The Call to Authorship

We live in an age of swipes, scrolls and soundbites, where attention is fragmented and surface-level engagement is the norm. In such a world, choosing to sit down and write is a bold decision.

Writing a book is an act of meaning-making. It’s how we wrestle with ideas, make sense of experience, and speak into the noise with words that are more considered and enduring. It takes courage to believe your words might matter. It takes character to see them through and shape them into a book.

That journey often begins with a spark. Maybe you’ve been through something, built something, learned something—and now you feel the quiet tug: This should be a book.

But with that tug often comes hesitation: Who am I to write this? Will anyone care? I’ve heard those doubts from countless aspiring authors through my work at Tellwell, where we’ve helped thousands turn that first spark into a finished book. And I’ve watched them write anyway. What followed was often extraordinary.

For Cindy Cherry, that moment came unexpectedly. For years she resisted writing a book about her father, Don Cherry, the outspoken hockey commentator who became a household name in Canada. She feared a memoir about her dad might seem biased, or worse, opportunistic. But everything changed when a Google Alert lit up her phone screen: a news organization was praising the Western Hockey League for cutting ties with Don following what she calls “Poppygate,” and for erasing his name from an organ-donation campaign he had helped champion, raising nearly half a million dollars. This cause was close to the heart for Cindy. As a teenager she had donated one of her kidneys to her younger brother.

She realized that the public narrative was being written in a way that dishonoured the man she knew and loved. “I decided I’d had enough,” she wrote.[1] Motivated by love and a deep desire to set the record straight, she penned The Don Cherry Story, not only as a sports biography, but as an intimate portrait of a complex, principled, and often misunderstood man.

Some authors write to reclaim their stories, and sometimes their faith. In Xwist Memin Kin (I Want to Go Home): Memories of Kamloops Residential School and Joeyaska Ranch,[2] Mary Jane Joe reflects on twelve years at the school, part of a system that stripped Indigenous children of their language, culture, and family connection. The religion practiced there emphasized obedience over compassion, rules over relationships. But Mary Jane did not reject faith altogether. Instead, guided by the quiet strength of her mother and grandmother, she came to embrace a more personal Christianity, one rooted in prayer, scripture, and a direct relationship with God.

In her follow-up memoir, Returning to the Highest Chief: Life after Residential School,[3] she shares her journey of becoming a born-again Christian while honouring and preserving her NłeɁkepmx traditions, language, and teachings, even those she had to reclaim later in life. Her story is a powerful reminder that the paths to healing are many, and that faith can be both inherited and chosen.

Others write to survive their stories. When Philip Lako began writing what became The Ten-Year-Old Man: Unwavering Resilience to Self-Restoration,[4] he didn’t have an audience in mind, and it became a private journey to understand his own story. A former child refugee from South Sudan, Philip was taken from his family at the age of 10. They were told he was being taken for schooling, but they turned him into a child soldier in a bloody civil war. Now residing in Australia, writing was a cathartic act for Philip, a way to process trauma, grief, and loss. As the pages filled, something in him shifted and his book became a bridge to broader conversations about refugees, hope, and healing. It launched him into a new role as a speaker, advocate, and educator.

Writing has the power to transform the author as much as the reader.

After battling breast cancer, Kaya Usher experienced a spiritual awakening. Her near-death experience reshaped her understanding of life, energy, and healing. Later, when her husband Gord Downie, beloved frontman of Canada’s house band The Tragically Hip, was diagnosed with terminal cancer, Kaya drew on that transformation to care for him in his final days. Encouraged by friends, clients, and Gord himself, Kaya began to share her learnings. She began to write, describing seeing beyond the physical space.[5] What began as a personal health crisis and healing journey became The Simplicity Platform,[6] a book that supports her mission in life, together with her online community and coaching work.

Other journeys start with curiosity that becomes conviction.

Jan Simon, a finance professor at Simon Fraser University, first encountered “search funds”—vehicles that help entrepreneurs buy and run small businesses rather than start from scratch—while comparing notes with a colleague. At first he was skeptical: who would back a first-time operator, often a recent MBA graduate, to take over a company? But deeper research into the industry revealed a thriving community built on mentorship, stewardship, and long-term value creation. That discovery led to Jan’s book, Search Funds & Entrepreneurial Acquisitions: The Roadmap for Buying a Business and Leading it to the Next Level,[7] a practical, research-based roadmap now used in business schools and boardrooms. It helps future leaders understand not only how to acquire a business, but how to lead it well.

Sometimes a story demands to be told because time is running out.

Richard K. Lowy, a Canadian filmmaker and event director, helped his father, Leo—a Holocaust survivor who was part of Josef Mengele’s experimentation on twins at Auschwitz—revisit and record memories he had long buried. Leo’s unexpected reunion with a fellow Auschwitz survivor, Kalman Bar-On, led Richard to a deeper investigation through many interviews, weaving together a powerful testimony of friendship, horror, and humanity. The result was Kalman and Leopold: Surviving Mengele’s Auschwitz,[8] a book that preserves voices and truths that history must not forget.

And some books are written as a gift to the next generation. Lamar Jackson, star quarterback and two-time NFL MVP, wrote I Dream, You Dream, Let Us Dream![9] to encourage young readers to use their imaginations boldly and believe in their potential. Whether imagining themselves as teachers, doctors, writers, astronauts, or athletes, Lamar reminds his readership that their futures are wide open. His message is simple but profound: Imagination is the starting place for every great achievement, and with faith, hard work, and persistence, dreams can become reality.

