“What do you have this week?”

That is the loaded question I have been asked weekly by Andrew, the instructor teaching a memoir-writing class I’ve been taking in New York all summer along with about a half-dozen other writers. It has been a fabulously productive class for me, giving me structure to get done vast amounts of thinking, writing and even soul-searching I would not necessarily have accomplished on my own.

Along the way, in his delightfully British accent, Andrew would look at one of the women in the class and say, “Mum was a bit dotty, wasn’t she?” or he’d hear someone read something they’d improved upon and exclaim, “This is so gratifying!”

So, as you can imagine, when Andrew asked, “What do you have this week?” during our eighth class, I sighed a little bit, knowing it was the last time he’d ask and I’d be left to my own devices again.

Alas, my accountability was vanishing.

It took me a while to realize it, but what I had come to rely on Andrew for was the same thing my life-coaching clients get from me. I was on the other side of the accountability equation -- and it felt great. As a life coach for more than six years, I have long said that the main reason my profession exists is the accountability factor. For some people, there is nothing like the motivation of having to report to a coach to keep them on task.

Sometimes a client will start a session with a flurry of “I know I was supposed to,” or, “I know you’re going to get on my case,” or, “I still didn’t call that guy at the employment agency,” or whatever the week’s perceived failing is. Usually, this means they want me to light a fire under them. In fact, on my intake questionnaire that I give to new clients, the first question is, “What do you want to get out of coaching?” and almost always part of the answer they give is structure and accountability.

In my experience, this pretty much comes down to personality. I have been to lots of writing workshops and seminars, and I have heard it said at almost all of them that what distinguishes a writer from a published writer is sitting down and writing every day. When unpublished writers hear this, they tend either to change their writing habits or fret over the fact that they don’t write on a daily basis because it doesn’t come naturally to them. Never mind that lots of authors land a book deal based on a proposal, and then write the book on a deadline imposed by the agent and/or publisher.

The truth is, whether we’re talking about writing or any other aspect of life, not everyone works in one kind of rhythm. Some people have personalities driven by deadlines. In the big picture, they are more comfortable with ebb and flow. As a former sports writer, I had a season-by-season kind of writing life, where previews are followed by game stories and then they escalate to playoff stories, all on a daily deadline. And that’s just for fall. Basketball follows, then baseball.

Apply that to other professions. Ask a teacher if May or June isn’t a whole different vibe than September. Or a postman if he could handle a load like December’s all year long.

Whatever you do for a living, can you necessarily go at the same exact pace all year? Some can, and that means they should honor it and do things that tap into that ability. But some of us need the extra push of a deadline, a class, a coach. It’s called accountability.

“What do you have this week?”

That is music to my ears.

Nancy Colasurdo is a practicing life coach and freelance writer. Her Web site is www.nancola.com. Please direct all questions/comments to FOXGamePlan@gmail.com.