Posts by William Kenower
Call Me By My Name—Or Not

When my writing goes out into the world, I want my name emblazoned on it for all to see. Except for the two times I didn’t.

Real name, pen name, which byline option is right for you? Authors might opt for a pseudonym if they:

  • Prefer a barrier between their publishing and private lives.

  • Want to shield someone else from the fallout of their writing.

  • Need to cordon off their writing from their other professional endeavors.

  • Write in a genre typically associated with a gender that is not their own.

  • Have established certain expectations in their readers but want to try Something Completely Different.

  • Have a name they believe is too difficult to spell or pronounce, or that is identical or confusingly similar to someone who is already famous or infamous.

  • Don’t like the name given to them at birth or acquired by marriage.

Examples of literary name changes are as varied as their reasons.

I don’t have enough fingers to count the times I’ve been asked if writing was therapy. I have a therapist for that, and I wouldn’t use my friends, family, or the Internet for that purpose. But writing does help me make sense of the world. The act of getting thoughts out of our heads creates both a closeness and a distance that allows us space to heal.

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How to Create a Problem and How to Undo It: The End of Chasing Answers

There is a video depicting a twelve-year-old girl suffering from a “Habit Cough” – a chronic condition in which the patient has an illness that involves coughing, but once the illness goes away the cough persists. For this young girl, her coughing was so constant she had to stop going to school. The video shows her working with a doctor using Suggestion Therapy. He explains there is no physiological reason for the cough – it’s more of an automatic response or reaction. He teaches her how to take control of the cough by showing her she can resist it for a few minutes at first, and then walking her through adding a minute at a time. She is to take deep, slow breaths and sip water when the impulse to cough comes. He tells her she has to concentrate; it’s the only way for her to gain control.

The girl inadvertently created a problem by habitually reacting to a feeling (in her throat). In our day-to-day lives, our reactions to things can create the same kind of effect and the same similar oppressive patterns that keep us feeling stuck. The areas in which we feel out of control have to do with us habitually reacting to our feelings, which is not the same as allowing ourselves to feel them.

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Why Do I Write Like I'm Running Out of Time?

On the day the dental specialist told me I had cancer, I started a blog. It was the only response that made any sense to me – to put down words, to document it all. It was the easiest way to keep everyone updated, but more importantly, it felt like the only way I could take control of my own narrative. It was my opportunity to show people how to approach my illness: with honesty, compassion, and humour.

I don’t have enough fingers to count the times I’ve been asked if writing was therapy. I have a therapist for that, and I wouldn’t use my friends, family, or the Internet for that purpose. But writing does help me make sense of the world. The act of getting thoughts out of our heads creates both a closeness and a distance that allows us space to heal.

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What You Don’t Know Can’t Hurt You

I was in Eugene to give a talk several years ago when I came as close as I have ever come to experiencing stage fright. I was still new to the kind of hour-long talks authors are invited to give. As a young man, I had done a fair amount of theater, so I was comfortable enough on the stage – but it is one thing to memorize your lines and blocking, and another thing to more or less wing it alone at a podium. I never script my talks; in fact I barely follow an outline. I knew from the first time I gave a talk that the more improvisational I could be, the better.

However, on this night, as I waited off stage and listened to my introduction, an insidious thought crept into my head. “What if you have nothing to say? What if you get up there, in front of all those people, and simply have nothing to say?” I began picturing myself mute at the microphone, struck dumb by a form of public writer’s block. My heart began to pound. There is a reason comedians say they “died” when they have a bad night. To stand in that spotlight, my silence a testament to my fraudulence, was as unimaginably intolerable to me as death. I had to do something. I had to save my life. And so I said to myself, “Think of something. Think of something to say right now!”

