Table Of ContentThe Art of Unpredictability
Will Collette
The Art of Unpredictability
Copyright © 2017 by Will Collette. All rights reserved.
This book or any part thereof may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means without
permission in writing from the author.
Content by Eric Thomas reprinted with permission.
“A Head Full of Dreams” written by Chris Martin, Guy Berryman, Johnny Buckland, Mikkel Eriksen, Tor
Hermansen, Will Champion. Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC.
“I Need Your Love” written by Ellie Goulding and Adam Wiles. Lyrics © Peermusic Publishing,
Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, and Universal Music Publishing Group.
“Heroes” written by Alessandro Lindblad, Brian Eno, David Bowie, Tove Ebba Elsa Nilsson. Lyrics ©
Universal Music Publishing Group, Tintoretto Music.
“Don’t Let Me Down” written by Andrew Taggart, Scott Harris, and Emily Schwartz. Lyrics © Sony/ATV
Music Publishing LLC, Peermusic Publishing, and Imagem Music Inc.
“Roses” written by Andrew Taggart and Elizabeth Mancel. Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC and
Peermusic Publishing.
“A Thousand Miles” written by Vanessa Carlton. Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group.
“Highway to Hell” written by Ronald Belford Scott, Angus McKinnon Young, and Malcolm Mitchell
Young. Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group, Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, BMG Rights
Management US LLC, Warner/Chappell Music, Inc.
“Roar” written by Bonnie Leigh McKee, Max Martin, Lukasz Gottwald, Katy Perry, and Henry Walter.
Lyrics © Kobalt Music Publishing LTD, Warner Chappell Music Inc., and Cypmp.
“The Way” written by Al Lambert, Amber Streeter, Brenda Russell, Douglas Gibson, Gerry Thomas,
Harmony Samuels, Harry Jensen, James Castor, Jordin Sparks, Langdon Jr Fridie, Malcolm McCormick,
Robert Manigault and performed by Ariana Grande. Lyrics © Kobalt Music Publishing LTD, Peermusic
Publishing, Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, and Universal Music Publishing Group.
“Hallelujah” written by Leonard Cohen. Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC.
® ®
All scriptures taken from the Holy Bible, New International Version , NIV Copyright ©1973, 1978, 1984.
All rights reserved worldwide.
Cover design: Shivam Kashiwala
All[CR1] photos © Will Collette except where noted. All photos used with permission.
ISBN 978-1544110158 (paperback)
Printed by CreateSpace
17 18 0 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1
This book is dedicated to the one person
who will treat this like a bestseller
even if it completely fails:
I love you, Mom.
Contents[CR2]
Foreword vi Preface vii Chapter 1: Let’s Go to
Hawaii 1
Chapter 2: The Crucible 15
Chapter 3: That’s My Son 26
Chapter 4: Born in the UK 32
Chapter 5: Just Get In 42
Chapter 6: What You Can Buy with $2 55
Chapter 7: “Say You’ll Never Let Me Go” 67
Chapter 8: I’d Walk a Thousand Miles 78
Chapter 9: Swipe Right 89
Chapter 10: That Thin Blue Line 94
Chapter 11: Dolphins Are Better Than Sleep 103
Chapter 12: On My Honor 114
Chapter 13: WAKE UP! 121
Chapter 14: Thanks for Being My Friend 129
Chapter 15: By Chance 137
Chapter 16: The Four Kinds of Miracles 149
Chapter 17: What Are You Drinking? 164
Chapter 18: Favorite Kind of Will? Free Will. 172
Chapter 19: The Final Paiges 182
Epilogue 192
Foreword
“Is this guy for real?” is what I hear a lot when people are talking about my son,
Will. I can relate, because it was my first thought minutes after he was born. He
didn’t cry! I thought all babies cried when they arrived to let you know they were
alive and okay. Will kept looking around at everything and remained silently
observant. That’s when I knew he was going to be different. His story doesn’t begin
there, though.
It started with a bad dream my mom had where she thought she
might lose one of her daughters. Mom was only fifty-two, and the thought of losing
a child saddened her so much that she decided she would rather give her life than
have this dream come true. Weeks later, I started to have symptoms of cancer and
needed to run tests. At the same time, my mom went to see her doctor for a simple
exam. It was at this cross of events where something miraculous happened. By the
week’s end, I would find out that my mom had only one month to live, and that all
my symptoms would cease without any intervention. It was overwhelming to think
about the possibility that my mom’s wishes were coming true.
This is where Will’s story starts. In the middle of the chaos, I started
getting sick and thought it was because I was losing my mom. My husband was
overseas with the Army, and I had seen him only once in the past month. Creating a
child at this time would be mastering the art of unpredictability, to say the least! I
went from one day in Germany, to one week under anesthesia to test for cancer, to
one more week later to test for pregnancy. Soon enough, Will was “for real”!
If that wasn’t enough, I remember the night I sat next to my mom, holding
her hand as she laid in the hospital bed. I was going to tell her that I was pregnant,
but before I could utter the announcement, she took her last breath. I like to think
she was passing into heaven as God was asking, “Is there a soul out there that I can
send right now, who will not be afraid to make a real difference in the world?”
And Will said, “Hell, yeah!”
Preface
What could a book titled The Art of Unpredictability be about? This is probably
why you’re skimming through the preface: to decide if this is worth the time, or
if it will end up on a bookshelf to collect dust.
I believe most people steer toward structure and aim to control their
life when they really should let go and just say “yes” more often. You see, we
all need an equal balance of routine and surprise in our lives. Predictability and
unpredictability. Each person’s balance is different. Some people value more
chaos, and others value more structure. Where that line is drawn is up to you.
