Jane Friedman's Blog: Jane Friedman, page 5

Why I Won’t Chase the Post That Went Viral

Today’s post is by author Lesley Krueger.

Not long ago, I wrote a note on Substack about my husband’s neurosurgery. He has multiple sclerosis and needed an operation to implant a device to deliver a drug called baclofen directly to his spine. It was a delicate procedure done by an elite neurosurgeon and her team. Afterward, he spent five days in an acute care hospital bed where he was tested, medicated and taken care of. Since we’re in Canada, the bill came to $0, as my note said.

Almost 12,000 people clicked like or follow, while many left heartfelt comments. The majority of these came from US readers who mourned their country’s lack of universal health care, some telling stories about how hard this can make their lives. One man with MS said he was having to consider declaring bankruptcy, which broke my heart. Of course, there were also five or six people who called me a Communist, or maybe five or six bots. (Do I have to say that I’m not?)

It all left me feeling disoriented, and I spent far too much time watching the numbers click up. Two hundred, 500, 1,000, 5,000, 8,000, 10,000 hits, when it slowed but didn’t stop.

How great is that? a friend asked. Isn’t that why we go on social? To trigger a response?

Good question. What are we looking for by going online? Since—as writers, artists, family members, people with jobs—we already have endless demands on our time.

When something like this happens, I think it’s valuable to hit pause and try to figure it out. Maybe we simply want a response to our social media posts. Okay, enjoy. Maybe we’re looking for validation, or to build a community. Ditto.

Or perhaps for people like me, novelists with publishers looking over our shoulders, it’s a way to find an audience. And, oh yes, to sell our books.

But here’s the thing: Does it work?

Looking back in puzzlement: How did I get here in the first place?

In 2012, when I was starting a new novel after a gap—I’d been working in film—people told me I had to put up a website. It would show potential publishers that I was serious. They said I was already behind the times in not writing a blog, and needed to spend more time online if I wanted to get published.  

Being obedient, I put up a website and began writing blogs, meanwhile working on my novel. At first, the site proved time-consuming and expensive, and in the end (spoiler alert) it didn’t help me find a publisher. Instead, when I had a good draft of the novel ready, I gave it to a friend who had edited my nonfiction book, a travel memoir. Since Susan was exclusively a nonfiction editor, I didn’t think of this as a submission. I just thought that a friend—who also happens to be an amazing editor—was going to give me a few notes. I was deeply grateful.

As it turned out, Susan loved the book and asked her boss if she could start acquiring fiction. I didn’t know it, but she’d been thinking about doing that for a while. When her boss said to go ahead, we signed a contract, and Susan has edited my three most recent novels for ECW Press. I’m afraid this is how it usually works. Contacts. Serendipity. Someone loving your book.

Yet I learned a couple of things by putting up a website (which, by the way, I keep current).

What’s to learn when you have a publisher?

One insight came longer term. In the spring of 2024, about six months after my latest novel was published, one of the ECW marketing people told me it was selling weirdly. Usually literary novels in Canada sell four times as many copies in brick-and-mortar bookstores as they sell online. Far Creek Road was doing the opposite. 

Was it because of my website? Over the past decade, the site’s audience had been growing, with hits coming from all over the world. Maybe people had heard about the book that way. It was gratifying to think my site might be paying off, although of course I also did publicity—podcasts, readings, book clubs—so I couldn’t be sure.

Here’s the second thing: I found I loved writing blogs.

At first I did it irregularly, writing about whatever struck me whenever I had the time. I kept that up for a few years, my audience quietly growing. Then the pandemic hit. Stuck at home, I began to write blogs more regularly. I mean, we had time, right? In between hyper-ventilating.

At the same time, I realized that (a) because I loved writing blogs, and (b) because more and more people were reading them, I’d stumbled into a win-win. I couldn’t see a direct line from writing the blogs to either landing a publisher or increasing sales, but that was all right. Writers want to be read, and I was happy to run with it—until things changed again a couple of years later.

This time, everyone was talking about Substack. Now my market-savvy friends said I ought to start a newsletter. Substack, Substack: a susurration on the wind.

I liked my website and it was doing well, but friends pushed, and I signed up for several online seminars. (Thank you, Jane Friedman and Dan Blank.) Listening to them, I thought launching a newsletter sounded like a lot of additional work, and hesitated. My husband’s MS means he has frequent (free) doctor’s appointments and periodic (free) medical interventions, all of which take a lot of my (free) time. Who wants to spend their few precious unmedicalized hours feeding yet another platform?

