Ken Fite

I used to wonder why my wife was so tired when I got home from work every day… that is, until she went away for a weekend and I became ‘Mr. Mom’ to our two boys. That’s when I started paying closer attention to the differences between my days at work and her days at home with the kids. What I discovered was terrifying and should send a chill down the spines of dads everywhere.

Because as I sleep peacefully and uninterruptedly, a miniature assassin often stands at my wife’s side of the bed at three in the morning, waking her up, because he had ‘a bad dream about ants.’

While I decidedly pick out a shirt to wear to work, my wife patiently waits for our eight-year-old to go through every shirt in his closet and ultimately choose a shirt from the dirty basket to wear.

While I listen to music on my drive to work, my wife listens to the joyous melody of the kids screaming and calling each other stupid-heads because they both want to read the same book.

While I swiftly work the five items on my to-do list through to completion, my wife works the first item on her to-do list five times over after being interrupted by demands for more chocolate milk.

While I enjoy a peaceful lunch as I ponder the meaning of life, my wife eats whatever cold, leftover mac n’ cheese that wasn’t flung on our kitchen wall as she ponders the meaning of mom life.

While I go for a relaxing walk before returning from my lunch break, my wife has already buckled our four-year-old into the car seat twice, effectively burning twice as many calories as I have.

While I have a tough meeting at work, my wife has already dealt with a terrorist who threw himself onto the floor because one of his french fries had a brown spot on it, making all other fries inedible.

While I drive home, imagining what kind of delicious meal my wife is preparing for me and wondering just what in the world she’s been doing at home all day, my wife has done the grocery shopping, washed clothes, helped with homework, cleaned and vacuumed the house, successfully negotiated a peace deal between two brothers hell-bent on killing each other, and made us dinner.

Motherhood can be so tough… the screaming… the tantrums… the crying… then there’s the kids!

But trust me, fellow dads, there’s a reason why she’s so tired. Pray that your wife never decides to go away for a weekend, or you’ll get a chance to understand this for yourself. You’ve been warned.

Teacher Appreciation Week starts on Monday and it’s made me think a lot about all of the many different teachers over the years who have guided and shaped me into the person that I am today.

For example, my kindergarten teacher, Ms. Fragé, taught me not to stand on top of tables during quiet time (a lesson reinforced by my parents with a little solitary confinement when I got home).

And at the other end, I learned from Dr. Barringer in my last grad school class how much fun entrepreneurship can be, which I think really influenced me to become an authorpreneur of sorts.

But of all of the many teachers I’ve had throughout the years, my favorite was Mr. Schmaus.

Schmaus was our high school band director. And he put up with a lot from us kids. For example, my best friend used to sneak into his office all of the time, lock the door, and Xerox his derriere.

Then he’d sporradically insert copies into Schmaus’s sheet music when he wasn’t looking and we’d all try to maintain our composure and continue to play whatever music we were practicing for the 937th time, and watch his reaction with both horror and delight as our fearless leader would turn the page he was conducting from, realize that he was being pranked, and try to stay focused.

On another occasion, Schmaus was the victim of a more serious prank, one that could have been deadly. A student had set a pipe bomb in the bathroom one Friday afternoon. Schmaus walked in after a concert, found the string on the floor, and thinking it was trash (???) triggered the tripwire, causing the commode to explode, and sending water and white, ceramic powder everywhere.

That was stupid. Someone could have been seriously hurt — or killed. The student was expelled. And Schmaus added one more tale to his repertoire to recount with his fellow educators.

So, to say that teachers put up with a lot from their students would be a HUGE understatement. But what teachers do best is — well — teach. And sometimes their lessons are less obvious.

Because what my high school band director really taught me wasn’t music…

In middle school, I played trombone. And I sucked — BIG TIME. Years later, I found out that I was coerced into playing trombone “because I had the lips of a trombone player” which wasn’t true. The reality was, the band director just had too many trumpets. But in my heart, I wasn’t a trombone player. I was a trumpet player. So the summer between grades 9 and 10, I bought a trumpet.

And after spending my freshman year as a trombone player, I showed up to band class with a trumpet and sat at the end of a very (VERY) long row of trumpet players our first day back.

Schmaus could have loaned me a trombone (we had plenty… they were in the back storage room… musty and smelly and moldy and used, I guessed, by the countless kids from years past… those whose class pictures lined the hallowed halls of Lyman High School’s band room entrance.)

