Understanding What I Know

For the last few years I’ve worked as a writing coach. A coach, as I explain to all my prospective clients, is not an editor. I am not interested in fixing anyone’s book, but rather in helping them strengthen their writing and, most importantly, their relationship to writing, which is really a relationship to themselves. It’s interesting and challenging work for which I have absolutely no professional training other than having written for many years. This, coupled with an inherent interest in people’s lives and personal struggles, seems to be enough.

But it took me a while to understand what a writing coach was. As with the stories I tell, I was interested in the idea before I understood the reality. I’ve never let a total lack of experience stop from me doing anything. I hung a virtual shingle on my website, and eventually someone contacted me about coaching. She wanted to know what it was I did. I said, “Let’s meet and discuss it.”

This gave me some time to see whether I could come up with an answer. I couldn’t. We met anyway, and I started talking about writing and its challenges and she listened politely. “What is it you write about?” she asked, once I ran out of things to say.

“I write about writing, mostly.”

She rolled her eyes. “Boring.”

She did not end up being my first client. She was very helpful, however. First, she taught me that I needed to figure out what a writing coach was. More importantly, she taught me that writing about writing is not boring – at least not for me. The instant she said, “Boring,” I thought, “No, it’s not,” and then, as writers often do, I thought, “Why isn’t it boring?”

I always know something before I know how or why I know it. That’s why I write and why I coach and, really, why I do anything – to understand what I know. I don’t write about writing, you see; I write about life. To me, writing is just an experience I choose to have while I’m alive. It’s the being alive part that’s really interesting to me – endlessly interesting. Anytime I do something on purpose, whether it’s writing, or coaching, or cooking, I’m living on purpose, and I immediately understand something that seemed mysterious when I lived accidentally or habitually.

What a glorious understanding that is. Glorious, that is, until I forget it, and I find myself back on the hamster wheel of getting things done, and wondering what to do next and why exactly I’m on this planet. I could have sworn I just knew why I was on this planet. How frustrating to forget, how satisfying to remember, and how endlessly interesting this cycle remains.

If you like the ideas and perspectives expressed here, feel free to contact me about individual and group coaching.

 

Fearless Writing: How to Create Boldly and Write With Confidence.
You can find William at: williamkenower.com

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Giving Up

If I am working with a client who has never attempted a book-length project before, one of the first challenges I must help this new writer overcome is the sudden and daunting awareness of how little she actually knows about this book she would like very much like to write through to its conclusion. The writer rarely sets out on her journey with this awareness. Instead, she is just excited by some idea that has become so bright in her imagination that she cannot seem to pull her attention from it.

And so one day she decides to sit down and actually begin writing the thing. The idea has been so bright and so interesting to her that it feels as though all she needs to do is set aside a little time everyday and the story should virtually write itself. Then she begins. Sometimes it takes no more than a couple pages for the writer to understand that this story is made of around 60,000 details called words, and that she must in fact choose each of those details, and that those details must fit together as effortlessly as the pieces of a jigsaw puzzle.

This is often a disorienting moment. The writer’s interest in the story was complete. What’s more, the feeling the story is trying to convey is complete as well. If the author is writing a story about the difference between feeling unlovable and finding love, then that profound difference is complete within her mind. But the story that is meant to share that feeling, which is made of tens of thousands of details, is so incomplete that the writer doubts if she ever knew anything.

I can sometimes be of help to these writers simply by reminding them what it is their job to know and what it is not their job to know. It is not our job to know the details. It is only our job to know we would like to find them. It is a sometimes subtle difference, but what we call failure is usually the mistaken belief that our inability to know all the pieces ahead of time means we are incomplete.

How tempting it is in the moment of this mistaken awareness to give up. The feeling of personal incompleteness is in direct opposition to the direction of life and is commensurately wretched in its expression. It is appropriate to want to give up something at this moment, but it’s not the story. Give up believing you can finish what is already whole, or fix what was never broken, and return to the business of finding what you are actually looking for.

If you like the ideas and perspectives expressed here, feel free to contact me about individual and group coaching.

 

Fearless Writing: How to Create Boldly and Write With Confidence.
You can find William at: williamkenower.com

Follow wdbk on Twitter

Discovering Stories

Every writer is a teacher of some kind, though most do not see themselves that way. Most writers see themselves as entertainers – meaning it is not their job to instruct their readers, but rather to engage them, amuse them, frighten them, or inspire them. To do so, writer and reader go on a journey together, and though the writer may be the guide for this journey, may have mapped its route and chosen its destination, the discoveries the reader makes along the way belong entirely to him. If a reader says he loves a story, it is those discoveries he loves, discoveries he may attribute to the writer, but for which he is ultimately responsible.

