Fiction Is the Answer
Why do you write?
The first lesson of sales is delivered in bold and underlined: Do not ask a prospect why questions.
Even the most existential head scratchers avoid why. Rather than asking Why are we here? philosophers ask, What is the meaning of life?
Asking why is the fastest road to the dead-end, I don’t know. Asking why assumes a higher power, and if you want to make a sale, you have to be talking to the highest power—the decision-maker.
The Sales Misdirection
Billion-dollar companies train their sales employees to avoid asking why so when I found myself in conversation with a dynamic marketer, and publisher who’d accomplished nothing short of my own life goals and she told me to get clear on my why, I had the experience of being caught in an avalanche, tumbling down a mountain, disoriented about what direction was up.
My confusion was warranted because I was a salesperson staring at a marketer’s world, but the problem with sales is, you can never stop selling, if selling is your model, whereas, if marketing is you model, you’ll never have to sell again.
Saying Isn’t Knowing
Be forewarned, this reflection won’t end with a firm conclusion. Right now, I’m thinking through my own labyrinth, and inviting you to look in.
Simon Sinek wrote Start With Why. I first learned of—or took note of—Simon Sinek from Robin Sullivan, that dynamic marketer and publisher I just mentioned. She’s the operations, business, and distributions department as well as the wife of the author Michael J. Sullivan who wrote the Riyrea Chronicles and Riyrea Revelations among other books.
I didn’t know when I met Robin how fundamentally her story would change my own, how her why would impact me.
The Sneaky Challenge of “Why”
Today, I can’t tell you why I write, other than it feels good.
So does drinking coffee on a cool morning feel good, and walking the dog on a warm afternoon and savoring a square of dark chocolate as it slowly melts on my tongue.
But I’m not willing to sacrifice my comfort, wealth, reputation, my sleep, friendships, or time with my family for that dog walk, a cup of coffee, or a moment of chocolaty goodness.
Writing has wrapped itself around my DNA in such a way that I’ll risk my retirement fund, put my wife and sons in the path of poverty, and endure the criticism of my family to pursue success at it.
Writing has become so important to me that even on days when I hate the process, dread it, I do it anyway. I’d never drink a cup of coffee if I hated the taste.
So what makes writing special? Why sacrifice good experiences, safety, comfort for it? Is it a parasite that has overtaken my mind, feeding off me to my own detriment, a commensalist (a fancy science word for neutral), neither improving or harming me but refusing to leave me, or is it a mutualist?
Does my drive to write against all common sense leave me a better person, and as importantly, do I make the writing community a better place by being a writer? It’s not as if writing might ask the same questions about me. Is this guy a parasite or what?
Is This An Ego Trip?
Why do I need to write? Why am I writing this, knowing I’ll share it with the the several hundred people who have subscribed to my newsletter?
Until recently, I’ve been satisfied with the answer, “I write because I have stories to tell.” Inherent in that why seems to be the belief my stories are better than other people’s stories. After all, we only have so many hours in a day so people have to choose what to read and what to pass by.
If my stories aren’t better, shouldn’t I ceed to authors whose are? But maybe it’s less about being better and more about being additional. Perhaps there’s no ego after all.
Nonetheless, with some figures as high 2,700 new books being published daily and the average reader consuming >1 book per year, more is probably not the answer.
Maybe I am a parasite on the literary community.
Who? What? ____?
If why is so tough and leads so quickly to statistics I’d rather avoid, perhaps I can focus on who I need to be writing for. That seems like an easier question, but not only does Simon Sinek caution agains starting with who, diving deep into who gets just as dismal just as quickly.
For example, I might be tempted to say, “My books are for anyone who loves Stephen King, and Joe Hill, but the moment I cast the net that widely, I’m left with no more direction than had I skipped saying anything.
I could try the old demographic myth and say, “My books are meant for men aged 25 to 65 who read 10+ books per year and zzzz…zzz…zzzz…”
Right…Not only is such data objectively pointless because again I’ve just described several million men in English speaking countries but it’s boring enough to shred and spread on the bottom of a dog kennel.
Trying who can feel good because you can get some details written on paper, and it keeps you from asking the why question, which in why territory the whole house of cards feels a skosh wobbly, but who won’t really do much to get you closer to being read, so it becomes an excuse to ignore the painful but important work.
Maybe we can avoid asking why by asking what…
_____? What? Why?
In the world of sales, asking what is the go-to technique. What leads to actionable responses and open conversations. What do you write for? Seems a lot like Why do you write? But people fall silent before why and wax poetic for what.
You’ll even notice people, if they do open up for a why question, will typically answer as if solving for what. For example, Why are you on a diet? might get a person to reply, Because I am overweight and I want to lose weight. The person actually answered What are you on a diet for?
Aren’t I Just Majoring on Semantics?
Who, what, where, why, when? Does it really matter what interrogative I lead with? Aren’t I just making a big deal out of nothing?
Let me try to build the case for why why matters.
If you ask What are you on a diet for, and the person answers, To lose weight then when the person has lost weight, the what is gone and so is the diet.
But if you can discover the compelling why something seemingly miraculous can happen. Your why won’t be mine, but let’s pretend you actually answer Why are you on a diet? and you solve for why. You say, I’m on a diet because I’m the kind of person who is agile, alert, and fit until I die, now you have a state of being that drives your actions well beyond a set weight on the scale.
I’m Still Not Convinced
Couldn’t I’m agile, alert, and fit until I die be the answer to What do you diet for?
Yes. And that’s why why is such a challenge. Part of me hates to end here, but for now, this is a half-built puzzle, and I could sure use your help getting it finished.
What do you think? How are What, Why, and Who different? I welcome your comments, your thoughts, you insights. Tell me what you think. Let’s work toward why together.
This episode is so powerful, and personal. It challenges me in ways I can scarcely articulate.
It is important. Critical. To avoid confronting these/this questions is to diminish our individual paths, and erect roadblocks for others. We writers are private and isolated, but our choices in the broader sense impact the writers against whom we "compete" - willingly or inevitably.
I could go on as long as Jody did, here. Instead, I will beg others like me to listen, and ponder, the content.
Why, indeed. The "why" is everything here.
I think I had similar trouble until I understood that the questions are all interrelated. For instance, I started with WHAT need do I see in the world? After that, I asked, WHY is it important? Then, HOW could I help? And ended with, WHO would I serve?
There are a lot of needs in the world. Some are less important than others. Some you won't be able to have any impact on, but if you can figure out all those questions then something magical happens in your fiction. It's not just about writing stories for the sake of stories but writing stories to help others.
I'm not under the pretense my stories will transform the world but if it helps a few people/kids see the world differently, then that's probably the greatest impact I could have.
Ultimately, I think sometimes we are so conditioned against having a message in our content (don't want to be preachy) that we lose sight of how important it is to have strong themes in our work. We might have one naturally come about but it won't be as powerful as those we are most passionate about.