Yet since I loved writing the blogs/posts/essays, and Substack seemed to reach a more fully defined audience, I decided to go ahead—although not immediately.

Why not just jump?

Despite the airy stereotypes about novelists, I’m pretty analytical. Before starting a newsletter, I decided to analyze my website to try to identify what had been working.

It turned out that my personal essays had been getting tons of hits, along with travel stories and my occasional how-to-write posts. Especially popular were the book reviews, maybe because they weren’t locked behind a paywall.

Stepping back, I saw that most of the travel stories, personal essays and book reviews had come out of research I’d been doing for my novels. I love doing research as much as I love writing, and usually it’s pretty free-range. The novel I’m currently writing is set largely in Toronto, so I’ve been flaneusing around the city, soaking in Korean spas, buying Polish candy in a Russian supermarket, interrupting a roofer who was flying a drone. These are the types of things I prefer to write about, and when rereading the posts, I could feel my enjoyment shining through.

In his seminar, Dan Blank encouraged people to have a well-defined focus for their newsletters, and with my analysis in hand, I realized I already had one. I loved writing about my research and people read what I wrote. So I’d write a newsletter about research called Alive to the World, hoping it would inspire readers to remain just as alive to the roofers and drones and suburban spas in their own cities, and maybe pick up one of the books I reviewed.

I launched it last year, slowly gaining subscribers, and felt happy with the way it was going.

Then my note about my husband’s surgery went viral. Immediately obvious was the fact it had nothing to do with anything I usually write. As the numbers ticked up—10,000, 11,000—I watched as droves of new followers signed up as well. And wondered what to do.

That’s the question, isn’t it?

My friends were all over me about it.

I’ve never had more than 100 likes, one said.

Never gone even mildly viral, said another.

You have to write about life as a caregiver, a third one advised. Build your audience that way. Look at the response!

We-ell, I replied, my husband doesn’t like being written about. Not in any detail. Privacy, independence, dignity. All of that.

So write about yourself wearing your caregiver hat.

But (a) how do you write about caregiving without writing about the person being cared for?

And (b) I don’t want to.

I really do like writing about research, and squirm at the thought of getting too intimate and revelatory (at least outside of my novels, where names get changed). But as I’ve said, I write the occasional personal essay for my newsletter, and so I challenged myself. Should I go all TikTok and make the newsletter about myself? Maybe go in harder on political issues about the treatment of disabled people?

Because, after all, that’s what people responded to. En masse.

So … maybe?

Once again, I went analytical, monitoring responses since the viral-ish note, trying to find out whether people have been reading my notes and newsletters since coming on board.

I didn’t get many new subscribers (even though the stack is free) but it turns out that the ones who signed up have been reading what I’ve written. Good. No one wants disengaged subscribers. Maybe you can boast a list 5,000 strong, but if only 20% open your newsletter, the number means little.

It’s true, however, that dozens of people who followed me promptly disappeared. I assume they hit follow so I would follow them back, and doubt anything I write will generate a response.

Yet among the many new followers, some people seem genuinely engaged, and I’m grateful. There’s been a jump in my readership and in responses to my notes, and here’s the thing: I haven’t done anything differently than I did before.

Therefore?

Despite the viral flurry, I’ve decided not to change what I write about. No racing after virality, no bending myself out of shape, no trying to copy whoever has reached the top of the pops this week. I’ve learned it isn’t necessary, and suspect it might even be counterproductive—certainly if people start to see my writing as inauthentic. Instead, I hope I can gradually reach more people who love to read what I love to write, and take it from there.

Maybe you disagree. But if this approach appeals, this is what worked for me:

Read through your old newsletters—blogs, essays, articles, books—analytically. Which ones have the most energy? What do you clearly enjoy writing about? Bet it will shine through.Determine which of your posts, books, essays got the most readers. Are they the ones you like best? The ones you think are well written and engaging? If not, that’s interesting, too. But I suspect you’ll find an overlap.Ask yourself what underlying subject your most successful posts share. Successful in both senses. Are they about your family? Your work? Politics, gardening, sports? Do these ones, the best ones, have anything in common? Squint hard. This is important. If you’re been struggling to discover a focus, you might find it here.Dan Blank suggests having a central theme, but four or five different subjects within that framework. Works for me. I would find it boring to write nothing but book reviews or personal essays, only travel stories or an unbroken succession of how-to posts. I also suspect people would get tired of reading about the same thing from the same writer all the time. What four or five subjects can you alternate? Ones that fall under your general umbrella.