Schmaus could have said he had too many trumpet players and insisted that I sit out until I agreed that I was a trombone player and sentenced me to go and photocopy reams of sheet music for his top band class, or jazz band, or marching band, and maybe asked me to do one final check for him to make sure no photocopies of human anatomy were hidden anywhere, awaiting his discovery.

Schmaus could have sent me outside to “prepare the marching band practice field” (i.e. pick up trash and put the cones down all over the massive parking lot).

But he didn’t.

Instead, when I sat before my band director, declaring my new brass instrument of choice, Schmaus simply smiled, nodded knowingly, and said, “Okay, Ken. You’re a trumpet player.”

Over the next three school years, I got in top band. I joined jazz band. Schmaus put me in charge of the detail crew. Then he made me section leader. And I won the annual march-off my last year.

Not because I was good, because I wasn’t. I tried hard because Mr. Schmaus believed in me.

Good teachers don’t tell you who you’re supposed to be. They listen to you. They work with you. They don’t treat you like the person you are. They treat you like the person they know you can be.

So this next week, please do something for the many teachers in your lives.

Tell them “thank you.”

Because what my band director taught me wasn’t music. He taught me that it’s okay to take risks… he taught me how to be a leader… and he taught me that I’m capable of more than I think I am.

If you don’t know why you’re thanking them today, thank them anyway. You’ll understand one day.

Thank you, Mr. Schmaus.

For most of my life, I used to think that fiction was pointless. Why would anybody waste their time reading made up stories when they can just read nonfiction to improve their lives? I would think.

I focused on reading nonfiction. That’s what I tried writing, too. But the books that I read lacked soul and came across as preachy. And my own nonfiction, though I think it had heart, didn’t resonate the way I wanted it to, either. I turned back to reading fiction and eventually realized that the really great novels all had a hidden truth embedded inside their stories for readers to discover.

So when I started to write my own novels, I made sure to include important truths in my writing, knowing that the hidden message would have a better chance of being accepted through a story.

Because if I told you there is honor in never leaving a man behind, however that applies to you, you might not believe me. But if you read my first novel, The Senator, you might change your mind.

If I told you that you can’t escape your destiny, the thing you were born to do, you might not buy that. But if you read my second novel, Credible Threat, you might see the truth in that statement.

And if I told you that your past doesn’t define your future, you might disagree and tell me that I have that wrong. But if you read my latest novel, In Plain Sight, you might understand that we all have hard choices that we need to make if we want to escape the shadows of a broken past.

Most of my readers found me through my fiction, but many from my nonfiction days stayed along for the ride. Thank you for sticking with me, but I encourage you to try reading a novel. It doesn’t have to be one of mine, but pick up a book in a genre you think you might enjoy and give it a try.

Because if the writer knows what they’re doing, they’ll take you on a wild ride during the main plot, but the B story — the inner journey the hero goes on — will contain a truth that we all need to hear.

On February 25th, I wrote a blog post called My new 40-day commitment. I was 45 chapters into my 60 chapter novel and was reminded of writing advice I had heard once: that when you’re close to the end, you have to race to the finish, letting NOTHING stop you, or you may never get it done. So I decided to say no to a few things (including this blog) to focus on writing the end of the story.

And I made a promise to you that I’d finish the book and have it ready for you to read by day #40.

Keeping promises isn’t easy, not if you care about the people you make your promises to. I started off strong on day #1, thinking that I had plenty of time to finish the novel without having the last 15 chapters outlined or even a book title picked out yet. I wasn’t even sure how the thing would end.

During those 40 days, I think I went through the entire Hero’s Journey story arc that my book’s hero, Blake Jordan, goes through in his adventures. There was the inciting incident that changes everything — my decision to finish the novel in 40 days. There was the the first major plot twist — when I found out that the perfect name that I finally came up with for the book was already taken. There was the false victory at the midpoint — when I finished the first draft at day 20 and thought I was golden! (I wasn’t!) There was the second major plot twist — when my cover design came back looking nothing like I needed it to. Then there was the dark night of the soul — when I had to start waking up an hour earlier every day, at 4AM, to get everything right, knowing that I only had 10 days left and I honestly didn’t see how reaching my goal was even possible anymore.

But believe me when I tell you that something amazing starts to happen when you’re bold enough to put a date on your dream and you decide to tell others about it (and say A LOT of little prayers).

