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Create Effective Dialogue by Asking the Right Questions

Photo by Korney Violin on Unsplash

Today’s post is by editor Tiffany Yates Martin (@FoxPrintEd). Join us on Wednesday, May 3, for the online class The Power of Dialogue in Fiction.

Given most of us speak an average of 16,000 words a day, it seems as if writing dialogue should be effortless and natural.

But dialogue in story isn’t like dialogue in real life, which can meander or be riddled with empty filler, circumlocutions, and verbal tics. Story dialogue is more like concentrated orange juice: It gets rid of all the extraneous material and boils down communication to its essence.

To create effective and efficient dialogue that serves the story, you’ll need to ask yourself a few basic journalistic questions: the why, when, what, how, and how much of what your characters say.

WHY are your characters speaking?

Dialogue adds wonderful immediacy to a story, but if it’s not used purposefully it can feel superfluous. It’s not an exaggeration to say that every single word your characters speak should be deliberately chosen to serve the story in some purposeful way.

Does the dialogue advance the plot or story? Are the characters—or you as the author—trying to communicate a specific idea or information? Or perhaps to conceal it—to misdirect, obfuscate, or distract?

Does the dialogue offer essential context for the characters or story, or reveal a key plot point, or further the character arc? Are the characters speaking to fill silence? Out of nerves? Out of a desperate desire to connect? To mask what they are feeling? To alleviate discomfort—their own or someone else’s? To please someone else or curry favor? Out of habit? For the sake of politeness?

Good dialogue often multitasks, serving more than one of these purposes to create layers of meaning in story.

WHEN do they speak?

When your character speaks and doesn’t speak is an effective way to convey personality and relationships, further character development, advance plot, raise stakes, manage pace, and create suspense and tension.

What does the long silence after your character is told someone loves them reveal about their situation or relationship? What do readers know about the person who whispers constant commentary to their companion during a solemn occasion like a wedding or funeral or church service? Or the one who cracks a joke at just the right moment, or at the most inappropriate time?

How does it further the story and raise stakes and suspense when a character being interrogated refuses to speak—or inadvertently blurts an incriminating piece of information just when it seemed they were in the clear? What does it convey or mean for the story if a character witnesses a wrong and fails to speak up—or does speak, risking the wrath of the wrongdoer?

What your character doesn’t say is often as important and revealing as what they do—and when they choose to speak and choose to be silent can paint a vivid picture of who they are, what they want and why.

WHAT do they say?

In life we often speak without thinking, and your characters might also, but as the author you should choose each word with deliberate purpose. How does it move them closer to their goals—or throw up an obstacle? How does it show readers who they are or what they’re feeling or thinking?

What to say will be a function of why your character is saying it—and why you as the author are having them say it. If the scene’s narrative purpose is to advance the story while showing two characters’ relationship, for instance, then your dialogue will focus on those areas, as Jonathan Tropper does in this brief opening excerpt from This Is Where I Leave You:

“Dad’s dead,” Wendy says offhandedly, like it’s happened before, like it happens every day. It can be grating, this act of hers, to be utterly unfazed at all times, even in the face of tragedy.

“He died two hours ago.”

“How’s Mom doing?”

“She’s Mom, you know? She wanted to know how much to tip the coroner.”

We get a lot of info in this excerpt just from the dialogue: that these two are siblings; that their father has just died; that the narrator’s first reaction is to worry about his mom, which indicates something of their relationship; a little bit about what their mother is like from Wendy’s comment about tipping the coroner—which may or may not be a joke, given what the narrative portion tells us is characteristic of her.

Subtext in the dialogue tells us even more: This is how the conversation starts, so we also may infer that Wendy is direct and doesn’t candy-coat anything, and that these two are in touch frequently enough and/or have a close enough relationship that there is no need for introductory pleasantries at the beginning of a call, even one like this. The narrator also seems to react rather calmly to what could be shattering news: That might indicate that Dad’s death is not entirely unexpected, or that the protagonist isn’t close to his father, or that he is a level, nonreactive person…or an unemotional one…or a tightly controlled one. We don’t know yet—this is just one piece of the puzzle that begins to come together as the scene—and the dialogue—progresses.

But the characters’ words aren’t casually chosen. Tropper is using dialogue to introduce the inciting event, several of the main characters (the narrator, Wendy, Mom, and to a degree Dad), and a bit of context on their relationship and history—plus set up the entire story premise. That’s a lot of multitasking for four lines of dialogue.

HOW do they say it?

Like everything related to character, the way a person speaks is an amalgam of countless factors in their upbringing, background, situation in life, personality, experiences, etc.

Does their verbiage reflect the regionalisms of their hometown, for instance? What does their vocabulary and word choice say about their background or socioeconomic level or education or personality? How do their reference points or language reflect their background. For instance, does a painter use artistic metaphors and references, notice more aesthetic details, speak in more flowery or descriptive language?

Do they speak quickly or slowly, and why? Do they articulate or elide their words, and what is that a function of? Are they prone to verbosity or more taciturn? Do they choose their words carefully or vomit out everything that crosses their minds? How loudly do they speak and why? What tone do they use—sarcastic, apologetic, measured and calm, brash? What verbal tics do they have and what does that say about the character?

Do they speak straightforwardly and get right to the point, or circle around it until they finally say what they mean? Do they speak forcefully and confidently, haltingly, carefully and deliberately, completely off-the-cuff and stream-of-consciousness? And how does the way they speak change depending on their situation or whom they are talking to?

Considering all these factors not only helps you create believable but effective story dialogue; it’s also the key to making sure your characters don’t all sound alike.

HOW MUCH do your characters speak?

Balancing dialogue with narrative is part of the skill of using it effectively, but there are no hard and fast rules. It’s different for every author, every character, and every story.

Dialogue is a great way to dramatize character interactions and bring the story directly to life in front of our eyes, but too much of it can start to feel overly talky, or as if we are reading a screenplay. It can also feel distancing to readers—much of human communication happens below the surface of the words, in story as in real life, and relying only on dialogue leaves readers blind to the richness of the rest of the scene and character dynamics.

But too much narrative without dialogue can also make a story feel distant. Describing everything keeps readers one step removed from the action, as if we’re hearing about it secondhand rather than living it along with the characters directly, and can bog a story down in verbiage and stall momentum.

A good rule of thumb is to think about the purpose of a scene. For instance:

Scenes meant to reveal or develop character or relationships may come to life more vividly in dialogue rather than just narrative description. Introspective “processing” scenes may benefit from more narrative exploration of the characters’ inner lives, context, or situation.Fast-paced, active scenes may move at a stronger clip if they incorporate lean, snappy dialogue amid the action (and thus create more white space on the page); slower, more reflective scenes might be better suited to narrative description.Lighter or humorous scenes generally benefit from more dialogue; serious or dark scenes might be better conveyed through more narrative.

Where you do use dialogue, asking “how much” is also a good way to avoid the risk of soliloquies. Character dialogue that goes on too long can feel preachy, info-dumpy, or just plain dull, risking reader interest. (Picture the blowhard at the party who holds court in an endless monologue, while his audience desperately looks for ways of escape.)