Yet that journey begins where only the writer can perceive it. Its value and potential are known only to the writer. The writer has made a discovery, you see. The writer has discovered a new love story, or a new adventure, or a new poem. The writer made this discovery in the idle dreaming of his days – picked up a magazine, or looked out the window, or overheard a conversation; and where one moment the writer was looking at the world, the next he was seeing the beginning of a story. A seed has found its soil.

A writer may experience the full pleasure of discovery before putting a single word to a page. As satisfying as this can be, the writer must be willing to transform his discovery to share it. The story must take a form everyone can see, so that everyone can have can have the opportunity to perceive its value. Sometimes it feels as if something is lost in this transformation, that the form our story takes is a pale shade of the rich discovery we made.

This is a trick of our eyes. That story began where even our eyes could not see it. Teachers help their students see what they have not yet seen, whether it is a mathematical formula, or a mother’s and daughter’s reconciliation. It is always a little mysterious why some students easily see what others do not, but what we writers discover is mysterious as well. The best discoveries always feel as if they were right in front of us our whole lives. How, we wonder, could we not have seen them? It does not matter. Life, everyone’s first teacher, showed us, and now can’t stop looking at it until it is a story everyone can see.

If you like the ideas and perspectives expressed here, feel free to contact me about individual and group coaching.

 

Fearless Writing: How to Create Boldly and Write With Confidence.
You can find William at: williamkenower.com

Follow wdbk on Twitter

A Good Relationship

Writing got much easier for me when I began to see it as a relationship rather than something I alone was doing. To write, I asked questions, and then listened for an answer. If I perceived myself – the one who asked the question – as also responsible for the answer, one never came. So though I was physically alone whenever I wrote, the experience was of communication with something else. Though this contradicted certain concepts of reality I had been taught to believe, it was the only practical approach to doing the thing I loved to do.

But this relationship became troubled and argumentative as soon as I began worrying about other people, the ones with whom I would like to share my work. Publishing is a relationship also. I start a story and readers finish it in their imaginations. The inherent truth of all relationships is equality, and this is true of the writer-reader relationship. My reader’s interpretation of my stories is every bit as valid and important as mine. But those interpretations are none of my business.

The moment I think they are my business, the moment I begin worrying about what people will think of what I’ve written, I become lost in a desperate and endless search for approval. I have gone on that search many times, only to find myself in some bitter country of constant argument. You can either look for your story or for people’s approval – not both. The moment I return to the story and begin listening to whatever answers all my questions, I am traveling in the only direction I have ever wanted to travel.

I have learned that this rule is applicable to all relationships. Every argument I have begun with people I love stemmed from my belief that I knew what another person was thinking, or that I had to somehow guess what they were thinking. I mistook this illusory mind-melding for intimacy. Just as when I am writing, to be in good relation to another person, I must forget about what I think they’re thinking and simply speak the truth as best I can. The only way I know how to speak the truth is by listening to that same voice that answers my questions when I write.

Every argument of which I have ever been a part ended the moment I chose to be completely honest. Or, I should say, the argument ended in me, which is all I’ve ever wanted. I am still a little amazed that to feel close to someone else, I must return to what I trust most completely in myself. It seems a little contradictory, but I believe what I listen to when I write speaks to everyone. In this way, it is the true source of all our intimacy, and the more closely we listen to it, the better we know others and ourselves.

If you like the ideas and perspectives expressed here, feel free to contact me about individual and group coaching.

 

Fearless Writing: How to Create Boldly and Write With Confidence.
You can find William at: williamkenower.com

Follow wdbk on Twitter

A Friendly World

My son, whom my wife and I have homeschooled for the last five years, turned eighteen this winter and now talks frequently about how worried he is about his future. We – my wife, my son, and I – would all have preferred it if he could have graduated from public high school this spring. The known, after all, is always less unsettling than the unknown. But that was not our path. It became clear that he could no more have stayed in traditional schools than I could enjoy the life of a door-to-door salesman. So here we are.

Fortunately, I’m a writer who dropped out of college, which means I too have taken a somewhat less traditional path. I have had to make peace with the uncertainty of writing so that I could enjoy the freedom it affords me. This is not always so easy. There are times I envy my friends with careers that bring them into an office every day and for which they receive a weekly paycheck. I don’t envy them for long, however. I can’t pretend I could live any life other than the one I am living now. So here I am.

The biggest obstacle my son faces, however, has less to do with having been homeschooled than with his belief that the world is an unfriendly place. It is an odd perception, since for years I have watched the world of strangers treat him with staggering kindness. No matter. His experiences in school, where he was asked, for perfectly understandable reasons, to do things he wasn’t interested in doing, left him with the idea that to grow up and get a job and live an adult life would be school ten-fold – endless days of doing what he has to rather than doing what he wants to. As is always the case with these nightmare ideas, it is other people who will require him to live this life he doesn’t want to lead.