The things that aren’t important, like your favorite TV shows and Facebook, get ignored. What you have to do to keep your commitment becomes perfectly clear. And mighty forces come to your aid.

The edits, the proofreading, the cover, the title, everything came together not before and not after — but ON day #40, capping off the Hero’s Journey with the ending that made perfect sense.

And on Thursday, April 6th, 40 days after putting a date on my dream, my novel In Plain Sight was finished and sent out into the world. Whether or not anyone would ever read it didn’t matter to me. I went to bed that night knowing that I had reached my goal and kept a promise that I had made.

I thought I’d share the process that I went through with you because I think we all have goals, things we want to say that we’ve accomplished, but we don’t make the hard choices to finish them.

But you have to make those hard choices.

And you have to keep the promises that you make, even if they’re only to yourself.

Say a lot of little prayers and be bold.

Then get out your calendar and put a date on your dream.

You’ll experience your own Hero’s Journey, with plot twists, false victories, and even a dark knight of the soul moment where you’ll think there’s no way you will ever be able to reach your goal.

Don’t believe it.

Keep pressing forward and race to the finish toward your goal. Mighty forces will come to your aid.

I consider chocolate to be in its own food group (same goes with coffee). I eat it when I’m stressed. I eat even more chocolate when I’m not stressed. When I take my boys to Dunkin’ Donuts, I don’t just get a chocolate donut, I get double chocolate. Give me chocolate on top of my chocolate, kind donut lady behind the counter. And while you’re at it, go ahead and double it, thank you very much.

Knowing this about myself, I wasn’t quite sure what to think when my wife Missy told me that she was going to be starting a 40-day sugar fast. Being somewhat competitive, I told her I’d do it, too. Can’t be that hard. Right?

Wrong. Twenty-one days in, I hit a wall. I felt like I couldn’t go another day without sweets. Sure, I was less tired and I couldn’t balance the remote on my stomach anymore, but it was killin’ me!

Missy told me I could quit. And I was going to. Unfortunately, I happened to look at some of the blog posts I wrote over the last few weeks. I wrote about the power of persistence and about being courageous. I wrote about the choices that we make. And I wrote about the one character trait that’s helped me succeed over the years: when I want something, I don’t give up until I get it.

All this thinkin’ about making goals and achieving them made me think about a goal I’ve been working toward since October: finishing my third novel. I’m 45 chapters in. I have about 12 more to go and I’m stuck. Not because I can’t figure out how to land this thing, I’m stuck because I feel distracted. And if I’m honest with you, this blog is one of those distractions. I can either work on a huge novel and not get feedback on it for months, or I can write a Saturday morning blog post and get feedback immediately. It’s like writer’s chocolate! But reading the results from the survey I sent two weeks ago, it’s clear: as much as you like the blog, you like my novels even more.

In case you’re wondering, I reached my goal. Today is day #41 (or as I’m calling it, day #1 of my non-sugar fast). It’s also day #1 of my commitment to finish this novel and start on another 40 day fast, this time from the chocolatey allure of blogging. I’m not sure if I can finish novel #3 in 40 days, but I’m going to try my best. Because I believe that committing to a goal is powerful and I want to succeed. It’s going to take a lot of hard work, and even more double-chocolates from the lady at the donut shop. But in 40 days, I hope to have something amazing for you to read. See you then.

As I begin writing the last few chapters of my next novel, it’s time to reveal to the reader one of the things I’ve hinted at throughout the book as I’ve been writing it: the hero’s want vs the hero’s need.

It’s an element of story that every good novel has. The protagonist starts out with something that he wants which seems reasonable and good. But as the final chapters arrive, he starts to realize that what he needs is in the end much better than what he wanted at the beginning of the story.

One of the reasons why we like stories so much is because they can be used as a guide to show us how to navigate this thing called life. Because in real life, we all struggle with wants and needs. And when I think about wants versus needs, I start to think about unanswered prayers. I’ve said a lot of prayers in my life for things that I wanted. But many of them weren’t answered as I expected.

Because when I didn’t get into the college that I wanted, I ended up at the school that I needed.

When I didn’t get that perfect job that I wanted, I wound up with an even better job that I needed.

When my business didn’t turn out like I wanted, I found a new passion for writing that I needed.

And when I didn’t get the girl I thought I wanted, I met my wife, the one I needed (hat tip to Garth).

