Making a Friend of Life

Many of the clients I coach are grown people who have spent their lives working and raising children. They’re responsible people who are willing to work hard at something they care about. Most of them have enjoyed writing their entire life, whether it was filling journals at night before bed, or completing the draft of a novel or memoir. Usually for these people the challenge isn’t writing itself, though I do help with them with craft if they need it.

Usually, the real problem is the life of a writer – specifically, the conspicuous, relentless, unavoidable uncertainty. When I went to work as a waiter, there was plenty of uncertainty. I didn’t know how many customers I’d serve, or whether they’d be friendly or difficult, or how much money I’d make, or when I’d get home. But all of those unknowns didn’t concern me greatly. I knew where I was going every night, and I knew how to do my job, and I knew if I showed up, and stayed calm, every shift would end the same: the last customer paying their check, and me heading back to my car with a pocket full of cash.

Now, as a writer, the uncertainty begins as soon as I face the blank page. Every story I tell is a like a journey I take to discover its destination. If I truly knew the destination, I wouldn’t bother taking that journey. When the writing is done, the uncertainty continues. Will the next book sell, and if so, for how much? Will it do as well as the last one? Will I have the same editor, or will she move on? Those are the questions that follow me around my house now, but for my clients it’s usually the simple, ominous question of: How can I possibly know I can actually do this?

There is no way to answer this question other than to trust that if they show up every day, and pay attention, and stay calm, not only can they do it, they actually are doing it. They are doing what a writer must do to have a writing a career. They are doing it, even though it feels most days like they’re not doing anything at all, like they’re still just writing in their journal – which is largely true.

If writing has taught me anything, it’s that there is no real difference between what I’m doing now and what I did when I was thirteen, banging out the beginning of a novel on an old typewriter before school every morning. It’s just that when I was thirteen, I wasn’t worried about making a living. No matter. The work remains the same, and uncertainty remains not only my constant companion, but the source of all my inspiration. My job is to remember that not only do I not have to know what I’m going to write that day, but I don’t want to know. To do so is to make a friend of life as it’s actually lived, not how I think it should be.

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

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