This book highlights the unpredictable side. That guy who has excuses all the
time? Like, “I don’t have enough money.” “There isn’t enough time.” Or, “I’m
too tired.” Well, guess what? You don’t always need money. There’s always
time if you make it. And you can sleep when you’re dead. I used to be that guy
with the excuses. Until one day, everything changed.
After a single defining moment in college, my life spun into a storm of
chaos and dangerous adventures. In the past five years, I filled my undergraduate
career with trips around the country, delivered a TED Talk on authenticity,
started a production company in Hollywood, and joined the United States Air
Force as a commissioned officer. Along the journey, I’ve collected the best
moments to reveal how you can develop a unique personality trait—being
completely unpredictable.
I hope that as you venture through each chapter’s stories, you’ll be more
inspired to take on each day as if it were a videogame . You get to create your
own rules, the boundaries are limited only by your creativity, and the best part is
that anything is possible.
I know. You’ve heard that before. But how many people do you know who
actively prove it?
Chapter 1: Let’s Go to Hawaii
“What would you do if you knew you could not fail?” —Robert Schuller
What are you doing tomorrow? A text flashed across my phone screen. It was
Rob Jones.
Probably nothing, why? I replied to his text. I was relaxing at home on
summer break.
Come to Hawaii.
For anyone other than Rob Jones (and yes, it’s always his full name . . .
sounds like he should be president or something, right?), this request would have
sounded insane. Rob Jones and I met in 2007 during my freshman year at East
Chapel Hill High School, and he’s always been up for a spontaneous adventure.
We ended up being roommates at the University of North Carolina, and we both
moved across the country to California after graduation.
I can’t just go to Hawaii, I have . . . stuff.
The next morning at 4:00 a.m., I found myself sitting on an airplane on
the first flight out to Honolulu. This was the beginning of a three-day adventure
across the exotic island of Oahu.
Rob Jones had already been there for a few weeks doing volunteer work
with a nonprofit, so I texted him and asked where he was staying. He mentioned
that he had a connection with someone on Ohai Street—but no specific address.
Broad details and no concrete plan: this was typical for Rob Jones but frustrating
to someone like me, who was raised by a retired Army major for a father and
taught that everything should have a well thought out plan .
I landed, grabbed my backpack, and asked the front desk how to get to
Ohai Street. The two airport employees looked at each other, frowned, and
said, “You don’t want to go there. You must have the wrong address.”
Ironically, Rob Jones showed me how to use Google Maps at the end
of this trip, and it would prove to be indispensable during future adventures. If
I’d had it when I arrived at the airport, I would have known why the employees
were convinced I got the address wrong. What Rob Jones never mentioned was
that he had a place reserved in the most gang-and drug-active location in the
state. It’s good that I blended in as a 6’2” skinny white boy.
For now, I followed the airport employees’ directions, which they
reluctantly gave me after their warning. I took a bus across town and arrived at
a hot and humid apartment building filled with about sixty other kids my age
who were as eager to explore the surrounding area as I was. They were divided
into rooms of four, with clothes and bags scattered across the floors. The
apartment complex, owned by the nonprofit, was just a few miles down the
street from Pearl Harbor.
“Hey, man, glad you made it. Really quick, try some of this coconut
water I have,” Rob Jones insisted, handing the can to me.
“Um, okay.” I took a sip. Purely disgusting. “This tastes great!” I lied,
handing the water back over.
“We should go climb a mountain tomorrow and watch the sunrise.” Rob
Jones is notorious for starting conversations with overwhelming ideas. But I was
used to it by now.
“I’m in.”
That night, I slept for a whopping two hours before Rob Jones woke me
up with his goofy enthusiasm.
“Shhhhh,” he whispered, nudging me awake. “Let’s go!”
I fumbled for my phone and checked the time. “Bro, it’s 2:00 a.m. Why
now?”
“It’s a while away. We have to go now. Grab your GoPro and follow
me.”
Carrying only my GoPro and a water bottle, I followed Rob Jones out of
the room and walked down to the parking lot. A car immediately pulled up, and
seated inside were two guys Rob Jones already knew as part of the volunteer
program. I wasn’t aware of the plan or anyone involved—I just trusted Rob
Jones. However, based on how rough of shape the car was in, I wasn’t sure we
would make it out of the parking lot.
“Whose car is this?” I asked the driver as we were getting in, wanting to
find out if we could depend on this ride.
“We just borrowed it from a friend,” he said.
We were off to a brilliant start.
We drove straight to a 7-Eleven to get fuel. Rob Jones walked inside the
convenience store while I sat in the back of the car and our driver pumped gas.
Suddenly, someone stepped out of the shadows behind the convenience store and
started to approach us.
“Hey, where the hell is my money?” the man shouted angrily at our
driver.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” our driver replied, looking
confused but sounding as concerned as an uninterested girl at a bar.
I tried to get Rob Jones’s attention as he was purchasing more coconut
water from the cashier. The angry man was now right beside the car, still yelling
phrases at our driver that made little sense. I finally made eye contact with Rob
Jones with a terrified look on my face and tried to wave him over so we could
leave. But he just waved back, smiled like a moron, and continued to chat with
the sales clerk. Because the car was a piece of junk, the back doors locked from
the outside. I was trapped.
At this point, the angry man placed his hands on his waist. He lifted his
shirt just enough for me to see a concealed Beretta M9 tucked into his pants.
Now I knew our lives were in danger, especially since our driver had no idea
what this guy was talking about, couldn’t see the weapon, and was responding in
a half-sarcastic tone .
“I want to know when you’re going to get me my money!” the man
yelled.
“I’m sure we’ll figure it out at some point, bro,” our driver apathetically
responded.
“I’m tired of waiting!” the man kept yelling.