I would be happy to go viral again when writing something more central to my work, and to build a real community. If not, at least I’m doing what I want to do. In the end, it’s a case of cherishing what you love—and by the way, that’s a caregiver talking.

How Being a Good Literary Citizen Leads to Stronger Book Launches

Photo by Darrel Und

Today’s post is by author Julie Liddell Whitehead.

In September 2023, I opened perhaps the most shocking email of my life to date—Madville Publishing, a traditional house, accepted the manuscript of my short-story collection, Hurricane Baby: Stories, which is set during the aftermath of Hurricane Katrina in 2005, for publication in the summer of 2024.

I was astounded, ecstatic, excited, amazed—all the words that go along with realizing the culmination of a long-held dream of being a published author.

In that blur of big emotions, I sprang into action to next steps: revising, editing, choosing a cover design, proofreading (so many little errors!), approving fonts, and—the biggie—devising a marketing plan for my book.

You would think I’d have a head start on this task—I worked in the marketing department for a scholarly university press. I aided the publicists, the exhibits manager, the course adoptions manager, and the director of marketing in setting up marketing plans all the time.

But what I realized over the course of my debut author journey was that the best marketing hack lay not in my own knowledge of how to write a press release or what email contacts I could glean in researching podcasters across the internet.

Instead, I needed to do more of something I already was invested in: being a good literary citizen and collaborating with others in the writing and publishing world.

Reaching out for advance publicity

I had already begun using this principle almost as soon as I signed the contract. I shot off emails to my MFA professors who published in my genre to see if they would be willing to write blurbs for my work. Two agreed, as did an author friend and an MFA mate whose work I admired. Those blurbs went into my initial press release, along with a summary of the book, my bio, and pre-ordering information.

As my author journey progressed those next few months, I made phone calls to people I knew to cooperate on advance publicity. I contacted a reinvention guru I had written for before to place an article on her website about how I’d gone from an unemployed housewife to a published author.

Talking with another author friend netted me the email of the person who selected books to review for our local metropolitan newspaper. Another pair of MFA mates interviewed me for the online magazines they edited or wrote for.

One magazine editor that I had written for during my freelancing days in the early 2000s helped me shape an article on my faith journey with the book, while another sent my press release in an email blast to their subscribers and followers the day the book released!

Scheduling appearances

Another call to a local TV personality who had interviewed me about my mental health advocacy work led her to recommend me to do a short TV interview with one of her colleagues on an afternoon talk show right before launch.

I had coordinated coverage for many books in my freelance work in advance of author appearances at the local independent bookstore, and they were very open to scheduling me a signing a few days after my book released, once I assured them I was open to doing the legwork needed to get customers into the store for the event.

To that end, I had postcards printed and sent to all the people I had postal addresses for in our local area to alert them to the event—and sold more books that day than I would anywhere else.

And I called my hometown library where I had grown up to schedule a reading for friends and family in the area, as well as my alma mater to schedule a reading through the English Department from where I had received my Master’s degree. Then I hit up a university professor I knew to see if we could work together on a signing event at her bookstore in south Mississippi.

One of my coworkers at the press also recommended me to the organizers of an event I didn’t even know existed where I was allowed to bring books to sell and conduct a breakout session where I talked about my book and my writing journey to publication to a roomful of college students.

Podcasting opportunities

Four MFA mates were also gracious enough to allow me time on their podcasts after I contacted them: one was scheduled to help drive pre-orders, another was broadcast in conjunction with the book launch over the statewide public broadcasting system, another went on YouTube in January, and yet another is scheduled later this August to discuss Hurricane Katrina literature twenty years after the storm’s landfall.

And by pure happenstance, an author I know and follow on Facebook posted a video of a podcast he had recently been on. He was gracious enough to share the host’s email with me, I made the contact, and the episode where I was interviewed just recently dropped on YouTube.

