I am currently documenting the process of writing my next book. It's a behind-the-scenes look at the beautiful, messy adventure of transforming my short-form writing (emails, social media posts, random notes) into a cohesive, compelling manuscript. If you've ever wondered if you could turn your own short pieces into a full-length book, join my newsletter and learn how.
Who are you writing to?
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Reader, "Who is your reader?" This is arguably the most challenging question I pose to clients and students. It's scary to describe our reader with any level of specificity. What if we alienate someone that might actually read and like our books? What if we define our reader only to discover that no such person exists? To ward off the insidious fear that we're writing for an audience of none, we cheat with faux particulars: "My book is for anyone who wants to change the course of their lives." Brutal opinion #1: 99.99% of answers that begin with "anyone who" are unhelpful and wrong. Brutal opinion #2: if your description of what your reader wants cannot be imagined as a photograph, you don't really know your reader and will not be able to deliver what they want. Last week I encouraged you to consider what book you actually want to write. Once you're clear on that, it's time to consider who you're writing to. If you want to share your writing with others, you have to consider the people who will be receiving and reading your words. In my opinion, individuals make the best answer to this question. Consider this example from writer Jonathan Rogers, who talks about how he was able to finish his biography of Flannery O'Connor by asking himself, "What would my friend Andy need to know about her?" Sometimes the person we're writing to is a younger version of ourselves. Other times, it's a client that we guided through some gnarly times. The who doesn't really matter: what does matter is that we know what they want from our book. Andy's gift to Jonathan wasn't just a face to visualize. Rather, he represented the "want" that Jonathan knew he could provide. Therein lies the effectiveness of identifying who, exactly, you're writing to. So: who am I writing to?As I said last week, this book I'm writing is not going to be a "how to" or some other form of prescriptive nonfiction. My intended readership has a lot to do with this decision. While I'm partly writing this book for the sheer fun of it, I'm also hoping it will give prospective clients a chance to see what I'm all about. And I'd like to attract clients who understand that writing a book is an adventure, not just a process. My current client David is a fine example of this. Reflecting on his writing journey, he recently said this: What has surprised me most this week is realizing that writing this book hasn't simply been about telling my story. It's been another layer of healing for me. Writing is not a data download. (Nor is reading, for that matter.) It's chasing an idea, figuring out what you think, and playing with words until they capture some semblance of the way you see the world. At least, that's what it ought to be. My book is for people who want to believe that writing can be fun. People who want to remember and rediscover the childlike delight of writing. People who think words are a lark and who would jump at a chance to take a class like "The Art of a Good Sentence." I'm admittedly straying from the best practice I described above, but here's why: my book is a collection of short essays and reflections. Each one of them is written with a single person in mind, often a person who's on this mailing list. These writings were sparked by the times you raised questions, offered encouragements, and shared anecdotes. And truly, I think you would all vigorously agree with my statement above: writing can be fun. Ought to be fun, even. Why does the world need another book about writing? (A question I'm self-consciously asking and self-deprecatingly mocking when I tell people about this project.) Well, as I'm starting to see as I write, it's hard to preserve that belief. The world is full of writers who aren't writing because they've lost the joy, because they think they need to take it more seriously, because they're not sure how to have fun with words anymore. I want to give them a book that helps them pause and gives them hope that it doesn't have to be that way. Current progressMy outline is starting to take shape. I've identified several new "chapters" to the list. More on that ... Next week we'll look at ...The initial version of my outline. While I want to reflect on some other big picture questions, I think it's time for a practical email. Not only will this give you a more concrete look behind the scenes, but it'll drive some much-needed progress. I'm excited to share this with you! Keep your stick on the ice. Frank Ewert |
The Thrill of Writing
I am currently documenting the process of writing my next book. It's a behind-the-scenes look at the beautiful, messy adventure of transforming my short-form writing (emails, social media posts, random notes) into a cohesive, compelling manuscript. If you've ever wondered if you could turn your own short pieces into a full-length book, join my newsletter and learn how.
Reader, When my siblings and I were very young, everyone in our family was given nicknames from Winnie the Pooh. Winston was obviously granted title character status, though he was neither fat nor obsessed with hunny. Other identities were handed out based on the family hierarchy Mom as Kanga and my youngest sister as Roo, for example. However, some roles were decidedly typecast, which is how I ended up with Tigger. I was a bouncy kid, you see. Maybe even trouncy, flouncy, and pouncy. Sitting...
Reader, I've written the first chapter of my new book. It's called "Playing Hooky," and if you'd like to see how it took shape over the course of three drafts, click here. While I don't plan to share each chapter like this, I thought y'all might enjoy a behind-the-scenes peek at my writing process. Writing is messy work. But unlike bakers, painters, and potters, we don't wear the evidence of our work out in public. Other people only get to see the product after we've polished it. The Google...
Reader, As much as I love Anne Lamott, I'm ready to ditch the idea of "shitty first drafts." I have Gary Larson to thank for this epiphany. My sons like to read while they eat, and one of them left The Prehistory of The Far Sidesplayed open on the kitchen table last night. The Far Side is always wonderful, but this particular volume is one of my favorite. Larson offers a glimpse into his creative process. One section—the one Charlie had left open—contrasts finished panels with the drawings...