Expected Surprises

I expect to be surprised when I write. In fact, I need to be surprised when I write. Until something comes along I hadn’t anticipated, that feels new and has the freshness and authenticity of discovery, I don’t really know what my story is about or where it’s supposed to go. I’ve learned this, you could say, the hard way, when I decided ahead of time, before I’d written a single word, what it’s about and where it’s going to go. It’s the grownup’s approach. Take charge and plot your course like a real boss. Hope isn’t a strategy, and chance is failure’s scapegoat.

I’m certainly a grownup. I’ve got the gray hairs to prove it. I’ve raised children, paid a mortgage, worked a job, mowed my lawn, gained and lost weight, watched too much news, wondered if I was wasting my time, argued with loved ones over nothing, worried about money, worried about the future, worried about the state of the world. I wouldn’t wholeheartedly recommend adulthood to anyone considering it if it weren’t for the alternatives. Avoidance comes with its perils, not least of which are boredom, depression, poverty, addiction, and the certainty that other people are wholly responsible for my suffering.

On some days my options seem to be between bad and worse. Those are my least favorite days. Fortunately, I start almost every morning writing, where, as I said, I expect to be surprised. That’s my plan and my strategy. There is, admittedly, some other stuff involved, what we call craft, which I have accumulated as my hair has turned gray. But without the surprise, without the inspired idea, my craft is useless. At best I’m telling an old story with a few new words. Those stories aren’t just dull, they’re dead, having already lived their life in full.

My favorite stories are the ones where I’m eager to find out what will happen next. I don’t know what’s coming, but I’m sure it will be good. I’m not that story’s boss, nor would I want to be. I want to go along for the ride. I have to choose to take it, of course, and then let it unfold, trust it and be glad for it and care about it. That’s love, I would say, where everything begins and ends, and all our worry and despair and argument are just the trouble we cause when we we’re certain that life and stories are more complicated than that. 

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