Ken Fite

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.

When I wanted to join the band, I was told I wasn’t qualified to play the trumpet. But I did it anyway.

When I wanted to be a DJ on the radio, I was told I didn’t have a radio voice. But I did it anyway.

When I wanted to try stand-up, I was told I wasn’t funny enough to go on stage. But I did it anyway.

When I wanted an MBA, I was told I wouldn’t be accepted into the program. But I did it anyway.

When I wanted to change careers, I was told I didn’t have the experience. But I did it anyway.

When I wanted to start a coffee business, I was told I’d never be successful. But I did it anyway.

When I wanted to write a novel, I was told I wasn’t creative enough. But I did it anyway.

Who told me I was unqualified? I did.

And who told me to do it anyway? I did.

There will always be someone better, more articulate, funnier, smarter, experienced, entrepreneurial, and more creative than you.

Do it anyway.

New Year’s Eve is my wife’s birthday, which always makes the day extra special around the Fite house. But I didn’t spend last New Year’s Eve celebrating with her or with family or with friends.

I spent it in a hospital, sitting next to my dad, watching the Alabama game and giving him the play-by-play as his favorite team beat Michigan State and headed to the national championship.

After the game, I stood at the window and watched the fireworks from the eighth floor of Florida Hospital. After a while, I glanced at the clock and saw that it was fifteen minutes until midnight.

I’ve never really been a big fan of New Year’s resolutions. They seem to last for a little while. Eventually, most of us fall back into our old habits and ways of doing things and living life.

Still, I wanted to be a better husband, father, and son. But I wasn’t sure what that would even look like. I knew I’d eventually fail at all three, probably before the weekend was even over.

So I sat down, turned the TV off, and listened to the beeps and whirs of hospital equipment while fireworks popped in the distance behind me. I watched the clock strike midnight. I felt broken.

And that’s when I realized that there was a resolution I could make, one within my control.

We’re all broken in one way or another. Some of us just hold the pieces together better.

But a funny thing happens when you let go: you find yourself with a set of hands free from the past and able to reach for and hold onto something new, something completely different and exciting.

The sad part about New Year’s resolutions is that only eight percent of us will keep them. What’s sadder is that the other ninety-two are still holding onto the very things that are holding them back.

I made a decision that night, one that I’ll be reaffirming again tonight, and one that I hope you’ll consider making with me as well. And that’s to make peace with your broken pieces.

Let go of the shards of a broken past that you’re still holding onto. Make peace with the pain by forgiving someone that doesn’t deserve your forgiveness. And be honest about who you really are.

Because if you know your weaknesses, you can be strong. If you know your flaws, you can be beautiful. If you learn from your mistakes, you can be wise. And when you realize that you’re the one holding yourself back from being a better version of yourself, you can simply just let go.

If 2016 left you broken, good. Because until you are broken, you don’t know what you’re made of.

I only have one good picture of my dad from last Christmas. I would have had more, but last year I wrote a post about how the best present you can give someone on Christmas is your presence.

I hate it when I write myself into a corner like that. Not wanting to be a hypocrite, I left my phone in my pocket most of the night when my family and I went to my parent’s house for Christmas dinner.

And I’m glad I did. Because 72 hours later, he was in the hospital. A week after that, he was gone.

I’ve felt bad for a long time, because there were so many gifts I could have given him that last Christmas together. He really wanted a prepaid cell phone. I went to three stores, they were sold out. He loved pistachios. I should have bought him a years’ supply. I should have, but I didn’t. “If only I had known it would be his last Christmas,” I’ve told myself a thousand times this last year.

Yesterday, I decided to look through my saved emails and read the notes my dad sent me over the years. Many of the emails he sent were “forwards” with corny jokes I’ve read a million times before.

But the most emails he sent by far were him asking when I was coming over again and bringing my two boys with me. It’s what he looked forward to. It’s what he wanted more than anything else.

Especially on Christmas.

So this morning, after being reminded about what really mattered to my dad, I felt differently about that one picture from last Christmas and not finding the right gifts I should have given him last year.

Because we talked with him. We laughed with him. My boys climbed all over him and played with him. We listened to his best stories for the millionth time, but without any distractions this time.

And most importantly, we were there. And we were there. All of us.

It’s the one gift he really wanted. The one gift we all have to give that a store can’t run out of.

Your presence is the best gift you can give someone this Christmas.

Well, I’m plugging away at novel #3. I have a title, a location, and a really good plot. Every day, it seems, I get an email asking when the next Blake Jordan will be ready. I’m writing as fast as I can!

Okay, that’s not true. I could write faster. I’m on chapter 20 of a planned 60, so I’m about a third of the way there. I guess I’m taking my time because I really want this book to be the best one yet. My trusty laptop is whizzing and whirring and making all kinds of noises. If she can just make it another 40 chapters, we’ll be okay. This week I figured out the last piece I needed to work out for the evil plot to make sense. My bad guy is really bad. And I found the perfect location in New York City for the showdown between him and Blake to take place. I’m really excited to write this thing!

One of the themes I’m exploring in this novel is how bad decisions tend to come back to haunt us. And in character development, the hero usually makes pretty bad decisions, at least at first.

The example I keep thinking about as I write the next-in-series is Peter Parker in the Spider-Man movie. If I asked you when Peter becomes the webbed wonder, the precise moment, I think you’d tell me that it was when he was bit by the spider. I don’t think that’s true. I think Peter became who he was supposed to be the moment he stood over his dying uncle and realized that he had the chance to use his newfound abilities to catch the criminal who killed Uncle Ben, and he decided to try and right that wrong (watch it here). Only after Peter catches the guy that shot his uncle does he realize that it’s the same criminal he let get away minutes before, after making the bad decision to not help the bookie who stiffed him while he was being robbed (watch the realization here).

Those moments in our lives when we realize we’ve made a bad decision, they’re pivot points.

They’re moments that really do define us, one way or the other. The sad part is, most of us let these moments go to waste. We live with regret. We lose our confidence. We enter a downward spiral and the bad decisions that we make (and we all make them) continue to come back and haunt us, making us question our own abilities even more like a vicious cycle that we can’t escape.

Maybe that’s why I like the Peter Parker story so much. It shows us that our past actually does define us, but even if our past stems from bad decisions, we can use it for good if we want to.

That decision, if you choose to make it, becomes another pivot point in your story.

One of the best parts of writing a novel is creating a pivot point in each chapter where a character has to make a decision. Then the following chapters show the consequences of those good or bad decisions. And in the first half of any good book, the decisions are usually bad. It’s fun to write, because it’s like the choose-your-own-adventure books we read as kids, only there’s just one path: the one the author chooses to take the reader down. The path Blake will decide to take is a path to redemption. He’ll do the right thing in the end, though it probably won’t be what you think it’ll be.

Because our past does define us, in a way. But just like my hero Blake will need to figure out by the end of the story, who we were, who we are, and who we will be are three different people.

Gotta get back to working on chapter 20 now. Ol’ Bessy’s whizzing and whirring a lot louder now and I’m not sure how much longer she’ll put up with me (I just named her that). See you next week!