This week’s article isn’t going to be one of my coaching-centered articles. I mean, it’s certainly about Kings and Kingly stuff, but it isn’t about coaching.
Although, I am taking new clients this month. Send an email to [email protected] to schedule your sample session. You may want to jump on that after you read this week’s column.
Back in March, my friend and former New Yorker (and Tuscaloosan for that matter) Erica sent me a Facebook message about something that totally blew me away. That message proved to be the best investment I made since I joined Accomplishment Coaching.
Erica messaged me about an event called the Writers Hotel writers conference. This is a five-day intensive experience where your work is workshopped by an instructor as well as your peers. You get the opportunity to meet and pitch to literary agents. And you also have the opportunity to perform a reading of your work in New York City. To say nothing of invaluable classroom lectures and instruction.
When I applied, I submitted the first five thousand words or so of my manuscript. And I got professional feedback from that material as well.
I also had a phone screener interview with a man named Scott Wolven. He’s one of the conference directors and a helluva writer in his own right.
That right there was the first win for me. Because while I had every right to be nervous and anxious during the interview, I was nothing of the sort. I was present, and I was personable.
And I got in.
After having a slight nutty figuring out how I was going to pay the tuition for this, I got set up.
Let’s flash forward to Wednesday, June 6. This was the welcoming ceremony and faculty reading for the event. Scott and several other of the instructors and other authors read their work in this charming little bookstore in Midtown Manhattan.
As can be my wont, I had another nutty. I was intimidated, and I didn’t believe I deserved to be there. I posted a Facebook live video pretty much outlining this.
I didn’t believe my talents, skills, and presence deserved to be there. I thought I was way over my head. But I made my stand: “Why not me?”
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I received a message from my friend and coaching colleague Jason. And he lovingly read me the riot act about this.
I didn’t believe my talents, skills, and presence deserved to be there. I thought I was way over my head.
After my message from Jason, I made my stand: “Why not me?” Why not Ryan? Why not me?
As the week went along, I was blown away by how much I belonged among the greats.
Let’s go back to Friday, June 8. This was a night I had been looking forward to and excited about for months.
Storytelling is in my blood. It’s in my DNA.
Why I’m a writer today is thanks to a man named Melborn Ivey. Best known as Granddaddy, he was the king of the campfire storytellers.
Granddaddy was an award-winning farmer. He had one of those irrigation rigs that stretched on for hundreds of yards. And one of them wasn’t working, causing a patch of dead peanuts.
In the summer of 1987, my family was down from Tuscaloosa visiting him. One hot and muggy night that July, he invited me to ride with him to check on the irrigation rig around the time the timer was set to go off.
There were a ton of lightning bugs out that night. And he had a ten-year-old Ryan so hooked on what he was saying. He had me convinced that those lightning bugs were a race of alien monkeys put on Earth to sabotage irrigation equipment.
I had to turn that into something he could read. Thanks to my mom working with me, Monkeytown turned into my first ever short story.
I share this because the KGB Bar in the East Village served as the substitute for granddaddy’s Ford F-150.
For the 10 minutes I was on that stage, I had the time of my life. I brought life to a pretty emotional section of my new novel.
While I had some really awesome in-person support – even a date I met in person for the first time – I had so much more spirit world support. And I have no doubt that Melborn Ivey and Ann Ivey Hall were among the many there cheering me on.
Two days later, I got the surprise of a lifetime.
We had a gaggle of literary agents pay us a visit. And we all had brief pitch meetings with however many we could fit in.
So many of my classmates were nervous and anxious about this. I think they felt like they had to impress these people.
I pulled on all my coaching skills and training, and I was relaxed. I was easy. And I was comfortable.
They wanted to see us as much as we wanted to see them. They want the next great novel, y’all.
I didn’t sign with an agent…yet. I got requests from most every one of the agents I met with. And this is practically unheard of!
They seemed to be all in on me and my work. Granted, I’ve got to finish revisions on my manuscript, but that’s just a formality at this point.
The agent thing – that’s a mere stepping stone to what I really want.
I speak with my coaching clients often about going “all in” on their lives. What’s it going to take to go all in on your life and your dreams?
Go all in on your life. Shove all your chips in the middle. Take a chance!
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Shoving all your chips in the middle of the table is a risky proposition. You could lose huge. You could lose it all.
Or you could win huge and win it all!
You can’t win unless you play!
I played. I bet on myself. And I won!
I can see the exact author career I want. It’s not a pipedream.
New York Times bestselling author Ryan D. Hall isn’t a pipedream. It can be reality.
I belong on this stage. I belong with the giants.
It’s because I am that good!
To Shanna McNair and the entire staff with the Writer’s Hotel, I cannot thank you enough. To my classmates, I can’t thank you enough. This will prove to be one of those pivotal events in my life.
Go all in on your life. Shove all your chips in the middle. Take a chance!
Your dreams and your life will thank you.
Now…back to my manuscript.
Photo by Skye Studios on Unsplash