My husband has been enjoying a series in the Daily Herald featuring different figures from the automobile industry. Surprisingly enough, it’s actually been fascinating to me, too—even though I’m someone who doesn’t care about what kind of car I’m driving just so long as it gets me there.
The stories have contained a bit of history, which is always a good start for me. They also include a behind-the-scenes look at ordinary people who have done extraordinary things. This week’s article was about Robert Bosch. Now why in the world would this fiction writer want to talk about the inventor of something as unromantic as a spark plug? Well, it’s an indirect path, but one that seems oh so clear to me…
The article named Bosch as the owner, dreamer and believer of his idea to make a car ignition system work safely and more successfully. That caught my attention, recognizing similar feelings about my writing: I’m the owner, dreamer and believer of each one of my story ideas. Well, let me clarify that: I’m the dreamer and believer but owner only until selling the idea to my publisher, who then becomes the owner, but I digress…
Bosch took an indirect path to becoming a successful inventor. When he was young, he knew if he wanted to become a precision mechanic he would have to work wherever he could learn the most. That meant striking out far from his small hometown, leaving behind his parents and twelve (!) siblings. Before he was twenty-four years old, he went to Cologne, to Stuttgart, even to America for a while in search of learning all he could about precision mechanics. For writers, it might not mean leaving home (or maybe it does, at least for a while) but even if we stay put we, too, must go to those places we can reach to learn the most—to critique groups, conferences, retreats, etc..
Early on, Bosch had to shed his fear. He worked on the technical areas that were the hardest for him. That reminded me while I may have more fun concentrating on those areas that are easiest, I need to give more attention and energy to those things that are a greater challenge. I shouldn’t just reinforce my best areas, but be humble enough and willing to learn something new. And don’t let fear of not being good at something keep me from sharpening the weak areas of my talent.
Bosch also networked; for a while he worked with Thomas Edison. Can you imagine all he must have learned working in that lab? It reminded me to take advantage of any opportunities I have to learn from other experts in my field.
Bosch certainly put in hard work, tireless energy, and focused commitment to making the automobile engine work efficiently. His path was not straight, it wasn’t even easy, but it led him to unimaginable success—so much that he was able to create huge philanthropic organizations and repay the world for some of the success it had afforded him. And so I can learn something from that, too, about giving back after achieving my own measure of success.
Now who ever thought a fiction writer couldn’t learn something from the inventor of the spark plug?
My thanks to Steven Reive of Wheelbase Media for such an inspiring article about Robert Bosch!
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