Strong dialogue brings your story and characters to life and draws readers intimately, immediately into the scene. Asking yourself the these questions whenever your characters speak will help you make the most of every word of this powerful element of story.

Note from Jane: If you enjoyed this post, join us on Wednesday, May 3, for the online class The Power of Dialogue in Fiction.

Describe Your Book in Two Sentences: Q&A with Ann Garvin

Today’s post is by author Laura Bird (@laura_at_the_library). Join interviewee Ann Garvin on Wednesday, April 19 for the online class Pitch Your Book in 2 Sentences.

Writing a book is one thing; marketing it is quite another.

Before my debut middle grade novel was published, people would ask me, “What’s your story about?”

I’d bumble through a response as their eyes glazed over, shinier than two Krispy Kremes. I desperately wanted to impart the heart and soul of my book to them, but all I could do was nervously stutter.

I quickly discerned that I needed to hone my marketing skills, or I’d never sell a single copy of my novel. So I called my good friend Ann Garvin, who taught me how to convey the essence of my story in a few punchy sentences.

When we do this, people actually listen, and then they go out and buy our books.

It’s the simplest thing, but also the hardest. Let’s dig in.

Laura Bird: Why is it so hard to describe a book in a couple sentences?

Ann Garvin: A writer who has finished a novel has taken a glimmer of an idea and expanded it into an entire book-length project. They’ve created multiple characters, plot lines, and scenes filled with emotion critical to the finished book. A pitch asks the writer to keep all these things in mind and craft one or two juicy sentences that entice a reader to ask for more. To do this, they must leave the role of creative writer, memoirist, or nonfiction expert and dip their toe into another profession entirely. They have to learn how to market their work. And while a good marketer tells a story, she doesn’t tell the whole story, and that’s where it can get complicated for someone who just wrote a book.

What’s the ideal length of a good pitch?

Two sentences, maybe three, if they are short. Literary agents, editors, and even loved ones are busy, and we all have short attention spans. Writers need to be able to talk about the core of their story, using the fewest, most impactful words possible—or they risk losing their audience’s valuable attention. We’re trying to hook them into asking them for more, rather than explaining everything they might miss if they don’t read our book. One is a flirtation, the other is a monologue, and I don’t know any dating sites that use the monologue system to find love.

What are the components of a good pitch?

An effective pitch will address things like: Who are the main characters? What are they doing and why? Why should I care about this story, and what’s at stake?

I have a pared-down formula that might be helpful. It looks something like this:

[protagonist] + [inciting incident] + [protagonist’s goal] + central conflict

If you start with this formula, you can work your way into a second one that fleshes it out a bit more:

When [inciting incident] happens to [protagonist], they must overcome [central conflict] to get [what protagonist wants]

But this seems to leave out almost everything! 

It feels like that, yes, but a pitch gets down to the very core of the story. It’s not a plot summary, a timeline, or an inventory. A good pitch hints at what the character in your project might need to overcome to get what they want. It allows the reader to imagine what it might take to survive and grow from a situation; this imagination is the most enticing thing. The good news is the reader brings their imagination to the meeting; you just need to spark their vision.

What mistakes do writers often make when pitching?

They try and give a complete summary of their book and end up in the weeds, or they write a review of the themes found in the book, leaving out the essence of what characters are doing on the page in order to get what they want.

What is the hardest pitch you’ve ever written?

My first book is about Maggie Finley. Devastated by the loss of a pregnancy, she has returned to her hometown newly pregnant and discovers that a sex offender lives on her street. Maggie rushes from the sublime to the ridiculous to keep her family safe, only to discover her haven is in the unlikeliest of places.

The most challenging thing about this pitch wasn’t that the story was potentially grim; rather, it was how to communicate that this story had quite a lot of humor. So you can imagine it was a very challenging pitch to write! Although I sold it, I’m still not sure I had it right.

How did you figure out the art of good pitch writing?

Each time I write a pitch, I have to work through the process—repeatedly. But I’ve been a professor since 1995, and whenever I’m faced with figuring out a new skill, I teach it. I break it down as if I’m presenting it to strangers, and in the process, I learn it myself. I’ve also spent the last decade teaching and working at pitch conferences and universities to hone my skills.

In the end, though, the writer knows her book best and has the most skin in the game. She knows what her book is about—she just needs to put it in the right words.

You’re giving a class and running a pitch contest. Why?

There are so many talented writers with compelling manuscripts who need help with the next step toward publishing. When I was a new writer, I felt like there was a fire wall between me and agents and editors. It was frustrating, and I didn’t know how to get past it. Maybe it’s the nurse in me, or the educator, but I want to open the gates for other writers to bring their dreams to reality.

Note from Jane: If you enjoyed this post, join Ann Garvin on Wednesday, April 19 for the online class Pitch Your Book in 2 Sentences.

Ask the Editor: How Do You Move Beyond the Three-Act Structure?

Photo by Andrew Neel

Ask the Editor is a column for your questions about the editing process and editors themselves. It also features first-page critiques. Want to be considered? Submit your question or submit your pages.

This month’s Ask the Editor is sponsored by Author Accelerator. Is book coaching your dream job? Take the One-Page Book Coaching Business Plan Challenge to find out what kinds of writers you would coach, how (exactly!) you will help them, and how much money you can make doing it. Sign up for our $99 mini-course that launches in May.

Question

How do you write organically and originally while sticking to Freytag’s Pyramid and the three-act structure? I’ve read Meander, Spiral, Explode by Jane Alison and Craft in the Real World by Matthew Salesses, both of which advocate moving beyond Freytag’s Pyramid and the three-act structure, but how do you do that and keep a genre story moving? (I write science fiction/fantasy for adults.)

—Trying to Escape the 3-Act Pyramid

Answer

Hello, Trying to Escape! I’m very glad for your question—the topic hits on an approach to writing that I frequently proselytize to authors.

The answer lies in your question: You say you want to write “organically and originally.” I love that—it’s the very seed of strong, singular storytelling and often the antithesis of “sticking to” a prescribed method or system, as you suggest in your question.

Trying to impose a particular mold onto your story and make it fit is writing from the outside in, rather than letting the story grow from the inside out, which I consider the more organic approach you describe.

It sounds like you may be try-curious, wanting to bust out of the strictures of a rigid approach and find your own—but perhaps a little leery that doing so will dissolve your story’s structure and cohesion?

Let me first offer a way of rethinking approach and structure for any story, not just genre fiction, and then suggest a method for organically finding what your story wants to be and how to most effectively unspool it.

Build your writing buffet

I am a big fan of craft books. Huge. I read them the same way I devour self-help, psychology, business, and (I’ll be honest) décor and style books: like popcorn—I can’t get enough.

But if I tried to slavishly dedicate myself to implementing every single system, I’d freeze up. It’s too much, and not everything I read is going to work for or resonate with me, or apply to every personal situation I face. (I’m looking at you, Marie Kondo. You take your folded underwear and get it out of my life.)