What didn’t work for me

Sometimes the proposed partnerships didn’t pan out. One friend of mine submitted my book to her book club, and it wasn’t selected. An author friend offered to do an event with me at a bookstore that knew him but not me, and they passed on the opportunity. A symposium held yearly at my MFA alma mater didn’t invite me to present my book. I learned to accept disappointment gracefully.

Did I do a few things that didn’t work? Sure. I paid a good bit of money for an online book marketing course that told me nothing I didn’t already know from working in the media as a journalist. I also paid for three months of social media management that didn’t seem to move the needle on engagement or book sales.

Both times I spent money because I was insecure about my own skills. The same insecurity led me to be too self-effacing in answering questions about my work early on. I made myself sound unsure and like I didn’t know what my own work was about. Eventually I figured out after watching myself in interviews that I needed to speak with authority about my book because I was the resident expert on it wherever I went.

Simplicity counts

Did my efforts make a difference? They certainly did, given how many collaborations I had—and especially if you take into consideration that when I started out I was a literal unknown except for some writers and arts advocates in my metropolitan area. But those efforts to be friends, to support each other’s work, and to give back to the community that gave to me represented a better investment than any money paid to a marketing guru I’d find on the internet in terms of finding my people, my tribe, those who stick with me through thick and thin. It’s that simple.

Survey: AI and the Writing Profession

Your responses will help educate writers and everyone in the profession about prevailing attitudes toward AI.

This premium article is available to paid subscribers of Jane's newsletter. Here's what subscribers get:

Access to more than 3,000 premium articles on this site, all searchableIndustry news that includes Jane’s reporting and analysis, sent via email once a wekAccess to Jane’s private resource guides, continually updated Subscribe today.

Or login below if you're already a subscriber.

Wondering why some content isn't free? Did something change? Here's an explanation.

Book sales indicators via HarperCollins

HarperCollins grew profits by 10 percent in fiscal year 2025 but saw disappointing results in the fourth quarter, when earnings dropped 12 percent.

This premium article is available to paid subscribers of Jane's newsletter. Here's what subscribers get:

Access to more than 3,000 premium articles on this site, all searchableIndustry news that includes Jane’s reporting and analysis, sent via email once a wekAccess to Jane’s private resource guides, continually updated Subscribe today.

Or login below if you're already a subscriber.

Wondering why some content isn't free? Did something change? Here's an explanation.

New organization: National Association of Black Bookstores

The member-based nonprofit will be dedicated to “promoting literacy, amplifying Black voices, and preserving Black culture.”

This premium article is available to paid subscribers of Jane's newsletter. Here's what subscribers get:

Access to more than 3,000 premium articles on this site, all searchableIndustry news that includes Jane’s reporting and analysis, sent via email once a wekAccess to Jane’s private resource guides, continually updated Subscribe today.

Or login below if you're already a subscriber.

Wondering why some content isn't free? Did something change? Here's an explanation.

OtherPpl’s Brad Listi launches DeepDive

The new company currently offers a class, via web and app, on How to Write a Novel, with 50 hours of conversations with contemporary authors.

This premium article is available to paid subscribers of Jane's newsletter. Here's what subscribers get:

Access to more than 3,000 premium articles on this site, all searchableIndustry news that includes Jane’s reporting and analysis, sent via email once a wekAccess to Jane’s private resource guides, continually updated Subscribe today.

Or login below if you're already a subscriber.

Wondering why some content isn't free? Did something change? Here's an explanation.

Links of Interest: August 13, 2025

The latest in traditional publishing, Substack, AI, and culture & politics.

This premium article is available to paid subscribers of Jane's newsletter. Here's what subscribers get:

Access to more than 3,000 premium articles on this site, all searchableIndustry news that includes Jane’s reporting and analysis, sent via email once a wekAccess to Jane’s private resource guides, continually updated Subscribe today.

Or login below if you're already a subscriber.

Wondering why some content isn't free? Did something change? Here's an explanation.

