THIS POST CONTAINS SPOILERS FROM THE CAN’T MONSTER, SO YOU MIGHT WANT TO READ THE BOOK FIRST.
The monster in The Can’t Monster isn’t real. Will, the young boy who encountered the titular monster, realizes later in the story that the monster was all in his head. (How’s that for a spoiler?)
In a previous blog, I mentioned that the monster in my story represents the obstacles standing between an individual (or group) and his, her, or their own personal mountain. I’ll stand by that analysis, but I want to offer a corollary to it: monsters also represent excuses.
During one of my daily pre-predawn walks with Jack, our 130-pound Great Pyrenees, I recalled a conversation I had with a fellow soldier early in my Army days. This guy had tried, and failed, to become a Green Beret. He was not alone. A significant percentage of those who set out to be Green Berets, as Army Special Forces soldiers are known, do not make it through the long and often grueling assessment, selection, and qualification process. However, he had an interesting take on his own experience.
He told me that virtually everyone who washes out of Special Forces training has an excuse. That excuse almost always involves factors beyond their control. Seldom, he said, will anyone admit that they couldn’t hack it, or that it just wasn’t for them, when it’s easier to blame the cadre, the weather, their peers, an injury, or the fickle hand of fate.
By contrast, this guy offered no excuses for his failure. Instead, he moved on, made the most of his next-best alternative, and later attended Officer Candidate School. At last check, he had attained the rank of Major. He knew something about the Can’t Monster, and how an obstacle — real or imagined — can become an excuse, if you let it.
I was impressed with this fellow’s candor and maturity. It’s not that he didn’t face real obstacles, because I’m certain he did. But he did something that’s quite difficult for us humans: he owned his failure — and then he overcame it.
I should note that the process of becoming a Green Beret is so lengthy and difficult that I decided not to even attempt it, based on what I’d read about it prior to joining the Army. Fortunately, I was almost certainly a better fit for the military specialty that I ultimately selected. Still, a part of me still wonders if I could’ve made it through the course, had I possessed the guts to try.
And that’s what The Can’t Monster is about, in part: having the guts to try, and then to try again, if necessary. We all fall short of the mark at times. It’s how we deal with that failure that defines us. I have to remind myself of that on a regular basis.
Fun fact: In an earlier version of the story, I’d described Will’s father as “his Green Beret dad,” before changing it to, “his hero — his dad.”
Buy your copy today via Amazon or Barnes & Noble. FYI: the paperback measures 6.5″ square, whereas the hardcover edition is 8″ square.
The Can't Monster 