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Writing About Tough Times

The first time I sat down to write about my experiences as an expat in Cambodia and the circumstances surrounding my departure from the country, paralysis struck. Suddenly I was wading through memories. I searched for one to jot down that could encapsulate how I’d felt at home in the town of Siem Reap, or how painful it was to need to leave in search of first-world healthcare. Part of writing personal essays or memoir is putting myself mentally back in a particular scene, viscerally remembering all that I had noticed in it so I can choose which details to write about. This time I appeared on street 26, where my German boyfriend’s hostel stood among the banana palms. The dusty red road covered in a mess of traffic came to life, as did the tendrils of jungle that crept toward that traffic, as if the infrastructure of the city were only a temporary obstacle for the tangle of green to overcome. I heard the cries of tuk-tuk la-dyyy from the drivers that lined street, saw the floral pajama sets that the local women wore, smelled the burning trash and incense. Something powerful welled up in my chest, choking me with a former reality that was now intangible. I backed away from my computer, wrapped in a shroud of memory. My mind raced toward the moment I’d gone swimming in a flooded rice paddy and developed an E. Coli sinus infection, and the months of pain, fatigue, IV antibiotics, and hospital visits that followed. Memories passed through me like a ghost, so I turned on a sit-com and distracted myself with it for the next few hours. It was too soon to revisit that tender place in my mind.

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Unbroken and Appropriate: Cultivating the Self-Compassion to Do Our Work

When my son was about two-and-a-half, I was sitting on the couch reading a Winnie the Pooh board book to him when he fell down on the floor and made a number of peculiar movements. I didn’t know what was happening. He was late to talking, so wasn’t able to communicate all that clearly yet. Within moments, I realized he was just acting out the story. But until I connected those dots, I couldn’t understand what was happening and his behavior seemed weird and worrisome. That behavior was completely appropriate, but I didn’t see it that way until I understood the premise from which he was acting.

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Tips for the Writing Journey

My rights have been returned!

Wait a minute. The rights for two books I signed over to the publishing company. The rights they accepted. Now, they were returning them? What exactly did that mean? That my two books would no longer be available? What about the separate year-long journeys of edits and re-edits I made? And what about all the time I had invested in writing them? And who could forget the waiting game I played—on editorial suggestions, on design, on production. Then came the day when I finally held a copy of each book, along with the excitement that I had written what lay inside the covers. Now, it was all over.

I emailed my executive editor, who was a successful novelist, writing coach, and inspirational article writer. Also, a friend. I needed comfort … reassurance. Was I finished as a writer?

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ENVY: or The Greasy Green Perils of the Writing Life

I recently published my seventh book and first collection of short stories, THE MAN WHO LOVED HIS WIFE. It's both my best book and my worst launch. That's because there was no launch. My indie publisher, Mayapple Press, has plenty of grit and commitment, but only enough pennies in the publicity budget to afford to put my book on their website.

A few weeks before my own non-launch, a friend from grad school published her second novel with a Big Five house. It was promptly reviewed in The New York Times Book Review and elsewhere. As bad as that was, it was nothing compared to googling her stats and finding that she had some 744 reviews on Goodreads--compared to my six.

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Our Path: Getting Over Obstacles, Resistance, and Retreat

When I worked at a daycare years ago, there was a five-year-old boy there named Phil. Slender and taller, with light blond hair and white, somewhat pasty skin, he often looked as though he’d been torn from bed only moments before arriving. Even while we were talking, I felt like I should be careful not to wake him. Phil seemed exhausted – if not by lack of sleep, then by lack of interest and the intrusion of the unwanted, bustling outer world. He often arrived in a worn t-shirt, pajama bottoms, and tall, black rubber boots, and would soon disappear into one of the play structures and remain there for, it seemed, as long as possible.

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The Power of Asking

It was the day of the Aurora Awards in Vancouver, and Spider Robinson, science fiction grandmaster and author of The Callihan Series, was at the front desk of the hotel where the convention was taking place, asking directions on how to get to Granville. Seeing him there, I had a window of opportunity. I do a podcast called Just Joshing in which I interview authors and other creative people, and here was a living legend in front of me. I looked at myself in the mirror and shrugged, “The worst he can say is no.” I asked Spider Robinson to come on my show. Not only did I get a yes, but he gave me his email and his phone number so I could contact him.

