I still remember a night almost fifty years ago when I first visited my soon to be father-in-law. He was an avid pool player and considered himself an expert at the game.

I'd played the game myself. Maybe a half dozen times at most.

He racked up the balls. Then within seconds, the triangle of balls were spread evenly around the table.

I stepped up. Beginner's luck. I beat him at the first game.

My father put up a backboard with a hoop attached and then pumped up a basketball. He handed it to me, showed me where to stand, and I tossed it through the basket on the first try.

I joined a bowling league at work. I had never bowled. The first night I rented a pair of shoes and one of the experts showed me how to find a ball that would fit my hand. He then told me to take three steps and roll the ball down the alley. I got a strike.

The first horseshoe I ever threw was a ringer, the first time I saw my wife I knew I was going to marry her, and the first short story I wrote I sold to a magazine. Beginner's luck.

I believe in beginner's luck. Many writers believe in beginner's luck since approximately 80% of them, after they've sold their first book, never write a second one and, if they do, can't sell it.

Beginner's luck has been in my life to prove I can do it the first time and then flatten me when I try to do it again.

By the way, I think I'll go to the store next week and buy my first lottery ticket.