I think of all this information as a delightful smorgasbord from which to create my ideal plate. Each of them teaches me about topics I’m interested in and expands the knowledge I can draw upon in creating my preferred menu.

But to play out the metaphor way too far, I may not want the same plate for every meal. Maybe next time I decide to try some foie gras (why not? never had it) but then discreetly spit it into my napkin because it’s gross. Maybe I get a second heaping helping of something I loved—but it’s too much or I get tired of it.

We’ll stop with the gluttonous strained metaphor now, but you see the point? Think of all these craft approaches—many of which offer valuable, actionable, useful suggestions—as items in that cornucopia you can choose from at different times, with different stories. Take elements from various approaches, mix and match—find the right tool at the right time for the right job.

But how does that approach lend itself to creating a solid, cohesive story, rather than risk its riding off the rails?

Define Key Story Elements

What most craft techniques have in common is that they build from the basic form of story:

A character is invested in something or wants something; they face what stands in the way of their getting it, with varying results; and their failure or success in achieving it effects some meaningful change (in the character, their world, or both).

There’s lots of nuance and variation on that basic format, but this is what most readers anticipate from story.

Keeping those guiding principles in mind, you don’t have to unspool that story strictly to the three-act structure—or any prescribed system—as long as you hit certain key notes:

If you establish your story’s driving forces—what your characters want and why; what they stand to gain or lose from attaining or failing to attain it; and what action they take or fail to take in achieving it—you have your basic building blocks.Understand that every story needs ups and downs to hold readers’ interest: movement toward attaining those goals, and setbacks away from them. Flat lines are narrative dead space. Create those levels throughout.While there may be many smaller ups and downs, identify the major successes and major setbacks the character experiences in the journey toward their goal—their key high and low points—and then plot a course that leads your character(s) to each. What actions (or failure to act) led to that major triumph or major challenge? What turning point shifts their course toward the next high or low?Move the story forward

You ask how to make sure you keep the story moving—an excellent question, as forward momentum is essential for every engaging, compelling story. Keep in mind these guidelines for maintaining the propulsive elements of story:

Keep your character(s) urgently pursuing both their overall goal and immediate goals in service to it in every scene throughout the story. Learn more: The Secret to a Tight, Propulsive Plot: The Want, the Action, and the ShiftMake sure readers understand what your character stands to gain or lose at each step of the journey; keep stakes clear, high, and pressing throughout.Keep readers turning pages by raising questions and uncertainty throughout (suspense).Keep them engaged and uncomplacent by making sure every page carries elements of friction, opposition, conflict between your character and what they want both long-term and near-term (tension), whether great or small, internal or external, overt or subtle, direct or indirect.Let us see how your character(s) are affected, shaped, altered at each step along the path as a direct result of their actions and the consequences throughout (character arc).

This breakdown sounds overly simplistic—and it is. But these essential elements can serve as building blocks for any story, with any structure, the way that you can use LEGOs to make a house or a plane or a nine-foot-long replica of the Texas Capitol Building.

Worry less about adhering to a particular system of story structure and more about developing the essential elements of story, and it will free you to grow it organically, as you describe—and more originally.

The beauty of writing is that you have godlike freedom to do it any way you want to—to let yourself experiment, explore, and keep developing, shaping, and honing it as you see what works, and what may not be as effective in engaging readers and taking them on the journey you envisioned. And then you can try something else until you find what does. That’s editing and revision, and it’s the most magical part of writing, in my view. (In fact, I based my book Intuitive Editing on this exact idea, of finding your story organically.)

You don’t have to rigidly follow other people’s particular maps. Use them as a guide if you like: Especially if you get stuck or your story is treading water, lost in a detour, or stuck in a dead end, they can be useful tools to get you back on track and moving again.

But find your own route to your destination. You may find yourself falling off the edge of the flat Earth, or you may enter unexplored territories where there be dragons—and bring back never-before-seen wonders.

—Tiffany Yates Martin

This month’s Ask the Editor is sponsored by Author Accelerator. Is book coaching your dream job? Take the One-Page Book Coaching Business Plan Challenge to find out what kinds of writers you would coach, how (exactly!) you will help them, and how much money you can make doing it. Sign up for our $99 mini-course that launches in May.

Are You Giving Yourself Writing Credit?

Today’s post is by author, editor and coach Jessica Conoley (@jaconoley). Join us on April 27 for a class on working with beta readers.

You know when you’ve had a really good writing day and you feel all that positive energy as you wrap up your work session? When you get up from your writing time and you’re ready to slay the rest of the day? That I’ve totally got this feeling is achievement momentum.

Achievement momentum is generative energy that propels you forward. It helps tasks feel easier and goals feel more attainable. You build this positive energy every time you achieve a goal you set for yourself. It is built upon keeping promises to yourself.

You can jump start achievement momentum with one simple tweak: Give yourself credit.

You already plow through countless tasks to move your writing dreams forward: reading this blog post, brainstorming about your next project, talking through a mental block with your coach. But if you’re like 99.9% of us, that stuff doesn’t count because it isn’t immediately evident in your end product. The person who will eventually consume your work won’t see all that behind-the-scenes effort, therefore it doesn’t matter.

But is it really true that all the extraneous writing support stuff doesn’t matter? Could you create that masterpiece of an end product without all of the tangential learning?

No. You could not. You need the sum of all those experiences to create the end product that will change other people’s lives.

It’s time to stop discounting your work. It is time to acknowledge you are doing more to bring your dreams into reality than you think. It is time to tap into your achievement momentum. Here’s how to do it.

Create a “scream in your face” daily visual reminder.

One of the hard parts of working on a complex long-term project, like writing a book, is the day-to-day progress isn’t readily visible. Yes, you may have worked three hours, but hitting save on your document doesn’t scream Look how far I’ve come!

Build achievement momentum by having some fun. Let yourself play and dream up ways to reward yourself with reminders of your daily progress. A few ideas:

A sticker chart. Grab a good old-fashioned calendar and throw a sticker up every day you work on your project. This means you get to go sticker shopping, and there are SOOOO many kinds of stickers to please your eyeballs. I assure you stickers are just as rewarding as they were in kindergarten, which is why this is my personal favorite.A count-down chain. In the U.S., kids make paper chains leading up to Christmas and cut off one link of the chain every day—and as the chain shortens so does the excitement that Santa will soon arrive. Is your goal to create every day? Get to linking: three-hundred-sixty-five is the length of your chain. How many chapters do you have to revise? Places you need to research? Interviews you need to complete? That’s your number of starting links.The reverse growth chart. This one is good because it helps you visualize the absence of something, which is very hard to do. Let’s say you have 100 copies of your book you want to sell. If you stacked those books up into a massive tower, how high would it be? Lay out paper to that length, make tick marks of the appropriate size, and tack the paper onto the wall. Every time you sell a book, color in the tick mark. Watch the chart fill in until you hit your goal of zero. You could even put those books into that giant stack in front of the chart.Decide what counts.

There are big finish moments that we accept as earning ourselves credit. Most of the time this is something momentous like typing THE END on a manuscript.