Our conversation was epic. Spider is a man who has lived a very magical life, and it was inspiring listening to him talk about the White House, completing that Robert Heinlein manuscript, and mourning his wife Jeanne. In that conversation, I got a glimpse of the man behind the legend, and I’ll never forget it for as long as I live.

A lot of my success has come from asking. Whether I ask a guest to come on my show, or submit a pitch to an editor, or request a meeting with an agent, there is power with coming out there and asking for what you want. It's something I realize that neither writers nor editors do enough of. Why don't we? When I ask fellow creatives about this, eyes look downward and people get nervous when they answer me. Rejection is a difficult pill to swallow with even the simplest requests.

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What Are the Odds?

Because I want to improve my craft, I join organizations for writers. One such group, Triangle Area Freelancers, meets monthly. Like everything else during the pandemic years of isolation, these formerly in-person meetings are now relegated to internet gatherings via Zoom. Added to the regular get-togethers were Zooms with well-known authors, organized by our TAF founder, Donald Vaughan. Recently, the featured talk was by Sean Flynn, an acclaimed journalist who’s written for Esquire and GQ; he often reports harrowing stories like that of the boys trapped in a flooding cave in Thailand.

Sean Flynn has written a non-fiction book about peacocks that is also about the meaning of life, serving as a memoir in addition to being a celebration of this enchanting bird.

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Writing Past Loss of Trust: The Effects of Plagiarism

I will never forget when my first manuscript was taken. I was a new mother and wife in my early twenties. My husband and I were members of a leadership team for a growing, well-known, and often controversial congregation.

Raised by religion to be a silent participant, I had a lifetime of abusive molding in the name of submission. By my teen years, I had learned staying silent was safer.

However, longing desperately to be understood, I wrote in diaries. In those accounts, I would pose questions about how I saw women being treated. I would likewise write about my confusion surrounding childhood abuse.

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How to Pitch Your Book to the Media

Steps for finding the right media contacts, writing a great pitch, and getting better engagement

How do books get covered by digital magazines, newspapers, TV talk shows, and radio programs? Publicists spend a lot of time cultivating relationships with specific media contacts to help their authors’ books get the recognition they deserve. After more than a decade of helping our clients secure coverage in top outlets like The New York Times, NPR, Good Housekeeping, Cosmopolitan and many more, I have some time-tested strategies that will help you find, pitch, and get more responses from the media outlets you want to reach.

But first, what is a “pitch”? A pitch is a succinct, persuasive email sent from a publicist (or you as the author) to a media contact about a book, for the purposes of getting that book “covered” or featured in some way by the outlet.

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Writing as a Public Service

During the early days of the quarantine, I kept silent when writer friends revealed they’d turned a viral lemon into a pool-sized vat of lemonade. Stuck at home, they wrote. Some, incessantly. They sold their books. They started new manuscripts. Some found agents. Bottom line, they adapted to the new restrictions, but still engaged their creativity and continued to succeed as writers.

I didn’t. When COVID hit, I couldn’t go near my writing, or even relax enough to read for fun. While many turned their anxiety into literary fuel, I fueled my anxiety with everything COVID. I became obsessed with the news. Ultimately, I created alerts from eight different sources and read their similar stories multiple times. I even set my browser default to the New York Times. At my core I believed my actions were a search for clarity. I wanted – I needed – facts. All the facts. I felt compelled to stand a vigilant watch, otherwise the virus could storm the gates. Of course, it did anyway.

According to a March 2020 article in The Washington Post, when Isaac Newton quarantined at home for a year during the 1665 Great Plague of London, he didn’t allow a similar event to wipe out his creativity. On the contrary, he discovered the Laws of Gravity, Optics, and just for grins, he invented early Calculus.

The showoff.

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Publishing a Novel About Agoraphobia During a Pandemic

I did not set out to write any kind of pandemic novel. In fact, when I finished writing Wesley Yorstead Goes Outside in 2012, it was an MFA thesis project I hoped to publish. I eagerly began querying agents, and after 110 query letters, an agent said yes. I was thrilled. I did a major revision based on my agent’s excellent feedback, and we were ready to start submitting to publishers. I thought the hard part was over. Then, the real pitching began.