Username or E-mail Password * function mepr_base64_decode(encodedData) { var decodeUTF8string = function(str) { // Going backwards: from bytestream, to percent-encoding, to original string. return decodeURIComponent(str.split('').map(function(c) { return '%' + ('00' + c.charCodeAt(0).toString(16)).slice(-2) }).join('')) } if (typeof window !== 'undefined') { if (typeof window.atob !== 'undefined') { return decodeUTF8string(window.atob(encodedData)) } } else { return new Buffer(encodedData, 'base64').toString('utf-8') } var b64 = 'ABCDEFGHIJKLMNOPQRSTUVWXYZabcdefghijklmnopqrstuvwxyz0123456789+/=' var o1 var o2 var o3 var h1 var h2 var h3 var h4 var bits var i = 0 var ac = 0 var dec = '' var tmpArr = [] if (!encodedData) { return encodedData } encodedData += '' do { // unpack four hexets into three octets using index points in b64 h1 = b64.indexOf(encodedData.charAt(i++)) h2 = b64.indexOf(encodedData.charAt(i++)) h3 = b64.indexOf(encodedData.charAt(i++)) h4 = b64.indexOf(encodedData.charAt(i++)) bits = h1 << 18 | h2 << 12 | h3 << 6 | h4 o1 = bits >> 16 & 0xff o2 = bits >> 8 & 0xff o3 = bits & 0xff if (h3 === 64) { tmpArr[ac++] = String.fromCharCode(o1) } else if (h4 === 64) { tmpArr[ac++] = String.fromCharCode(o1, o2) } else { tmpArr[ac++] = String.fromCharCode(o1, o2, o3) } } while (i < encodedData.length) dec = tmpArr.join('') return decodeUTF8string(dec.replace(/\0+$/, '')) } jQuery(document).ready(function() { document.getElementById("meprmath_captcha-689d8e56852c4").innerHTML=mepr_base64_decode("MTIgKyAzIGVxdWFscz8="); }); Remember Me     Forgot Password

How to Turn Real Family Stories Into Compelling Historical Fiction

Photo by Annie Spratt on Unsplash

Today’s post is by author Lindsay Marie Morris.

Tales of adversity, star-crossed lovers, buried secrets, and critical decisions keep readers glued to the page. Why? Because in many cases, these stories don’t just feel familiar; they’re part of our own family lore.

For me, it was the story of my grandparents, separated for eight years across an ocean during World War II. When my grandmother emigrated from a Sicilian fishing village to Milwaukee in 1938, she left behind my grandfather, believing their separation would be temporary. But within two years, Italy entered World War II, and my grandfather was deployed to Sardinia. Just 17 months later, Italy declared war on the U.S., and my grandparents’ only form of communication—love letters—abruptly ceased.

Years later, I began penning their story in a creative writing class. But I hit a wall. My grandmother had shared few details about the war years. My grandfather, even fewer. I feared I couldn’t adequately tell the story until my teacher suggested I write it as fiction, using the facts as scaffolding and imagination to fill the gaps.

That advice changed everything. My grandparents, Concetta Marino and Gaetano Agnello, became Concetta Balistreri and Gaetano Alioto with real timelines reshaped through fiction.

My grandmother’s love of math and her garment factory job and my grandfather’s treasured copy of The Divine Comedy and family-owned tabaccheria found their way into the manuscript. The result was The Last Letter from Sicily, a novel “inspired by a true story.”

That debut took years to research and write, but I learned a lot along the way. By the time I began my second novel, Beneath the Sicilian Stars, I was able to complete it in just eight months. I’d refined my approach, developed a repeatable system, and now, I help other writers turn real family stories into emotionally gripping historical fiction.

In the sections that follow, I’ll show you how to do just that.

My grandparents on their wedding day.Start with what you know

Every family has its stories (and in some cases, secrets). Pick a shared memory, a found letter or photograph, or some other detail that has sparked your curiosity. Examine why it stands out and whether there could be more to the story.

As you start digging deeper, ask yourself:

What do I already know about this anecdote or person?What details are missing or unclear?What questions does it raise?Does this memory or object connect to a larger historical event or theme?

As I’ve mentioned, my grandmother worked at a garment factory when she came to the U.S. But in a conversation with my uncle, I learned she’d also sewn parachutes there, a small detail that added unexpected depth to her story.

I’ve also noted how my grandfather was stationed in Sardinia while serving in the Italian Army. Whenever it came up in conversation, he’d quickly add that his loyalty was to the king and not Mussolini. But my uncle later shared that both of my grandparents had belonged to Fascist youth groups. This was news to me.

And then there were those letters. My grandmother saved everything my grandfather wrote, but his messages stopped after three years.

As these examples demonstrate, I started with the known and realized I needed research to fill in the gaps.

