If writing this regular column has taught my anything it’s the power of consistency. And by consistency I don’t merely mean showing up at the desk every day, though that is certainly important. Without this physical consistency, writing anything is impossible. You must write to write. But below this level of consistency is what this column has taught me, which is the consistency of thought. These essays and stories may end after about 350 words, but in truth they continue from day to day. This is because I feel as though there is only one thought I am pursuing here, a thought which, the further into it I go, only reveals a broader expanse to be explored, a horizon that expands with nearly the same rate as that with which numbers increase when multiplied by themselves.
So be consistent. The thought you are pursuing in your work, whether it is through stories of love and treachery, or poems about coffee spoons, or picture books about guinea pigs, requires consistent attention. You have found a thought you value, but this thought is in competition with all the valueless thoughts we focus on through our days – thoughts of survival, and drudgery, and lack, and envy, and wretchedness.
So be consistent in your focus upon what you know is of value. You understand the value of this thought in a way no one else can. So be consistent in your attention to it; the thought is larger and even more valuable than you first understood. Be consistent in your willingness to follow it; the thought will lead you where you cannot now imagine. Let consistency replace proof, let consistency replace success, let consistency replace goals. With consistency you understand that the only known quantity is more, which is the only goal, the only volume, the only measure love has ever expressed.
"A book to keep nearby whenever your writer's spirit needs feeding." Deb Caletti.
You can find Bill at: williamkenower.com