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And Frank Kept Singing Anyway: Why Write Against All Odds?

It’s bad enough that you want to be a writer.

Consider the obstacles.

First, you must face the terror of the blank page. Will you submit to the terror, or will you attempt to make something out of nothing, with the audacity and power of a god?

You, a god? Sure, why not. Pick up the pen. Pound the keys. See what happens.

Okay, so you try.

You begin.

You begin to write, often without a clue where you’re going. Nobody puts a GPS in your hand. For a destination all you have is a vague idea of a white house with a soft light in the window. With a lump in your throat you get in the car and start driving. It’s raining mules and donkeys, your windshield wipers are swishing madly to and fro, the road ahead is thick with fog, you are cold and miserable, and all you want to do is reach the house with the soft light in the window. Along the way are many detours, many witches who whisper to you to disembark and come away and play. If you are stubborn, like I am, you drive on. If you are unprepared, as I am, you run out of petrol and join the witches. I have done both.

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Believing in the Muse

I was at a writer’s conference recently listening to a panel of authors discuss their writing process. They were asked if they believed in the Muse. One by one each author leaned into their microphones and gave an emphatic, “Yes!” or an equally emphatic, “No!” By the time the last author had answered I counted and saw that the panel was perfectly divided. It’s like they were asked if they believe in God, I thought.

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Connected Writers: How Writing Teaches Us How to Live

It was Christmastime, which meant my mother had come to visit, and so my wife, Jen, and I took a couple weeks off from writing. Christmastime also meant lots of football to watch and lots of presents to wrap, and because my mom loved football as much as I did, and because Jen is a superior wrapper, she was in the studio getting a head start on the presents while Mom and I were in the living room watching the first half of the Seahawks game.

Halfway through the third quarter my wife appeared looking a little bleary. “You guys going to watch the rest of this game?”

“It’s a close one,” I said. “So, yeah.”

She sighed and made her way back to the studio. I didn’t like that. I believed I knew what her sigh meant, but I only got to watch football with my mom once a year, so I stayed on the couch until the middle of the fourth when the outcome seemed inevitable.

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Owning Your Aesthetic

I was 18 in 1983 when the band Huey Lewis and the News released their hit album Sports, which included the song The Heart of Rock and Roll. The music I listened to was very important to me at that time. Along with poetry and fiction, it served as a lifeline when my days felt meaningless and stale. Not just any poem, story, or song could serve as this lifeline, however. The artist had to be able to pluck some string in my heart, and if they couldn’t, their work was just more noise and fodder to me, cluttering up a dull world.

Huey Lewis and the News did not pluck that string. Unfortunately, Sports hit number one on the Billboard 200, and the News’s music, particularly The Heart of Rock and Roll, was all over the radio and MTV. To say I didn’t like this song would be generous. When I heard it, I’d dip briefly into an existential malaise. What kind of a world did I live in that this song was so popular? What hope was there to find meaningful connection with my fellow man if they were all listening to Huey Lewis and the Goddamned News? In those days my passions ran very hot and cold.

A decade or so later I was waiting tables at an upscale steakhouse in Seattle. One evening, I approached a new table of four men in suits. One of them was talking emphatically, so much so that he didn’t look up or pause when I arrived.

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Don’t Find Your Voice, Accept It

I found my voice as a writer rather late in my writing life. I spent twenty years trying to write fiction. I had read fiction voraciously as a boy and young man, but had largely stopped reading it by the time I decided to try writing it. It was a strange choice in a way, but I didn’t know what else to do. I knew I loved to write, and since fiction was all I’d ever loved to read I took what seemed like the logical, practical step to try to write it.

It was not so practical, as it turned out. I was trying to tell stories I had lost interest in hearing. No matter how hard I worked at my craft, no matter how disciplined I was at rewriting what I’d written, I could not overcome the disconnect between my inherent curiosity and the stories I was trying to tell. I could not command my curiosity; it remained permanently independent of my willpower.

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