But the key to jumpstarting achievement momentum is giving yourself credit for the baby steps that add up to the big finish.

This is where most of us complicate things. We immediately assign qualifications for something to count. Like I have to do all the things on my list to earn a sticker. Only certain types of writing count. Only increased word count days count. Only writing on Tuesdays under a full moon with a fountain pen on handmade parchment counts.

Qualifications set us up for failure. They condition us to believe writing has to be hard. They limit our forward progress so we can stay in our comfort zone—writing, but never showing our work to anyone.

To get clear on what counts, put yourself into brainstorming mode. The #1 rule of brainstorming mode: no value judgments allowed. Here’s an exercise.

Grab a timer and set it for 43 seconds. (Why 43? Because it’s a real nice-looking number that doesn’t easily divide and throws our brains a little off kilter. Brainstorming loves off kilter.)Grab a pen and paper, your notes app on your phone, or open a new document on your computer.Wiggle your toes. Feel every single one of them. Feel how the socks wrap around your foot. Think about all the sensations in your toes and feet until it is borderline comical. When you are more connected to your feet than you ever have been before, brainstorming has been activated.Hit start on the timer.List any and everything you can that gets you closer to your end goal.Choose at least five things from your list that you will give yourself visible credit for when you complete them.Give yourself credit. (Stick the sticker, cut the link, color in the tick mark.)

Do you have at least five things you will give yourself credit for? Have you made the tasks realistic and broad enough you are setting yourself up for success? If you did at least one of those things every day for a month, would you be closer to the vision of your ideal writing life?

If you answered yes to all of the above, you’ve found your keys to unlocking personal achievement momentum.

If you really want to make things fun, share your “scream in your face” daily visual reminder with your fans. Here’s a secret: People love to cheer you on. When you let them see that you are making progress, they feel like they are coming on this creative adventure with you. And I promise you, at least one person will see you doing the work and it will inspire them to work toward their dream. By giving yourself credit and sharing it with the world, you are giving someone else permission to be brave and live their dream.

Now go, make your “scream in your face” tracker, and if you want to share it with us here, we’d love to see it. Just leave it in the comments below.

How to Find Comp Titles Using ChatGPT

Photo by Matheus Bertelli

Today’s guest post is by John Matthew Fox (@bookfox), author of The Linchpin Writer.

Finding comp titles used to be a gigantic chore.

You’d comb through hundreds of books, trying to find just the right two to suggest in your query letter. You didn’t want books too similar, and yet obviously they couldn’t be very different either.

And most of the time, you had doubts whether you’d picked the right two.

Well, ChatGPT makes finding comp titles easier than ever.

Here are five steps to finding your ideal comp titles for your query letter or book proposal. At the end I’ll put all five steps together in a prompt that you can use for your book.

1. Tell ChatGPT to pick titles published in the last three years.

Agents aren’t looking for books published a decade ago. They certainly aren’t looking for books published twenty or thirty years ago.

That’s because when they pitch publishers, they have to include recent titles. That shows publishers there is current appetite for this type of book.

2. Tell ChatGPT to choose mid-level books (not super-famous books).

Comp titles should never be Harry Potter and Jack Reacher—I don’t care how similar your book is to them. Sure, it’s one step above “I don’t have any comp titles” but not much better.

By picking super famous books, you are communicating to the agent:

You’re lazyYou don’t read muchYou have an inflated sense of your book’s potential

Now, I know you don’t have access to sales numbers to help you choose the best possible “mid-level” book, and you can’t even ask ChatGPT for Goodreads review numbers or Amazon review numbers. But you can say: don’t include any books that have appeared on bestseller lists.

3. Tell ChatGPT to pick books in your genre.

Describe your genre to ChatGPT. Be as specific as possible. For instance, don’t just say fantasy. Say high fantasy, grimdark fantasy, or paranormal romance fantasy.

Don’t just say mystery. Say cozy mystery, gumshoe mysteries, or capers.

If you don’t have a specific, nameable genre, then try some of these words:

upmarket (between commercial and literary)literaryrealistcommercialexperimentalbook club bookyoung adultnew adultcoming of age

The more specific you get, the more likely ChatGPT will suggest books that are perfect for your comp titles.

You also need to use negative commands, for example (if appropriate):

Do not include nonfiction books.Do not include poetry.Do not include memoirs.4. Choose the number of books.

I would recommend asking ChatGPT for either 10 or 20 books.

Anything more than that and you’ll have to do too much research to try to figure out the right titles. Anything less than that and you might not end up with two winners.

Remember, all you need is a couple comp titles. One isn’t enough, and as many as three might not be necessary, at least for fiction. (Nonfiction authors, you may need more for your proposal’s competitive title section.)

5. Specify a certain place or theme or topic.

Ask ChatGPT for books set where your book is set (Montana? Thailand?).

Ask ChatGPT for books on similar themes (anxiety? immigration?).

Ask ChatGPT for books on certain topics (divorce, children with special needs).

The more specificity you can provide, the more it will be able to suggest comp titles that are right for your book.

Sample prompts for ChatGPTSuggest 10 comp titles published in the last three years for a literary novel set in New York that features drug use. Do not include any books that have appeared on bestseller lists. Do not include nonfiction books.Give me 10 comp titles for a historical romance novel set in England in the 1800s. Only include books published in the last three years. Do not include any books that have appeared on bestseller lists. Do not include nonfiction books.List 5 comp titles for an upmarket fantasy book about a home for children with magical powers. Only include books published in the last three years. Do not include any books that have appeared on bestseller lists. Do not include nonfiction books.Suggest 20 comp titles for nonfiction books about brain atrophy in the elderly. Do not include bestselling books. Do not include any novels. Do not include any books that have appeared on bestseller lists.After you get some results

It’s usually good to ask follow-up questions. So if you didn’t get what you were looking for, give ChatGPT additional questions that specify exactly what you need.

Of course you’ll need to do research on each of the suggested titles. Make sure they exist. (ChatGPT may hallucinate titles that don’t exist.) Do they really overlap with the themes in your book? Ensure they aren’t bestsellers.

In my experience, using prompts like this, ChatGPT is pretty close to the mark on the first round. But if you have a particularly challenging situation, you might need to re-prompt it for another round or two.

For old-fashioned methods of finding your comps, read this post.

How to Differentiate Between Desire and Desperation in Pursuit of Publication

Photo by Alexis Fauvet on Unsplash

Today’s post is by writer and nonfiction coach Amy Goldmacher (@Solidgoldmacher).

Is the desire to get published damaging?

As writers, we want to share our messages and our stories with others. A way of achieving that goal is through publishing. However, an unintended consequence of our drive to get published may be that our deeper internal motivations get overridden by the pursuit of the goal.

The odds aren’t good when the goods are odd

Here’s what I mean: I have been submitting a 10,000-word, 2nd-person POV flash memoir in the form of a glossary to competitions and small presses since May 2022. For context, this book is about a woman who becomes the age her father was when he died, and how she realizes the way she grew up doesn’t need to be the way she lives the rest of her life, written in alphabetical glossary entries. It is my story, but it’s also for those who, perhaps facing the downhill portion of the mortality rollercoaster, feel that some of what made us successful may no longer serve us.