Research what you don’t know

We’re fortunate to live in an era where research is just a keystroke away. Genealogical research has evolved from family trees scribbled in a keepsake Bible to rich databases like Ancestry (sub required) or the free FamilySearch.org. If your ancestor arrived through Ellis Island, Heritage.statueofliberty.org helps you uncover when and from which ship that occurred. And there’s even a site called Find a Grave, which displays not only burial plots but also your ancestor’s date of death and, in some cases, headstone photos.

Armed with those resources, you can build on family history. Filling the remaining gaps requires additional research.

Wikipedia is a natural first destination, but that can only take you so far. Ideally, you want to seek out primary sources. You can often find these in the resource section of a Wikipedia article. But don’t overlook valuable offline resources. Your local library offers a wide selection of nonfiction books, many of which contain recorded oral histories, as well as physical and digital copies of newspapers and magazines. Museums also hold vital keys to historical questions.

In my quest to understand why my grandmother started sewing parachutes, I began with a standard search engine query that led me to the Department of Defense website, where I discovered an article about the Wartime Production Board, which transitioned civilian factories to wartime production. Suddenly, switching from dresses to military equipment made perfect sense.

I similarly embarked on a search for more information about Fascist youth groups. Online articles revealed that involvement began as early as age six with membership in the Figli della Lupa (“Children of the She-Wolf”). At eight, boys moved on to the Balilla and girls joined the Piccole Italiane. By fourteen, they graduated into the Avanguardisti and Giovani Italiane. While participation was initially encouraged, it later became compulsory. No wonder my grandparents were involved! This revelation helped me see them in a more complex light.

Source: Wikimedia Commons

However, as my grandparents had passed away by the time I began my research, I had to turn to another source for a first-person account of the experience of being part of such a group. I found it in Sicily on My Mind: Echoes of Fascism and World War II by Joseph Cione. The author provided vivid descriptions of singing and marching in Sabato Fascisita, the Saturday political pageantry of the Fascist regime.

But what about those missing letters? My internet search took me to discussions on Quora about how communication between warring nations was nearly impossible. Further results took me down a rabbit hole to the workarounds people found by sending mail to recipients in neutral countries. These details were later confirmed by an exhibit at the Historical Museum of the Landing in Sicily 1943, which I visited in Catania, Sicily.

The more I delved into the geopolitical history surrounding my grandparents’ story, I realized I had enough material to shape plot points, characters, and worlds.

Talk to the people who were there (before it’s too late)

I often regret not asking my grandparents more about their experiences before they died. Fortunately, their children have helped contextualize some of their anecdotes and asides. That provided me just enough of a foundation to build a story.

For my second novel, Beneath the Sicilian Stars, I sought out and found Italian people who lived through those same war years, who helped me better understand what it was like to walk in those shoes. I set up formal interviews, during which I recorded their memories using Zoom and Rev. (Zoom is free for up to 40 minutes, but I pay a subscription for Rev transcripts of those meetings.)

This time, I not only had access to primary sources, but I also had the opportunity to ask the right questions to elicit the richest responses. Here are a few examples of poor questions versus those which will get you much further.

Poor QuestionsBetter QuestionsDid you enjoy the war years?What memories do you have from the war years? What made them particularly special?Was your childhood happy?What was a typical weekday like for you as a child? What did you do on weekends?Was it hard to find a job?Describe your first job and how you got it. Did your family cook traditional meals?Who in your family cooked, and what kinds of meals did they prepare?What was Sicily like?Describe what you saw, heard, or smelled when you walked outside of your home. What was your favorite place to visit?

By asking the right questions, you’ll encourage your interviewee to share experiences and feelings, not just the facts. Your goal is to explore senses, emotions, routines, and personal reflections to really bring the story to life.

Build characters from real people

Just who will vivify that story?

When crafting characters, family history provides a solid starting point, offering names, dates, and significant life events that can be incorporated into the narrative. But that’s just the foundation. From there, we must use our imagination to develop fully realized protagonists who grow and change through their own journeys. Your goal is to blend fact with fiction in a way that feels authentic and relatable.

I’ve put this into practice by developing character dossiers, compiled using memories, interviews, and archival research. This process helped me transform real family members into characters.

After gathering the basic facts, I created a parallel version of Concetta. I based her loosely on my grandmother, but I chose to make her a year younger, adjusted her arrival date to 1939, and added new challenges to make her story even more compelling.

