Striking Oil

When I was writing my first novel, I found myself reflecting one day on what I liked best about sitting down every morning and finding my way through a story. I realized it wasn’t the characters I would finding, nor the interweaving storyline I called the plot, nor the imaginary world I was bringing to life. Instead, I saw in my mind an oil rig standing in an open plane. I knew absolutely nothing about oil rigs other than that they were designed to drill into the earth and free a valuable substance stored beneath its crust.

I had also heard that “oil men,” as they were called once upon a time, were gamblers of sorts. Because what they wanted existed where they could not see it, there was a certain amount of chance and exploration involved in their work. While they employed some science for this search, the oil men never knew for sure if they were drilling in the right spot until they hit “a gusher.” This was the jackpot, the moment they found exactly what they were looking for in abundance.

And this is what I pictured: a rig’s drill driving into the ground, into the invisible, the unknown, and then the happy release of something I wanted – actually, the only thing I wanted. This was the arrival of an inspired idea, yet it wasn’t even the idea itself I cared about, just its arrival. I had done it, had found again the connection to freedom, and to a friendly and inarguable truth. Or at least a truth with which I had no desire to argue, nor analyze, nor even understand. Life would get no better than this; that I knew as clearly as I knew anything.

At the time, it was unclear to me what I should do with this information. So much of writing seemed to be about learning the form your work should take and then all the gritty business of selling what you’d written once you called it done. What do you do if all you really care about is that glorious, private moment? I didn’t know, but in my heart I suspected that I was not alone, that all I cared about was all anyone cared about. I couldn’t prove this, or see it, or touch it, I could only learn to believe it, to find it the same way I found the end of a story.

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