Memoir is a crowded and competitive market, and my stylistic choices meant additional barriers to publication. I knew this as I wrote and revised and found the structure that served the story. But, as rejections stacked up, I started to feel more desperate. There are not limitless outlets accepting unconventional works like mine. I scoured the internet for places to submit, regardless of what they were offering, pursuing any opportunity to be picked. I started flinging submissions like spaghetti against a wall to see what would stick. As Meredith from Season 2, Episode 5 of Grey’s Anatomy begged her McDreamy, I too was desperate: pick me, choose me, love me. Does it not feel like the ultimate indication of approval to be selected above all others?

The wrong yes will break your heart worse than a rejection

Another common waypoint writers experience on the path to publication is the near-miss, when a press says you almost made the final cut. But even more painful is an acceptance that doesn’t fit.

Seven months after submitting my manuscript to a tiny lit mag chapbook competition, I got a “congratulations, you’re the winner” email. Instead of being elated—finally! My book was chosen!—I was sad. Wanting to be chosen had overridden what I really want for my book and for myself: I want this book to be printed and bound and sold so others can buy it, hold it, and read it. In my haste to submit to anywhere that might take it, I overlooked what winning a competition meant at this lit mag. In their submission guidelines they offered publication, but it was unclear to me in what form it would be published. They have only published print and online magazines to date. They also offered a small honorarium, no royalties, and there was no information about marketing or advertising support. Though I know any honorarium or royalties will not come near what I have already invested in editing, coaching, and submission fees, I want more than what was included in this particular contest’s offering.

So I declined. I feel bad for declining the award. It’s not good practice—I don’t recommend it. These outlets are run by people with the best intentions who invest much of their own time and money into offering these competitions.

As writers, we make hard decisions at many points in the process. And hard decisions sometimes don’t feel good.

Get—and stay—in touch with your why to guide your submission strategy

This experience taught me that submitting work shouldn’t be an act of desperation. I shouldn’t have submitted to this competition because I didn’t want or have a good understanding of the prize.

I’m changing up my submission strategy. It might mean that getting this book published will take longer or might never happen, but it means I’m focused on my why, and it means I might prevent my own heartache later.

My why for this book, the reason I wrote it, is to help fatherless daughters and hypervigilants realize they can let go of what no longer serves them. I want them to be able to find and read this book so they feel less alone. That is why I am seeking a place that will publish a physical book, has a track record of success with physical books, and provides author support in the form of an honorarium, marketing, royalties, and author copies.

My criteria may not be what you want or need to feel successful for your publication, but I invite you to examine your motivations for getting your work into the world and what would be most meaningful to you to receive in return: Why do you need your story to be in the world? What form does it need to take to make you feel successful? What would make you happy and validated to receive in return?

More strategy, less desperation, in pursuit of the goal.

4 Pillars of Book Marketing, or How to Sell More Books in Less Time

Photo by Ian Hutchinson on Unsplash

Today’s post is by book advertising consultant Matt Holmes (@MatthewJHolmes1).

When I first started marketing my wife’s books, I thought we needed to be everywhere and do all the things in order to be successful:

Facebook adsAmazon adsBookBub adsYouTube adsPromo sitesFacebook groupsAll other social media platformsNewspapers and magazines

The list goes on—and on. The truth of the matter though, is that you don’t need to do even half of what’s on that list.

The do all the things approach likely does more harm than good, especially in the beginning. Sure, further down the line, you can start adding to the list, but even then, don’t feel you need to.

My wife’s books currently earn a healthy six-figure income. And we use two traffic sources:

Facebook adsAmazon ads

Now three years into the journey, we are starting to explore other traffic sources so as not to rely so heavily on Facebook and Amazon. But these two platforms alone, along with a small spend on BookBub and promotional sites for launches and promotions, drive the results for us.

Royalties for my wife’s books from November 2022

In this article, I’d like to share with you how I spend 30–60 minutes each day marketing my wife’s books, and how you can do the same.

Marketing for 30–60 minutes per day came about as more of a necessity than anything else; with three children under the age of three in the house, time isn’t something either my wife or I have much of! If you currently have young children or have done so in the past, you’ll know where I’m coming from. So I had to make sure every minute I spent was on the right marketing for us.

Avoiding the shiny objects discussed in Facebook groups, i.e. the latest fads, I identified what was driving results for us and doubled down on them, eliminating everything else.

This is when I (accidentally) identified what I now call the four pillars of book marketing. And, after speaking with many authors over the past couple of years, I believe these four pillars are critical for every author.

Without them, you’ll be spinning your wheels not knowing what to work on and when, or worse, spending your resources on things that don’t move the needle.

So, here’s what you’re going to learn:

What the four pillars of book marketing areWhy 30–60 minutes per day spent marketing is all you needHow and why to craft a strategy for your author businessIdentifying your lever-moving activitiesHow to plan out your days, weeks, and months for maximum productivity and resultsThe 4 Pillars of Book Marketing

Some activities in your author business may not be exciting but are essential to keep your business going, such as accounting, taxes, replying to emails, and other admin/auxiliary tasks.

When it comes to marketing and driving book sales, there are really only four pillars that truly matter:

Book product pageTrafficAudience buildingProfitBook product page

Something I say to authors a lot is: Your book sells your book.

No amount of marketing or advertising is going to sell a poor-quality book.

You could be the best marketer in the world, but if your book itself isn’t up to scratch, isn’t up to the standard it needs to be in today’s world of publishing, it’s not going to sell.

You may be lucky and get a few sales, maybe even a few hundred sales right off the bat. But when the reviews and ratings start coming in, the performance of your marketing is going to decline over time.

This is why, yes, you need to write a stellar book. But you also need to present your book in the best possible light. And you achieve that by creating a superb book product page.

After all, sales don’t happen in your Facebook ads, BookBub ads, Amazon ads, etc. They happen on your book product page. That’s where readers make the decision to buy or not to buy your book.

The key assets of your book product page you need to focus on are:

Book coverBook descriptionPricingReviews and ratingsLook InsideA+ Content, specific to Amazon (optional)

With a compelling and engaging book product page in place, all of your marketing and advertising will perform that much better because your conversions (i.e., sales directly from your ads) will be higher.

And the more sales your ads generate, the more organic sales (sales that come as a result of your Amazon rank) you’ll enjoy.

Traffic

Without eyeballs on your books, you will not sell books. Period. Thus, to make sales every day, you need readers to see your books every day. And that is achieved by driving traffic to your book product page. Can you see how these four pillars are starting to connect?

Now, there are many forms of traffic generation, including, but by no means limited to advertising, newsletter swaps, group promotions, and promotional sites. But you don’t need to do all of them. When you’re just starting out, pick one or two platforms and really get those dialed in before you start adding more to your plate.

For my wife’s books, we are exclusive to Amazon. Authors who have books in the Top 500 of the Kindle store generate 80–90% of their sales directly as a result of their bestseller rank. These are all, essentially, free sales.