Just a few examples that come to mind… I want to give more, but I need to get back to my novel!

So pay attention to the stories that you read and the movies that you see. Look for the thing that the hero wants. And compare that with the thing he gets in the end, the thing that he really needed all along. Use it as a guide for your own life, knowing that when your prayers go unanswered and you don’t get what you want, you’re just that much closer to getting the thing that you really need.

Because some of God’s greatest gifts really are unanswered prayers.

I’ve never really considered myself to be a man of many talents. Lucky, maybe. But not talented.

That’s not me being a Debbie Downer (or whatever the male equivalent is). There’s just usually someone smarter and definitely more talented than me in the room (unless it’s a very small room).

Last week, I shared with you my secret fear. Today, I’m sharing my one and only secret talent.

It’s the one thing I have going for me that sets me apart: When I want something, I don’t quit.

A river cuts through rock, not because of its power, but because of its relentless persistence.

Are you being relentlessly persistent in pursuing the thing you feel called to do? If not, why not?

If the answer is because it’s too hard or it will take too much time, you’re right. But someone will push through the resistance. Someone will put in the hours. Someone will fight for one more day.

That person will win. And there’s no reason why that person can’t be you.

Success at anything worthwhile takes a lot of time. But there is power in persistence. When you show up every day and work on your dream, you open the door to allow luck to be able to find you.

We all have fears. Some are obvious. Others, hidden. My secret fear, as far back as I can remember, has been speaking to groups of people. Even the thought makes my palms sweaty.

It’s strange, because I have absolutely no problem talking one-on-one with anyone. It could be the president and it’s no big whoop to me. But start adding people to the mix and I become a mess.

Which creates a problem because so much of life is lived talking to groups of people.

I’ve hidden this secret well. You might say, “But Ken, you were a DJ on the radio, talking to thousands of listeners for ten years.” Yes. But it was just me in a room with a microphone.

You might say, “But Ken, you’ve led hundreds, maybe even thousands of meetings over your career.” Yes. But most were conference calls with just me in an office with a speakerphone.

Years ago, I joined a Toastmaster’s public speaking group. It really helped! It taught me how to speak off the cuff and how to deal with my fear. It gave me confidence, but it wasn’t a cure.

The first time I became aware of my fear of speaking to groups was at my first job after college. My manager at the time picked up on my secret weakness and put me in charge of leading a new hire training class. It wasn’t the end of the world. I got through it. But no, it didn’t make me better.

Side note: If you’re a manager, please don’t do that. Identify your people’s strengths. Help them get even better at those things and delegate their weaknesses to somebody else. Everybody wins.

It wasn’t until this week when I had to once again face my fear, after wresting with this all too familiar enemy for the last twenty years, that I realized something that I hadn’t thought of before.

Even though I have this fear, I’ve still acted in spite of it.

I’ve led teams since high school. I’ve led board meetings with very senior people. I’ve presented ideas in front of groups as large as three hundred people. I didn’t love it. (I hated it.) But I did it.

For years, I’ve beat myself up for being so terribly afraid of talking to groups of people instead of acknowledging that every time I’ve had to do it, I’ve faced my fear and never backed down.

Isn’t that the very definition of courage?

Courage doesn’t deny the existence of fear. It doesn’t dismiss those feelings. It acknowledges them yet urges us to act, anyway. Just because you feel afraid doesn’t mean you have to be afraid.

You don’t have to be a superhero to be courageous. Whenever you acknowledge your very real feelings and the existence of whatever it is that you fear and you act anyway, you are courageous.

And that makes you kind of a superhero. You might not be able to fly or have super-speed or super-hearing or leap tall buildings in a single bound, but you do have a superpower: It’s courage.

Stop focusing on your weakness, that thing you fear the most. Know that when you decide to face that fear head on, you become a hero. And the very moment you get through it, you become super.

As a kid, I had a lot of those choose-your-own adventure books that were popular in the mid 80s. After dark, I’d find a flashlight, crawl under the covers, and steel myself to begin a new adventure.

But before I’d start the story, I’d quickly review the warning message on the first page. Here’s how it read: “WARNING!!!! Do not read this book straight from beginning to end. The adventures you take are a result of the choices that you make. Remember, you cannot go back. Think carefully before you make a move! One mistake can be your last… or it may lead you to fame and fortune!”

