the outcome. He also includes some great advice on how to deal with big event stress. Here’s my favorite quote: “Don’t try to step up a level for the big one. Do just what we have been doing and what got you to where you are.”

America’s Cup: Rod’s Wisdom

It just works

Constant, incremental improvements aren’t particularly glitzy, and they are also hard to see as forward progress except once they pile up, in hindsight—but I know from experience that this approach is the best one, across all aspects of my crazy life. So thanks, Rod, for teaching me a new name for an old friend.

And here’s my resolution: In 2020, I’m going to think like a B-teamer!

Learn more about Seahorse Magazine

Did you make a New Year’s resolution this year, or do you think the whole idea is a waste of time? Share your thoughts in the comments below, or send me an email . Thanks for reading, and onward into a new decade!