A Little Control
Whenever I teach Fearless Writing, one of the students will invariably say their biggest challenge is that they have too many stories they want to write. Which one do they tell? They feel somewhat paralyzed by this choice, worrying that they might choose the wrong story, or that they might begin one and then soon want to start another. While this may seem like a like a good problem to have, paralysis is paralysis, regardless of the cause. If you want to write and you’re not writing, your problem is no more desirable than anyone else’s.
My answer to these students is twofold. First, I ask if they were only allowed to tell one, which would it be. Sometimes they have their answer right away. In this case, they were only trying to figure out the market, figure out what other people would like, while secretly knowing what they want. We all may be a little guilty of this from time to time. Regardless of whether they can answer this or not, I tell them that ultimately it doesn’t matter which story they choose, they’ll end up telling some version of the same story. After all, we don’t really choose our stories; they always choose us.
That we, the authors, don’t actually know what our stories are when we start them, that we don’t really know what they’re about or where they’re going, can be one of the hardest truths for new, and sometimes not-so-new writers, to accept. Where is our control? I have asked myself this very question throughout my life, hoping in understanding it I would secure some level of enduring safety and confidence. Yet as a creative person, my greatest satisfaction and pleasure and excitement has always come from surprise and discovery. Were I in complete control, I would never experience creativity’s greatest gift.
What I can control is whether or not I worry that my stuff isn’t good enough, whether I think my job is to please someone else, whether I believe I have to write to some market, whether I criticize myself every time my story wanders down a dead end, whether I think someone else could do a better job telling my story. Clear away all that trash and I make room for the story that wants to be told. It may not seem like much control, but when it’s cleared away I always feel better, always feel calm, always feel a little curious, which is exactly the state of mind in which the seed of a story wants to be planted.
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