But to achieve a great bestseller rank and enjoy those organic sales, you need to tickle the Amazon algorithm enough to take notice of you, which you do by driving sales through your own marketing and advertising efforts, such as Facebook ads and Amazon ads.

Audience building

As an author, your biggest asset is your books. Your next biggest asset is your audience.

I’m not talking about your Twitter followers or Facebook likes. I’m talking about true fans of your books, who you have direct access to through email.

The issue I have with building an audience on platforms such as Twitter and Facebook is that you’re building this audience on rented ground. If your account on one or more of these platforms is suddenly shut down, you would lose your entire audience overnight.

To avoid this situation, by all means, build an audience on these platforms, but, make sure you are de-platforming people by encouraging them to join your email list, which is best achieved through offering them something in return for their email address, such as a short story, a novella, a bonus chapter, or even a full book; this is commonly known as a reader magnet.

With an email list, you can contact your audience at any time (within reason, of course), ask them to buy your new release, leave a review of your book, and let them know about a flash sale you’re running.

When your email list becomes large enough, you can drive a LOT of sales of your new releases and your backlist, and it won’t cost you a penny in advertising. Your world really is your oyster when you have an email list.

Just respect your audience, don’t spam them, provide value (yes, even entertainment is considered value), and share a little or a lot, whatever you’re comfortable with, about yourself, your writing—even Tibbles, your cat, who accompanies you whilst you write!

Remember, you are communicating with real people, so be sure to treat them as such. And ultimately, be your true authentic self.

Profit

Ultimately, if you want to become or remain a full-time author, you need to make a profit (unless you have very deep pockets and don’t need the money).

Royalties are more bragging rights than anything else. The number that really matters is profit, or the money you take home in your pocket after paying for ads, promotions, etc.

The best way to keep an eye on your profit and other financials is to track your numbers. At a minimum, I would recommend tracking the following:

Royalties earnedTotal ad or marketing spend (you could break this down into ad spend for each platform)Total ordersTotal page reads if you’re in Kindle UnlimitedEmail subscribersProfit

This fourth pillar is perhaps the most important because, without profit, you will not be able to continue writing full time (again, unless you have no financial worries).

In your 30–60 minutes of intentional marketing sessions, your task(s) should be focused on one of these pillars.

Why 30–60 minutes per day spent marketing is all you need

In the beginning, I would spend four to six hours per day marketing Lori’s books. Granted, I learned a lot. But at the same time, I was tinkering with things too much, whilst also splitting my time, energy, and limited budget far too thin.

Since then, three children later, I now work on the marketing of my wife’s books for an average of 60 minutes per day; sometimes more, sometimes less, depending on what is happening at the time. If we have a book launch or promotion coming up, I’ll typically spend a little longer than 60 minutes per day, just to make sure everything is in place.

But in a typical week, 60 minutes per day is about average.

And you know what? Since cutting down my time to just 60 minutes per day, results have been better than ever.

In 1955, British author and historian, Cyril Northcote Parkinson, wrote in an article for The Economist that “work expands to fill the time allotted for its completion.”

This became known as Parkinson’s Law.

If you give yourself four hours to set up your Facebook ads, it will take four hours. If you give yourself 60 minutes, you’ll have it completed in 60 minutes.

When I’m in a 60-minute marketing session, here’s what I do:

Step 0: The night before, I plan out exactly what needs to be done in those 60 minutes.Step 1: I sit (or stand) at my desk knowing what I need to work on.Step 2: Put on a pair of noise-canceling headphones and listen to Brain.fm (music that has been composed to help you focus), put my phone in another room, and turn off all notifications on my computer (yes, that includes email!)Step 3: Work the plan! I work on exactly what I planned out the night before, nothing more, nothing less.Step 4: Review my work and reflect on what I’ve done.Step 5 (bonus): Reflect at the end of each week, and ask myself questions to help me improve for the following week.

So how do I know what I need to work on? That’s where strategy comes into play.

How and why to craft a strategy for your author business

Without a strategy, without direction, without knowing where you’re heading and why, you’re drifting. It’s like getting into your car and driving with no destination in mind.

Here’s how I define strategy: A strategy is set of choices or actions you make that positions your books (and your author brand as a whole) on the playing field of your choice (such as Amazon) in a way that you win.

Your strategy will set the intention for every single marketing activity you do. It will help you keep everything on track. It will help you identify what is and isn’t worth your time. What you should say yes to, what you should say no to.

The mistake many authors make is that they have a huge long list of tactics (the individual actions or activities you perform), but no strategy to tie them all together.

The result of this is that marketing becomes overwhelming because they have so much they think they need to do, and end up doing nothing because they have no idea where to start. This is sometimes referred to as paralysis by analysis.

And that’s why you need to identify which tactics truly move the lever for you.

Identifying your lever-moving marketing activities

There are countless opportunities out there for authors to market their books, and I completely understand just how tempting it can be to do it all. If you follow that path though, I can promise that you will burn yourself out and become a slave to your business. Ask me how I know!

The better, more sustainable option then, is to identify your lever-moving activities and double down on them. Don’t fret about what other authors are doing and think you need to do that too.

I’m not saying to never test new ideas; just allocate additional time to do so. The 30–60 minutes you spend each day marketing should be 100% dedicated to the lever-moving activities.

The best way I’ve found for identifying lever-moving activities is to write down every single marketing-related task you perform over the course of a week. Then look at that list and identify the 20% of tasks (because that’s all it will be) that are driving 80% of your results. These tasks will fall into one of the four pillars:

Book product pageTrafficAudience buildingProfitHow to plan out your days, weeks, and months

Planning may not be the most exciting thing to do (though, admittedly, I rather enjoy the process of planning!), but by taking the time to:

Plan out your goals for the weeks and months aheadKnow what you want to achieve and by when

… you’re going to achieve so much more than you would with zero planning, or winging it.

The time you spend marketing will be 100x more effective than you thought possible because you’ll get more done in just 30–60 minutes than you otherwise would in an 8-hour day.

Without a plan, you’ll have 37 different things floating around your head, not knowing which one to work on today. Before you know it, you’ve replied to a few emails, doom-scrolled on your favorite social media platforms, refreshed your KDP dashboard 10 times, and 60 minutes later, you’ve achieved nothing meaningful. I’ve been there. Trust me.

Parting thoughts

I hope I’ve convinced you of the importance of planning your time effectively, and given you permission that it’s OK to not to be doing all the things.

Now, if you want to be everywhere and do all the things, go ahead. Just be very aware that if you’re saying yes to something, you’re saying no to something else. And that something else could very well be one or more of your lever-moving activities. And remember, you don’t need to do more. Try doing less, but doing it better. That’s only possible when you remove all the dead weight from your days, weeks and months, and focus your time, energy, and budget on the 20% of activities that are driving 80% of your results.

A Framework for Moving Beyond Your First Draft

Photo by Leah Kelley

Today’s post is by author Amy L. Bernstein (@amylbernstein).