And so, as our academic schooling winds down, I have come to understand that my job as his father is to help him see the world as the friendly place it has always been. It is a good lesson for a writer to learn again and again. I cannot write for an unfriendly world of strangers whose reading desires I must somehow guess correctly in the privacy of my workroom. All I can know for sure are my creative desires, the guidance of my imagination and curiosity, whom I have followed faithfully now for these many years. How certain the future becomes the moment I remember that this is all I have ever needed to know.

If you like the ideas and perspectives expressed here, feel free to contact me about individual and group coaching.

 

Fearless Writing: How to Create Boldly and Write With Confidence.
You can find William at: williamkenower.com

Follow wdbk on Twitter

Never Despair

I have to come think of my confidence as a kind of inner balance. It is natural, always available, but, just like my physical balance, requires my deliberate attention to maintain. It is easy to maintain my balance on a smooth and level surface, but it is more challenging, and requires greater attention, on a balance beam or a tightrope. So too my confidence: it is rather easy to maintain that inner balance doing something I love and surrounded by people I love, but it requires greater attention when the news is troubling or the rejection letters come.

If you’ve ever had a good day of writing, you’ve found this inherent confidence. You simply cannot have a happy, creative day of work if you have completely lost your balance. Writing that is alive and natural, that surprises and excites you, is a living, active expression of your confidence. That’s what your confidence sounds like. It will sound both new and familiar. It’s you, after all, but if you are like me, you spend a lot of time wobbling around the world, speaking in a voice not quite yours.

Life’s a bit of a balance beam. We prefer it that way, I think. We are never so alive as when we are giving life our full attention. But we will wobble. We will feel the pull of discontent as our attention strays to the unwritten future, to other people’s opinions, to judgment. Discontent, like the experience of imbalance, is only there to alert us that our attention has strayed. It is not punishment or proof of our inadequacy or life’s inadequacy. It is guidance back to ourselves.

Which is why I must remind myself daily to never despair. It is one thing to recognize discontent; it is another thing to pursue it. The gymnast never pursues imbalance; she adjusts. I have pursued discontent with savage determination. I have pursued it in the hope of destroying it, of wiping it from the earth. Noble of me, I know, but I always fail to eliminate what never existed. Our discontent is not a villain, it is not a problem, it is not a threat – it is the language of life, calling to us in a voice we all can hear.

If you like the ideas and perspectives expressed here, feel free to contact me about individual and group coaching.

 

Fearless Writing: How to Create Boldly and Write With Confidence.
You can find William at: williamkenower.com

Follow wdbk on Twitter

A Balanced Life

I love to celebrate happy events. I love celebrating when my favorite teams win a game, or when a friend comes to visit, or even when the news I watch and read is what I call good and not I call worrisome. And, of course, I love celebrating the sort of events all writers celebrate – the acceptance letter, the contract, the praise from my editor. I have a book coming out in about a month (Fearless Writing), and I’ll certainly be celebrating its release.

It can get a little addictive, all this celebrating. It feels so good to be happy, and sharing that happiness with other people; and it feels so awful to worry, and complain, and correct, and fix. How easy it is to let life become a seesaw between celebration and despair, as if all our days are merely sporting events we witness, whose outcomes, over which we have no control, determine our well-being.

Writing is such a calming antidote to this addiction. Every morning I bless the utterly uneventful blank page. There is nothing to celebrate or mourn on that page, just the question of what I would like to see there. The answer to that question resides in a realm where, I have come to understand, nothing ever happens by our definition of that word. It is a kingdom forever in balance, and it is my goal every morning to write something that is a true reflection of the balance I always find there.

And when I feel I have succeeded in that, even if only for a sentence, I celebrate a little. It is so nice when the outside and the inside align. That is balance. I can’t celebrate for long, however, as I’m usually already onto the next sentence. To fully maintain my balance, I have to keep moving, I have to keep growing, for every question answered on the outside sparks another question on the inside. To live is to learn to love the question as much as the answer; to understand that finding balance is as satisfying as having it.

If you like the ideas and perspectives expressed here, feel free to contact me about individual and group coaching.

 

Fearless Writing: How to Create Boldly and Write With Confidence.
You can find William at: williamkenower.com

Follow wdbk on Twitter

Cooperative Nature

If I had never published a single word, the experience of choosing word after word and sentence after sentence would remain invaluable to me. To find a way forward with no path other than my awareness of the difference between effort and effortlessness, between the swift current of my inherent curiosity and the urgent paddling of my ego, remains an irreplaceable practice in how to live.

But I do not think I would have spent so much time finding word after word and sentence after sentence if it weren’t for the goal of someday publishing some of these words and sentences. If I weren’t interested even slightly in publishing what I’d written, I believe I would have found something else to do that I wanted to share with other people. As private as writing may be, as intimate as my relationship to my imagination will forever remain, I do not really understand the creative process without at least the concept of other people enjoying what I enjoy.

