
Yesterday, I met with my writing mentor. She arrived with an air of quiet confidence, dressed in a crisp royal blue blouse and a matching deep stone sapphire ring, a sleek black skirt, and purple framed glasses that added a touch of creativity to her otherwise professional look. Her presence commanding attention. I couldn’t help but feel engaged as we dove into our discussion.
We booked a small study room at the local library. It was a perfect size I’d say 8 x 10ft… quiet, tucked away, and private enough that no one could overhear our conversation. The walls were bare, with only a whiteboard… just the kind of blank canvas I need for enhanced concentration.
I prepared a meeting agenda. I hoped it would help guide our discussion and keep us focused on the specific topics I planned in mind. She appreciated the structure, making a positive comment on my planning skills. She had only brought with her the first two pages and an outline of her own book project.
We began with a review of the progress. I talked about completing research on running associations, my ongoing struggle with identifying my deeper “Why” and the current challenges I’m facing with organizing the flow of the content.
I asked, “Can the ‘Why’ change? Why I ran? And Why I’m writing?”
She smiled and said, “Of course it can.”
“Oh, ok. Well, that certainly makes it easier.” I replied, feeling a weight lift.
We talked about pen names and the reason behind them. She had me read aloud an excerpt of her new book. She asked what my biggest takeaway had been from the last meeting we had. I mentioned the amount of learning about the running community, race directing, course certification processes, marketing the sport, attracting different types of people to it and coaching.
I told her I’d like to coach or teach others about running and had completed my first course on how to lead run groups from the Road Runners Club of America, perhaps that may be where my purpose lies.
“Great!” she said. “Use that. Make that your reason for writing this book, and yes, it can change later.”
Simple. Clear. That clicked.
We discussed my outline, and she agreed it was strong.
My next task is to find a parallel between running and life and use that as the book’s central theme. It doesn’t need to follow a chronological order. It can flow naturally, guided by meaning rather than timeline. The key is to find a deeper theme…. something from life that running can reflect or amplify.
Most importantly the “hook.” Start with something that pulls the reader in immediately. Make them want to run with me.
She went off to mention that my deadline for having this done in a year is somewhat unrealistic.
I asked “Well then, what is a realistic deadline?”
I waited for a date or time frame, ready to jot it down in my notebook.
She said, “To have a book” then paused.
I waited. Listening. Hoping for her to say 2 years or 3. “Yes. What’s the timeframe?” I asked again.
“To have a book” she replied.
I looked at her, eagerly waiting for the calendar date, thinking she might have been running the calculation in her head.
She paused and looked at me. “There is no timeframe. There is no deadline. Simply To Have a Book.” her words came sharply, and precise this time around.
I can’t process that. I thought. I need to have a date. It’s what helps keep me disciplined. It’s what keeps me in the act of moving forward.
“Time adds Pressure.” she said.
I listened intently and confirmed the validity of her statement. True. I thought.
But pressure can be helpful. Right? It helps us become aware of our time limits. Helping us make the most of each day…. spending time with a sense of urgency. Also, pressure can help sharpen focus. I thought.
“The book will be done, when the book is done. When you read it and you wouldn’t change a thing.” Across the natural oak rectangular table, she looked me straight in the eyes and voiced gently, “No deadline.”
My smile lingered in the quiet between us.
Leave a comment