These are just seven of the thousands of authors we’ve had the privilege of working with at Tellwell: Cindy, Mary, Philip, Kaya, Jan, Richard, and Lamar—seven different stories, seven unique calls to authorship.

Set Your Intention

Every author has a why.

Through years of working with our many authors, we’ve noticed that most writers—whether they know it or not—are driven by one or more of three core motivations.

Some write to give, to serve others. To share hard-won lessons and pass along meaning that might ease another’s path.

Some write to build, to grow their influence, platform, or business. To open doors. They seek to leave a significant footprint, using their book as a tool in a larger strategy.

And some write to become, to heal, to understand, to transform themselves through the act of creation.

Give. Build. Become.

No one motivation is better than the others. Most authors employ a blend of all three, but one will usually be given more weight. Cindy’s story of protecting her father’s legacy is driven by the idea of giving. Mary Jane’s memoir of surviving the residential school system is a powerful example of becoming through reclaiming her voice, and giving by preserving history. When Philip came to terms with being taken as a child and detailed his shift into advocacy, he was relating a journey of becoming, then building on that as a public speaker. Jan’s book is a service that helps others become entrepreneurs. Kaya’s exploration of simplicity was initially rooted in becoming, which helped her build a community platform to serve others. Richard’s preservation of memory is giving at its purest. And Lamar’s story of dreaming big is a way of giving to his community by inspiring the next generation.

Understanding your primary why is powerful. It anchors your project in what means the most to you. It fuels you through long nights of doubt and revision. It sharpens your decisions about what to write, who to write for, and how to bring your book to life.

Your why doesn’t have to be perfect, or even final. But knowing it—or at least reaching for it—will make all the difference.

A Meaningful Act in a Distracted World

There’s a quiet truth about writing a book: you’re not alone in wanting to.

Studies claim that most people believe they have a book in them, yet fewer than 10 percent ever start writing, and a fraction of that ever finish a manuscript.[10] The dream is common, but follow-through is exceptionally rare.

This isn’t surprising; writing a book is intimidating. It asks a lot of you: time, discipline, vulnerability. It demands that you take ideas that live in your heart or head and send them out into the world. Would-be authors worry: What if I’m not a good enough writer? Who would care? What if I start and don’t finish?

But if you’re reading this, something in you already knows better. You sense, however faintly, that your voice matters, that your experiences, expertise, questions, and truth deserve to be heard. You understand from your own appreciation of books that they matter more than vanity—they contribute.

The decision to write isn’t about ego, it’s about responsibility. It’s about stepping up: to serve, to lead, to express what only you can, becoming a better version of yourself in the process. Maybe you want to help others avoid the mistakes you’ve made. Perhaps you want to reach new clients, grow your impact, or clarify your thinking. Or you might simply be answering a persistent inner nudge.

Whatever your reason, writing a book calls you to show up fully. It will stretch you, and demand clarity. It will ask you to compose something meaningful and finish it. And it will reward you with a sense of accomplishment that few pursuits offer.

In a world where so much of our time is spent scrolling, consuming endless content, and reacting to other people’s ideas, authorship offers something different: it allows you to create, to share and connect and contribute something lasting. It’s accepting the call to authorship, not passively watching from the sidelines, that sets your potential free.

Why Now: The Publishing Revolution

Here’s the good news: There has never been a better time to become an author.

In the past the publishing industry was a fortress guarded by agents, acquisitions editors, and a handful of big traditional publishing houses and bookstore chains. You needed permission—an agent’s backing, a scarce book deal, a large company’s stamp of approval—to put your ideas into the world. Getting a book published felt as rare as winning the lottery.

Today publishing has changed….

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[1] Cherry, Cindy. The Don Cherry Story. Victoria, BC: Tellwell Talent, 2025.

[2] Joe, Mary Jane. Xwist Memin Kin “I Want to Go Home”: Memories of Kamloops Residential School and Joeyaska Ranch. Victoria, BC: Tellwell Talent, 2021.

[3] Joe, Mary Jane. Returning to the Highest Chief: Life after Residential School (Book 2). Victoria, BC: Tellwell Talent, 2025.

[4] Lako, Philip. The Ten-Year-Old Man. Victoria, BC: Tellwell Talent, 2025.

[5] The Holi Life, “Episode 186: Simplicity, Frequency, Life Shifts and Fine‑Tuning with Kaya Usher,” podcast audio, 1:24:16, March 15, 2025, accessed July 22, 2025.

[6] Usher, Kaya. The Simplicity Platform: Harness the Power of Frequencies to Shift Your Life. Victoria, BC: Tellwell Talent, 2022.

[7] Simon, Jan. Search Funds & Entrepreneurial Acquisitions: The Roadmap for Buying a Business and Leading it to the Next Level. Victoria, BC: Tellwell Talent, 2021.

[8] Lowy, Richard K., as told by Kalman and Leopold. Kalman & Leopold: Surviving Mengele’s Auschwitz. Victoria, BC: Tellwell Talent, 2025.

[9] Jackson, L. I Dream, You Dream, Let Us Dream!. Victoria, BC: Tellwell Talent, 2022

[10] The often-quoted stat comes from a 2002 unpublished study by the Jenkins Group, which claimed that 81 percent of Americans believe they have a book in them, but only 1–2 percent ever finish one. The study isn’t publicly available and so should be taken with a grain of salt, but the general idea holds true: Lots of people dream of writing a book but few actually do.