Right and Wrong

One of the first lessons a writer must learn is that the story that is right for me might not be right for you. In fact, the story I most want to write might be that sort of tale that puts you straight to sleep, or aggravates you, or disgusts you. There are plenty I’ve come across that I put down or turn off one page or one minute in. No matter. We must go on writing our stories regardless of what anyone, even our loved ones and family, might think of them. Their preferences and tastes belong to them. Plus, they don’t even agree with each other. There’s just no pleasing everyone.

So, we forget about them for a bit, and go to work. As we do, we must choose the right scenes, the right characters, the right tempo and sentences and words. It’s not always clear what to choose. Sometimes we follow a path that seems compelling at the outset but only leads us to some empty wasteland, a dry place where our story withers and expires. How disappointing; how depressing; how scary. It seemed like the right way at the time. What if I can’t be trusted? What if I don’t really know? Why, if seen from a certain angle, any scene, sentence, or word could be right.

It's true. But the angle we want to see our stories from is the one that pleases us most. We must trust that if we pay attention, we can tell the difference between what is right and what is nearly right. And if we don’t know immediately, we learn soon enough and go back and try again. This is writing. It’s a never-ending journey to learn our right way, a journey that teaches us again and again to care deeply about the difference between right and wrong.

Then we stop writing, and get up from our desk, and return to the company of our friends and relations and even the strangers on the street and in stores. If I want to get along with these people, I have to give up most of my notions of right and wrong. It interferes with relationships. It’s like requiring everyone to like the same stories I do. It’s tricky, I admit, especially since I spend so much time specifically caring about what I find to be right. Nonetheless, I must forgo the sovereign authority of the page, and find instead agreement with others where I can. It’s not so hard if I can remember that everyone’s story matters as much as mine.

Check out Fearless Writing with Bill Kenower on YouTube or your favorite podcast app.

Everyone Has What It Takes: A Writer’s Guide to the End of Self-Doubt
You can find William at: williamkenower.com