Driving along the back roads of Vermont, you learn to appreciate the nearly forgotten charms of the printed roadmap. GPS is spotty in Vermont, and it’s easy to find yourself on a narrow, deeply rutted dirt road that seems to lead nowhere. You get to a place where you literally can’t see the forest for the trees. And then you know you are well and truly lost.

Contemplating what comes after you’ve completed the first draft of a novel is a lot like getting lost in Vermont. The journey up to now has been beautiful and inspiring, but at some point, you have to admit that you have no idea where you’re going or if you’ll ever find your way back home.

For the writer (a traveler of sorts), this predicament raises existential questions: How do you find a way back to the beginning, or else on to the next great destination? What if you can’t decide where to go next? Why does being lost seem fun at first—and then kind of scary, even hopeless?

Getting used to getting lost

Many new writers working on a first novel never make it past a first draft—not because they’ve stopped believing in their story or because they’re lazy. They grind to a halt at the very first “The End” because they don’t know what comes next. There is no obvious inciting incident for rewrites and revisions. A great big question—How do I make this better?—often goes unanswered.

Experienced writers, on the other hand, know that their first draft is never their last draft. They know, too, that getting at least a little bit lost between drafts is par for the course. But that doesn’t mean the post-first-draft transition is easy. As in Vermont, where tiny roads branch off in all directions, figuring out which direction to head as you move from first draft to second can be a head-scratcher for novice and experienced writers alike.

Figuring out how to get from “shoveling sand into a box,” as Shannon Hale calls the first draft, to something polished enough to pitch, is not easy even for best-selling authors.

Novelist Jennifer Egan likes her first drafts to be “blind, unconscious, messy efforts.” It’s a long way from there to her polished, deeply researched books. The magic doesn’t happen overnight. John Irving admits to writing first drafts in a matter of weeks, but then spends months or years revising.

Obviously, there is no magical treasure map that every writer can follow. And even if you think you’ve found the right map for your journey, how do you know if your sense of direction is any good?

First drafts are often private affairs, the pages lying in a hermetically sealed vault, away from prying eyes. As Terry Pratchett famously said, the first draft is about you telling yourself the story. How, then, do you gain sufficient critical distance to revise your own work?

Toni Morrison flagged that challenge for all of us. “[Y]ou have to be able to read what you write critically. … [and] surrender to it and know the problems and not get all fraught,” she said.

Alas, we are not all Toni Morrison-level geniuses.

Asking the right questions

I believe we can inject a modicum of sanity into the second-draft process by focusing on universal elements of storytelling that help a writer to set priorities and to answer, at least in part, the “How do I make this better?” question.

This effort begins by focusing on five critical aspects found in most novels. A writer who systematically and honestly checks in on how each aspect functions in her novel—and identifies where rewrites and revisions are needed scene by scene to make these elements work better and harder in service to the story—is on the way to structuring a better draft.

Two big caveats before continuing:

I’m generally referring to mainstream genre and commercial fiction, rather than deeply literary or experimental fiction, where breaking conventional rules of storytelling is expected.Expectations for what a second draft should achieve vary by writer. I’ll impose my bias here: I believe a second draft can and should do a lot of heavy lifting. The whole point of the virgin revision process is to make the story and its characters deeper, richer, and sharper. This is not the draft to be tinkering at the margins.The second-draft checklist

The building blocks of the second-draft revision process are grounded in these five aspects of the novel, which stand alone and also interact with and affect one another:

The main character (MC). The MC must be fully present in the novel: sharply drawn, replete with contradictions, a catalyst for action, and gives the reader a reason to care.Emotional stakes. The stakes should be high, clearly differentiated among the major characters, and serve as a source of tension and conflict.Essential scenes. The goal is to (a) identify scenes ripe for cutting or trimming because they don’t move the story forward or serve as static info dumps; and (b) detect where new scenes are needed to deepen a character’s motivations, reveal conflict, or add other critical texture.Pacing. A novel that unfolds at just one speed (all fast, all slow) is bound to bore or exhaust the reader. Variable pacing among scenes and between chapters is essential.World-building. World-building isn’t only for fantasy, sci-fi, and historical fiction. Every novel is built on rules, and the writer must ensure the rules are consistently applied and sufficiently sketched. Click on image to increase size of chart

While these five building blocks are not definitive, any writer struggling to figure out what to do with their completed first draft needs to start fresh somewhere. This checklist will, at the very least, send you out along new byways, where you will make fresh discoveries about what you’re trying to say.

The key to making this checklist work for you is to work it hard: Study how each aspect functions on its own in your novel and how they work together to generate conflict, suspense, or whatever big flavors your novel needs to really sing.

Congratulations, by the way, on completing your first draft. Now get to work.

Why You Should Be Writing on Social Media

Photo by Karolina Grabowska

Today’s guest post is by Allison K Williams (@guerillamemoir). Join us on April 5 for the online class Write Better With Social Media.

Social media doesn’t sell books in any provable way. No one strolls into their local independent bookstore to ask for “This book I saw in a tweet!” We don’t check a box marked “Found it on Instagram” on our Bookshop order. Authors can’t get social media impact statements with their royalties, because publishers can’t get that information either.

Even platform isn’t the point. If you’re a memoirist, you may never build one big enough, and novelists don’t need it.

You should still be writing on social media.

This isn’t about using Facebook, Twitter, or even LinkedIn as a commercial (nothing makes me mute faster than three “buy my book” tweets in a row!). Or trying to kill it on BookTok.

Rather, it’s about using social media in the way we all did ten years ago: as a means to genuinely communicate our ideas, our topics, and our point of view to people who become our audience.

It still works for that.

You don’t have to buy an ad.

You don’t have to dance.

You don’t even have to put on pants.

For authors, social media has four main purposes—but each of these can be done off social media, too.

1. Write better

Posting to social media is a low-stakes submission to the world. No gatekeeper stands between you and your audience, and the fleeting nature of social platforms means if a joke or a flash story bombs, no one will see it again. (If it’s great, it’ll be retweeted and reposted for a good long while.)

I’m a nonfiction writer focusing on writing craft. On social media, I reach—and expand—my audience with information, support, and sharing (parts of) my real self. On Instagram, I’ve written mini-essays: “get to know me,” “hey I write things that make you think,” and “here’s a writing tip.”

I’ve also developed my voice as an essayist with Instagram posts, one of which went on to be published in a “real” literary magazine. The discipline of the character limit helped me consider exactly what words told my story. Like a free-verse poet practicing sonnets, the constraints of each platform focus our work. A 600-word newsletter has a different rhythm than a 280-character tweet. The same principles apply to building a book from an essay or a short story.

Whatever you do, make it yours.

If your life today is, “I got rejected by the same magazine again,” write that. Write about how you made 100 copies of the rejection, folded paper airplanes, wrote “Never give up!” on the wings, and flew them into the playground from the elementary school roof. Or how you dreamed about doing that. Or how you added another hatch mark on the bare plaster of your crumbling bathroom wall, how every day you sit on the toilet and count rejections like a prisoner counting days. No matter which of those is closest to your own experience, someone reading will gasp in shock and recognition, “Me too!” And then they will read you again next week.