I used a similar approach for Gaetano’s character, starting with genuine family details, such as his birth year, occupation, and long-distance relationship. From there, I shaped his story around the challenges I envisioned Gaetano Alioto would face, including war and the loss of a parent. I created protagonists who are grounded in reality but come alive through the power of fiction.

Use your imagination, and see where it takes you. Don’t limit yourself to just the facts. It’s more than, “She was born in April, had wavy brown hair with light brown eyes, and arrived on the Rex,” or “He was a soldier with dark eyes and black hair.”

Yes. But what did they really want? What did they fear? Who or what stood in their way?

Once you’ve defined their passions and motivations, you can begin to shape their respective arcs and truly build a story.

Use history as your scaffolding

So, what does all of this have to do with that scaffolding metaphor my creative writing teacher used? Scaffolding is the framework that holds up your narrative structure as you build a story. It supports your hero’s journey, adds tension, and ensures emotional beats land where they should.

One of the most effective tools for building that scaffolding is a timeline. Start it before you begin to write, charting key events (both historical and fictional) that shape your characters’ lives. I use Excel to list dates in one column and brief event descriptions in another, but a pen-and-paper grid works just as well.

Your goal is to combine historical milestones (such as wars, presidencies, policy changes, and economic shifts) with fictional ones (including births, deaths, marriages, and breakups). This matters because historical fiction is grounded in real events that affected real people, some of whom (or their descendants) may read your work.

As you weave your characters’ lives into actual history, take care not to distort key dates beyond recognition. Instead, let your characters inhabit history’s established framework.

That’s what scaffolding is really all about: creating something solid to support imagination within reality’s parameters.

Blend fact and imagination with care

Once your scaffolding is in place, the next step is striking a balance between fact and fiction.

Author Geraldine Brooks said, “The thing that most attracts me to historical fiction is taking the factual record as far as it is known, using that as scaffolding, and then letting imagination build the structure that fills in those things we can never find out for sure.”

Writing historical fiction means walking the line between accuracy and imagination. On one side, you have real events and cultural details; on the other, plot and emotional depth. The story lives in the middle: grounded in truth, shaped by creativity.

Your goal isn’t to rewrite history, but to reveal its emotional core. Historical fiction thrives in the space between what happened and what might have.

In my grandparents’ case, I had to fill in some significant gaps. I knew so little about what happened during those eight years of separation. But once I let my imagination take over, the story was finally able to reach the emotional heights it needed.

Your family story deserves to be told

The stories we carry from our families may seem ordinary, but they shape us in lasting ways. Sharing them honors our roots and keeps them alive for future generations.

Bookshop • Amazon

The Last Letter from Sicily doesn’t tell my grandparents’ story; it honors their unique experience while shedding light on the costs of war. My mother and her siblings have read the novel. And each has expressed how the characters remind them of their parents, while noting that it made them see their respective journeys in a new (albeit fictional) light.

I have heard the same from other readers, who recognize traits of their parents or grandparents and have commented that they’ve learned something. That’s what we strive for as storytellers: authenticity, relatability, and enlightenment.

So, consider tapping your family roots for historical fiction. It can be a powerful way to honor the past and even offer insight into the present. And who knows? That story you uncover may be the one someone else has been waiting to read.

Writing a Newsletter When Your Book Isn’t Published Yet

Photo by NEOSiAM 2024+

Today’s post is by author Nancy J. Fagan.

Two years after procuring my agent, most of which has been spent on submission with manuscripts #1 and #3, I’m still in limbo, waiting for an editor to connect enough with my work to want to go forward with a novel.

Meanwhile, I’ve done what’s recommended. I write, I listen, I learn. I’ve watched a substantial number of webinars from experts on marketing and the business of writing. I’ve taken professional coaching and attended countless conferences and classes. I workshop weekly with other like-minded writers. I am halfway through my fourth novel and have written a monthly newsletter for over two years.

Marketing webinars tout a newsletter as an important tool for authors to build their audience. However, I’ve often heard the question asked, “What should I put in a newsletter if I don’t have a book out yet?” I had the same question a few years ago.

I had written newsletters for companies before, filled with updates about industry, procedures, or employee spotlights. I had enjoyed those opportunities, puzzling together the layout, editing the columns, coming up with new ideas for inspiration. But that content basically revealed itself within the environment.