I’d feel my heart start to race. My palms became sweaty. I considered the fame and fortune that awaited me, yet I cautiously turned the page with the single goal of not wanting to die on page one.

In no time, I’d get to a decision point at the bottom of the page, presenting me with two options. It would read something like, “If you want to search the old abandoned house, turn to page 12. If you want to search around the lake, turn to page 17.” I’d stare at the decision, frozen, trying to weigh the pros and cons of either choice with the knowledge and experience of an eight-year-old boy.

Ultimately, I’d end up falling through a trap door and stuck inside that creepy old abandoned house or I’d find myself on a raft, realizing it wasn’t a lake, but a river, and I was headed for a waterfall.

Over thirty years later, I still tend to see important choices that I have to make through the eyes of that kid staring at a decision point on the page. I’ll weigh the pros and cons of my two choices. If it’s a big decision, I’ll imagine what life will be like a year, two years, five years down the road based on whichever option I choose. I’ll pick Missy’s brain for sage advice. And of course, I’ll pray.

It wasn’t until recently that I found an old choose-your-own-adventure book. I dusted off the cover, opened it up, and stared at that dreaded warning message that used to cause me so much grief.

As I read, my heart started racing and my palms became sweaty, but I stopped and did a double-take when I realized there was actually more to that warning message on the first page that I overlooked as a kid. This was the rest of it: “YOU and YOU ALONE are in charge of what happens in this story. You must use your numerous talents and much of your enormous intelligence. There are dangers, choices, adventures and consequences. But, don’t despair. When you reach the end, YOU can go back and make another choice, alter the path of your story, and change its result.”

I had never read those last sentences as a kid. I knew it was just a book and I could go back and change things for the better if I wanted to. I just didn’t think it was following the rules if I did.

As adults, we know that life is just one big choose-your-own adventure story, yet we believe the lie that we can’t go back and make another choice to alter the path of our story and change its result.

Instead, we make decisions based on future expectations that may or may not ever happen instead of choosing the best choice for us right now, today, in this moment and season of our lives.

If you’re at a crossroads, use your enormous intelligence, say a little prayer, and make a choice.

And if your current path led you astray, don’t despair. Go back. Make another choice, one where you’ll use your numerous talents for good. It’s not too late to alter your story and change its result.

“You’re my new favorite writer.”
“This author will be a bestseller.”
“An author of imagination that rivals the best.”
“Spellbinding from start to finish.”
“Stands with the elite.”
“I stayed up all night reading…couldn’t put it down.”

Those are some of the emails and Amazon reviews that I received this week for my novel, The Senator. I know it’s a total #HumbleBrag sharing this with you. I have a good reason for sharing it.

But I want to tell you up front that the last nonfiction book that I wrote, The 4-Minute Morning, is free today. Click here to download it to your Kindle. Now let me tell you why you should read it.

Writing something worth reading doesn’t happen by accident. It takes hard work. It requires a lot of reading, a lot of studying of the craft of storytelling, and of course a lot of practice writing.

But the most important thing needed is your time.

Two and a half years ago, I desperately needed more time to myself to work on my dreams. Ten to midnight just wasn’t cutting it. I was too tired. I was too sleepy. I couldn’t get anything done.

So I had an idea. Instead of using the leftovers of my day to work on my dreams, what if I put myself first? What could happen if I went to bed at ten and woke up at five? I wanted to find out.

The first day, I did it. I woke up at five. Fifteen minutes later, I was asleep on the couch. I had failed. But out of that failure, I came up with an idea to trick myself into waking up earlier.

I called it my 4-Minute Morning. Every day for thirty days I would wake up four minutes earlier… 6:56 on day one… 6:52 on day two… by thirty days, I would be waking up at five in the morning.

The trick worked. By July 2014, I was waking up every day at five in the morning. Ten books, 400,000 written words, and 50,000 Kindle downloads later, I haven’t stopped waking up early.

It’s hard to believe that waking up early to write creates something readers stay up late to read.

But maybe it shouldn’t be. Maybe if we could find the time to work on the things we love, we could all create something to share with the world. But we can’t ever find time, we can only make time.

If you have a dream in your heart, you have a responsibility to do something about it. It’s not going to happen to you. You have to happen to it. Maybe waking up a little earlier is the answer.

So download the book. Read a chapter a day for thirty days. I’ll show you not only how to wake up earlier, but how to find and work on your hidden passion so you can make a dent in the world.