2. Generate book material

About half of my own book, Seven Drafts, started as posts on the Brevity blog. Reader comments let me know what I left out, or what to write next. When I sat down to write an 85,ooo-word book in four weeks (not kidding!), I started by collecting every blog I’d written about editing and publishing. The material got reorganized, reframed and rewritten, but it was like the Magic Writer Elves had come in the night and left a first draft for me to find in the morning. Your long Facebook comment can be a rant—or a careful examination of why you believe what you do and why that matters.

3. Build literary community

As I wrote on the Brevity blog a while back, “These ARE my real friends.” Social media recreates the experience we had in high school and college, of frequent, casual meetings and finding out both the big changes and the little details of our acquaintances’ lives until they blossom into friendship. The last writing conference I attended was filled with cries of “I know you from Instagram!” Writers meeting in person for the first time knew what book each other was working on, how the kids were doing and the dog’s name. Those writers had already made connections strong enough to like each other—meeting in real life cemented the bond. Now, two years later, they’re ready to support each other’s books on the way to publication.

4. Be seen alongside comparable authors

Beyond the comparable titles or authors you might list in a query or proposal to show your novel’s tone and genre, social media is a place to position your work next to the authors you love. Engage with their followers, and some will (gradually) become your followers too. Amber Sparks talks about her day and the discoveries in her writing life—you can respond by talking about yours, and one more person sees your name in conjunction with hers, as if you’re already shelved together. I was able to ask more than one author to blurb my book after positive interactions on Twitter and Facebook.

Where you’ll find the payoff for your career

You do not have to use social media, although you may have noticed that, without it, all four of these purposes take longer, cost money, and/or require privilege to access.

“Building platform” isn’t counting clicks. Platform means becoming a part of the discussion in the community you want to reach. Instead of hating social media on principle, find the platform you like. If you already like social media, write more deliberately. Polish your sentences and your comedy on Twitter. Look for the comp titles you need (and your next read) on TikTok. Learn about publishing and share your own knowledge on LinkedIn and Facebook. Maybe even take a photo and write a mini-essay on Instagram—it’s technically still there!

For both fiction and nonfiction, “building platform” boils down to making your audience aware that you exist, and you’re writing something they care about. By the time your book baby reaches the shelf and your audience is wondering, “Where do I know that author from? Better check this out!” you’ll have polished, published and shared your words so often and so well, they’ll be glad they picked up your book.

Note from Jane: If you enjoyed this post, please join us on April 5 for the online class Write Better With Social Media.

Banish Writer’s Block in 5 Minutes Flat

Photo by Wilhelm Gunkel on Unsplash

Today’s post is by author and writing coach April Dávila (@aprildavila).

Three years after declaring my intention to be a professional writer, I was frustrated. Despite holding a brand new master’s degree in creative writing, I couldn’t seem to figure out my novel. My short stories were serially rejected by a wide array of publications, I was working full time, and had two little kids. I was exhausted all the time. More than once I considered giving up on my dream of becoming a writer.

Saved by mindfulness

Thankfully, I am nothing if not persistent. About nine years into my journey, things began to shift. I finished my manuscript, found an agent, and signed my first publishing deal. A short story I wrote was not only published, it was nominated for a Pushcart Prize. I wrote a second, more complex novel in a fraction of the time it took me to write the first and while I was doing that, my first novel won the 2021 Women Writing the West Award. My writing career finally felt like it had some momentum.

Looking back with curiosity, I noticed that the changes in my writing practice—my ability to quiet my inner critic, my willingness to be with uncomfortable emotions as I wrote them, my resilience in the face of rejection—all centered around a simultaneously increasing dedication to the practice of mindfulness meditation.

Mindfulness meditation, in addition to offering numerous health benefits, can also improve focus, boost creativity, and even offset the cognitive decline associated with aging. None of this is a surprise to me, as it lines up perfectly with my lived experience, but the number one thing I wish I could share with every writer is how meditation allowed me to completely do away with writer’s block. Forever.

Banish writer’s block

I don’t suffer from writer’s block anymore. Mindfulness meditation has allowed me to pull back the curtain, like Dorothy did to the Mighty Oz, and realize that “writer’s block” is just a catch-all phrase we use to describe the thoughts (conscious or unconscious) that keep us from writing.

These thoughts can be simple (is there a writer alive who hasn’t sat down to write and suddenly realized the dishwasher needs to be emptied?) or complex (our fears and anxieties around writing can be formidable), but they are all just thoughts.

Once we learn to see them as such, we can acknowledge them, put them aside, and continue on with our writing.

Mindfulness of thought

The technique I used to free myself from writer’s block is actually quite simple and only takes five minutes. It is often referred to as mindfulness of thought meditation. Here’s how it works:

Every day, before you begin writing, set a timer for five minutes, find a comfortable seated position, and take a few deep breaths. Closing your eyes can help to minimize distractions, but it’s not required. Then choose something to focus your attention on, such as your breath or the sounds in the room. This will be your anchor, the place to rest your thoughts for the duration of the meditation.

That’s all there is to it. For five minutes you focus on that anchor and do your best to notice when your mind wanders. (Scroll down for a video of this guided meditation.)

You may notice thoughts like “what’s the point of this?” or “this is boring.” Or you may not even notice that your mind has wandered until you realize you’re planning dinner or drafting an email in your mind. Whenever you notice a thought, whatever it is, just let it go and come back to your anchor.

The goal here is not to make your mind blank. Instead, we aim to notice when we get caught up in thoughts. That moment of noticing is what mindfulness is all about. Then let the thought go and come back to the anchor.

Writing as meditation

When the timer goes off after five minutes, simply shift your attention so that the writing becomes your anchor. As you start typing, you will notice thoughts arise.

You may suddenly remember a chore that needs doing, or you might hear a little voice in your head telling you that what you’re writing is crap. These are all just thoughts. Let them go and come back to the anchor. Keep writing.

By practicing this five-minute meditation regularly, you will become a master of focus, able to dismiss distractions before they even fully form as thoughts. This kind of concentrated focus leads to the most delicious state of flow. Words pour onto the page and ideas float up as if out of nowhere.

Finding your flow

Our modern world is swamped with distractions and our brains simply cannot function optimally when we rapidly switch between tasks. When we multitask we are less creative, make more mistakes, and tire quickly.

You can think of your brain as having a limited amount of processing ability, just like a computer. If we have too many programs running at the same time, our thoughts get slow.

The good news is that we can use this limited processing to our advantage. If we focus intensely on one thing (our writing), our ability to process other things falls away. This is why hours tend to fly by when we’re “in the zone.” Our brains are simply too busy being creative to keep track of the clock. As an added bonus, focusing deeply on something that is interesting to us produces dopamine and makes us feel good.

Even if you only rarely suffer from writer’s block, you can keep this five-minute mindfulness of thought exercise handy to help you break through when it does arise. Once you get used to engaging in that wonderful state of flow whenever you wish, you just might find yourself becoming a regular meditator.