A member of one of my writing groups asked if anyone wanted to work on newsletters and we connected. The two of us tossed ideas around. I knew I did not want to add the pressure of a weekly newsletter to my daily work but recognized that consistency matters so I committed to a monthly offering. I also had no desire to write about my writing process every month, but I was not sure what other topics would attract readers.

When I bemoaned not having a book out to write about, my friend suggested, “You’ve written a manuscript. There are endless things to talk about. Think about all the research you’ve done.” Using her prompt, I created a newsletter that found its inspiration from my work behind the scenes. It developed into something quick, easy to digest, and interesting. I gained a faithful readership, but I found much more.

1. I went back to my research.

I surveyed my bookmark files from my novel research. Within them were countless subjects so I picked broad categories and opened sites to peruse them again. Because I’m a nurse and I often write medically oriented scenarios, I focused on those. The topics, like ether frolics or what the first operating rooms looked like, were ones that fascinated me. I enjoyed learning more about them as I wrote. Now, I often deep-dive past what I’ve used for my novels and find other interesting facts, turning them into informational essays with lots of links for readers to pursue further if they desire. I also tie into my manuscripts, occasionally quoting from them or giving some insight or connection to the topic at hand. My readers get to know my characters and some of their quirks.

2. I developed my structure and layout.

I developed a clean and consistent layout. I wanted sections that readers could deal with quickly. A main essay, some related book recommendations, plus I pull out five quick facts to highlight. In addition, I have a second feature column at the bottom of each newsletter. Initially I wrote flash fiction pieces about historical women or printed rejuvenated cut scenes from my novels. Currently, I highlight an author, some famous, some debut, and many smack in the middle of their careers. I ask them a few questions, and their answers take about a minute to read. I’ve received great feedback about the section, from both participants and my readers. I’ve gotten to know some of the authors a little better and enjoyed learning about them myself.

3. I organically grow my subscriber list.

Initially, I had five friends who subscribed, then fifteen, suddenly I had close to one hundred. I collect them through word of mouth, social media outlets like Instagram and Facebook, and my website link. I build my readership slowly but surely. Though my subscriber base came to me one by one, I have very little attrition. My subscribers stick around. Eventually, I expanded the places my newsletter could be accessed. I keep an updated link on my website so anyone can click to sample the current issue before subscribing. I also post the current newsletter on LinkedIn, Linktr.ee, Instagram, and my author Facebook page. In addition, I maintain an archive linked within the newsletter in case anyone is interested in a back issue.

My email list continues to grow every month, and I’m well into triple figures at this point, plus many readers outside of the newsletter subscription list. All without a published book. I did it without offering any prizes or book magnets. My only incentive is relatable content.

4. I keep readers’ trust.

My readers are special. I want each person to feel comfortable in my hands. To gift them something of myself within each issue that they find value in reading. I am thrilled that they use their precious time to read what I write. When my novels are published, and they will be, I also know many of my subscribers will be buyers. To maintain that level of connection, I keep avenues to contact me obvious, like social media links and email. I message back every time anyone sends kudos or a question. If I know them in person, I often get verbal feedback on a certain subject that has tickled them. One of my writerly friends will text me with delightful commentary on each issue. These are moments that feed my soul in a way that is unique and priceless.

5. The surprise is in the sauce.

I learned through this process how much I love to write about different topics. And now I have a core readership of people who give complimentary feedback and encourage me to keep going with my content, book or no book. Writing the newsletter, once I developed my style and tone, turned from a chore into a bright note in my monthly task list. I simply enjoy writing each issue. I write it for my audience, but I also write it for myself. It is not the same as delving into a fictional universe. Instead, my newsletter and its components exercise a different part of my brain, one that is engaged and growing. It’s a delightful benefit that nourishes me every month. Once a newsletter is written and scheduled for delivery, it gives me fuel to keep going.

No surprise: Boundless fails

When crowdfunding publisher Unbound went bankrupt the former CEO purchased the assets for a new venture, which has also gone belly up.

This premium article is available to paid subscribers of Jane's newsletter. Here's what subscribers get:

Access to more than 3,000 premium articles on this site, all searchableIndustry news that includes Jane’s reporting and analysis, sent via email once a wekAccess to Jane’s private resource guides, continually updated Subscribe today.

Or login below if you're already a subscriber.

Wondering why some content isn't free? Did something change? Here's an explanation.