Not the money, mind you, nor the attention, nor the approval – just other people’s pleasure in what pleases me. I cannot extricate the creative process from this awareness any more than I can live my day-to-day life without other people’s cooperation, without other people stopping at stop lights, and stocking shelves in grocery stores, and writing books for me to read. Life is cooperative – it cooperates in sun, rain, soil, and flowers, and in writers, agents, publishers, and readers.

There is a reason solitary confinement is our most severe punishment besides execution. It is our attempt to deprive the flower of sun and rain. But even in this environment, the soil of consciousness remains. You can try to confine yourself in a silent cell, safe from winds of other people’s pleasure, but you cannot keep yourself from growing. You will either suffer in your resistance, or flourish in your cooperation – either way, you will grow and grow, from word to word and sentence to sentence.

If you like the ideas and perspectives expressed here, feel free to contact me about individual and group coaching.

 

Fearless Writing: How to Create Boldly and Write With Confidence.
You can find William at: williamkenower.com

Follow wdbk on Twitter

Finding Stillness

If you’ve ever had a very good day of writing, a day where you found your story or poem or essay quickly, where you discovered something unexpected and exciting early on and spent the rest of your session pursuing it, because suddenly and quite completely, nothing else seemed as interesting and important – if you’ve ever had a day of writing like this, then you are familiar with the experience of being carried by a momentum for which you are not wholly responsible but of which you are wholly a part.

It is as a good feeling as you’ll ever know. You are both entirely free and entirely focused. Gone for the moment are thoughts of your value or mortality; now there is only this very interesting thing and your pursuit of it. It is such a good feeling, and can feel like such a relief, that it is easy to develop a drug-like relationship to it.

I have certainly made that mistake. I became so fixated on the momentum I forgot its source. I believed momentum alone was the answer to the question, “How shall I fill my days?” When I am caught in the momentum of a story I am telling, time disappears; when I am staring down a day with nothing interesting in my sights, time becomes a burden. Give me some momentum, I think. Give me anything – an argument, a game, a movie – anything to get me moving again.

In my desperation to feel better, I forgot that all momentum begins in stillness. It is in stillness that I find the seed of an idea worthy of my full attention. It is in stillness that I find again the balance necessary to move at full speed. It is for this reason that writing remains my greatest practice. To sit quietly in a chair, looking at a blank page, and find that life-giving creative momentum is to be reminded again and again of what is always available for me if I look in the right place.

If you like the ideas and perspectives expressed here, feel free to contact me about individual and group coaching.

 

Fearless Writing: How to Create Boldly and Write With Confidence.
You can find William at: williamkenower.com

Follow wdbk on Twitter

Fearless Marketing

I have a book coming out in a month (Fearless Writing, May 12, Writer’s Digest Books), and in preparation I’ve been doing a bit of marketing. I’ve been guest blogging on Writer’s Digest’s website, I’ve been talking about the book on my Author2Author podcast, I’ve updated my website, I’m running a Fearless Writing Workshop, I’ve been arranging bookstore appearances and interviews, I’ve tweeted about it, posted on Facebook about it, and generally mentioned it whenever I could.

This, I’m told, is what a writer is supposed to do. This is how you’re supposed to drive preorders and prepare the reading public for the event that is the publication your new book. I certainly want people to know my book exists, and I would love as many people as possible to preorder it – but that’s not actually why I do all this stuff. I do it because I loved writing the book. I loved where I had to go to within myself to write it. I loved thinking about fearlessness and unconditional love and our inherent creativity. To write the book, I had to dive deeply into all of this, and I loved it.

But I’m done writing it. I can still think about what it means to write fearlessly, and I do, but there is nothing like focusing on something with the intention sharing it with other people to deepen my understanding of it. Which is why I keep looking for ways to “market” it. What is called marketing, for me, is just another excuse to focus on this idea I value, so that other people might share in its value.

I have absolutely no idea what the results of all my marketing will be sales-wise. Commerce remains a mysterious engine to me. No one can make anyone buy anything. Fortunately, the true payoff is immediate: I’m focused on what interests me most. That’s really all I ever want. Yes, I want to make money and keep a roof over my head and all that, but really I just want to focus on what Interests me. This is what makes me happy, and when I’m happy it doesn’t matter if I’m writing or marketing or teaching or just sitting and thinking – when I’m happy I know I’m doing what I’m supposed to do.

If you like the ideas and perspectives expressed here, feel free to contact me about individual and group coaching.

 

Fearless Writing: How to Create Boldly and Write With Confidence.
You can find William at: williamkenower.com

Follow wdbk on Twitter