When The Fire Dies

My last two books have essentially been about what writers and creative people should not think if they want to be happy and productive. Fearless Writing was about how not to worry what people will think of your work, and Everyone Has What It Takes is about how not to wonder if you’re smart enough or talented enough or anything enough to do what you love to do. The books are simple at their core, as simple as putting down the cigarette you don’t want to smoke or the beer you don’t want to drink.

Of course, as anyone who has ever had to quit anything knows, simply not doing something isn’t that simple. We always do what we do for a reason, and that reason is always to make ourselves feel better no matter how bad a habit likely leaves us feeling in the end. I will never quit wanting to feel good, and, unlike the cigarettes I never have to smoke again, I will never stop thinking. And I don’t mean sitting down and pondering some philosophical concept or puzzling over a new idea for a book – I mean the ceaseless living experience of thoughts entering my consciousness. That never, ever stops. I am always thinking something, and a lot of what I’m thinking, frankly, is pretty useless to me.

I won’t list the old, recycled, repetitive thoughts I chew on throughout my day. I’ve used them, I believe, as a device to keep me out of trouble. That trouble starts when I think: What if? What if people don’t like it? What if no one buys it? What if I can’t sell the next one? Nothing good has ever come of me asking these questions. The thoughts that follow in answer are dark portraits of my unhappy future. I am quite literally imagining a life I don’t want to live, which is like sitting down to write a book I would never want to read.

Though there is sometimes one positive consequence that can come when I’ve taken myself on one of these miserable little trips. The heat of fear and despair consumes and turns to ash any old, dry thought I might seek to soothe my mind. I have to let the fire die on its own, which it always naturally does if I don’t feed it. I can’t put it out. All I can do is wait. By and by it smolders to nothing, and that’s when the creativity starts. Now I don’t want some tired, tried idea, and I don’t want some mean unanswerable question, I want a new interesting thought. Now I am thinking on purpose, wondering what I actually want, a question I can always answer if I would just take the time to ask it.

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

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