Mountain as Mentor

Guest post by Sunnye Collins.

Sunnye's been a part of our Tadpole community for years. After a friend encouraged her to consider writing contests, she went down a wormhole (as one does) and found our lit mag and Community Write-Ins. Bolstered by our welcoming vibe, she entered our 100-word contest in November 2024 and landed on the shortlist. She kept reading our lit mags and signing up for our write-ins. And she kept sharing her work in our contests, most recently earning 3rd place in April 2025.

Mountain as Mentor

I’m an active gal. Always have been. Since moving to South Africa from Boston in 2013, I’ve discovered many happy places here. One of them is a mountain. Any mountain really. I’m not persnickety. I just love a good mountain.

At the Southern tip of the African continent sits the Western Cape. And here in the small village of Greyton, we’re nestled in the sandstone embrace of the Riviersonderend Mountains, so there are lots of them to choose from.

There’s something about running up and down and around mountains that feels very ancient and elemental. I’ve heard some people refer to Nature as church. For me it feels like I’m in a lifelong mentorship program. Because I’ve been writing since I could form letters and rainbows on construction paper, the mountain is both mentor and muse. And though I’m still just an apprentice, I humbly share just a few nuggets this mentorship has taught me as it pertains to writing and putting it out in the world.

Lesson #1: Cross the River

As I exit my driveway, I take exactly 165 steps to get to the edge of the river (also a mentor and muse). Usually, I can get across the rocky riverbed without getting wet or tweaking an ankle, but crossing the river is different every time. Sometimes it’s a breeze, sometimes it’s tricky. But if I don’t cross, I don’t get to the mountain.

This lesson, though basic, is an important one. I can’t expect to share and publish my work if I don’t … share and publish my work. Entering the Tadpole Press 100-Word Writing Contest for the first time in 2023 was my first attempt at crossing the river of excuses and self-doubt. And since then, I’ve crossed the Tadpole river four times!

Lesson #2: Hug the Hills

Haruki Murukami wakes up at 4:00 in the morning to write. Judy Blume sees the first draft as “pure torture.” David Sedaris journals every day, no matter what. Anne Lamott likened the blank page to “an unassaulted ice floe.” If you ask trail runners how they feel about hills, most will look at you as if you just farted in a sauna. I often make the same face at the empty page.

I’m in the process of rewiring my brain around hills and blank pages. I’m not fighting them. I’m not dreading them. I’m leaning in. I’m hugging. I’m surrendering to, not retreating from them.

Lesson #3: Read After Burning

The mountains here are bedazzled in pyrophilous floral gowns stitched with thousands of fynbos species found nowhere else in the world. And just like Katniss Everdeen in Catching Fire, their frocks burn, reseed, and start anew.

Last December, the entire mountain burned for 5 days. Many can’t bear to walk in a recently burned place because it feels too wounding and raw. But I couldn’t stay away. I wanted to see the moon-scaped mountain, grey and stubbly. I wanted to read the new stories and discover a perspective I literally couldn’t see before. I was able to walk in previously inaccessible spots. I watched where the water gathered, where the birds recalibrated, where the seeds dispersed.

In my writing, I can get so stuck on how I think things should be. So when that happens, I imagine it burning right up off the page. I open another document or turn the page in my writing journal and start something new. And often, when I go back to an old stuck story, I’m able to see it in a completely different way and forge a new path.

Lesson #4: Get over Yourself

This remains one of the hardest skills for me to master. I’m a developmental editor and when I write, the compulsion to edit as I go is often crippling. It’s like trying to run on a freshly burned mountain trail and stopping to wipe off the ash I kick up with every step. If I did this on a run, it would take me all day to do my 5K loop.

In my writing life, I’ve been sitting on a book half written since 2020 because my writing self has not yet managed to get over my editing self. Additionally, I was honored to receive 3rd place in the April 2025 Tadpoler. My prize was a publishing package with Compassiviste. Have I submitted anything yet? No. Why? Because it isn’t perfect. I wonder if their award was a mistake. Self-sabotage, imposter syndrome, whatever you want to call it, I’ve got it. As Johanna Craven at Compassiviste reminded me, the feeling might never go away.

So what I often say to myself as an athlete is, "Be scared and do it anyway." So here I am, as a writer, being scared and doing it anyway … 100 words at a time … twice a year. Anyone else care to join?