Ann Kroeker, Writing Coach

Literary agent Lucinda Halpern prepares us to navigate the industry and prepare for publishing. With her insights, we'll position our project—and ourselves as authors—to pitch agents and get noticed. After listening to (or reading) what she has to say, you're going to feel more confident than ever as you prepare to pitch.

Literary agent Lucinda Halpern prepares us to navigate the industry and prepare for publishing. With her insights, we'll position our project—and ourselves as authors—to pitch agents and get noticed. After listening to (or reading) what she has to say, you're going to feel more confident than ever as you prepare to pitch.

Have you ever wondered what a writing coach is? As you can imagine, I get asked this a lot. I mean, it is baked into my branding, and I love sharing insights I've gained over my years of coaching. Let's start with the simplest, broadest definition of what a writing coach is and does: A writing coach provides you with input and support designed to close the gap between where you are as a writer and where you want to be. I coauthored the book On Being a Writer with Charity Singleton Craig (2014), and our editor used similar language on the back cover copy of the book and in marketing materials: Let this book act as your personal coach, to explore the writing life you already have and the writing life you wish for, and close the gap between the two.1 That phrasing captures the foundational purpose and core intent of this coaching role in a writer's life, so I adapted it here. And as a writing coach myself for over a decade, I can confirm that this is indeed a high-level description of writing coaching. Differences in Writing Coaches Every coach approaches the work differently based on their experience, background, training, and philosophy. As a result, not every coach will feel like the right fit for you. In fact, you may need one kind of coach at one stage in your writing journey and another kind of coach later. Bottom line: you want to find someone ready to address your current goals and challenges. Writing Coaches Are Not... To begin to understand what a writing coach is and does, let's look at what a writing coach isn't. ➤ Writing coaches are not editors A coach may have been and may still be an editor. They may offer both services and, thus, be both a coach and an editor. They may also offer editorial input within their coaching style. But these are two different services, so writing coaches are not editors while they are coaching. ➤ Writing coaches are not agents A coach may have been and may still be an agent. But these two services must be distinct and separate, since authors never pay for representation. If you find an agent who offers coaching, be sure the service you're paying for is coaching. ➤ Writing coaches are not ghostwriters A coach may have been a ghostwriter and may still offer ghostwriting as a separate service, but a coach's role is not to collaborate or do any of the writing for you. You're the writer! ➤ Writing coaches are not social media managers or designers A coach may have personal experience and success in social media, and offer ideas to increase engagement with followers. They may recommend social media managers and designers. But writers don't hire coaches to set up marketing campaigns or design Instagram images. ➤ Writing coaches are not marketing and promotion specialists, publicists, or launch team organizers A coach may offer marketing, publicity, or launch team services in addition to coaching. Authors who become coaches may pass along insights from their own marketing and publicity experience. But when coaching a client, they are not marketing or publicizing their client’s work or organizing a launch team. ➤ Writing coaches are not mentors My writing mentors—I've had at least five—invested time in me, guiding and steering me through phases in my career, and from those relationships, I know that a coach's advice might feel like the advice you've gotten from a mentor. A coach might even have a mentor. You yourself might have both a mentor and a coach. Despite the similarities, however, a writing coach is not the same as a mentor. ➤ Writing coaches are not teachers A coach may have been—or still be—an English teacher or a professor, and a coach may also, separately, teach through courses, conferences, and workshops. I suppose a coach may informally teach through a one-on-one session. But coaches are different from teachers. Writing Coaches Complement Other Roles

Have you ever wondered what a writing coach is? As you can imagine, I get asked this a lot. I mean, it is baked into my branding, and I love sharing insights I've gained over my years of coaching. Let's start with the simplest, broadest definition of what a writing coach is and does: A writing coach provides you with input and support designed to close the gap between where you are as a writer and where you want to be. I coauthored the book On Being a Writer with Charity Singleton Craig (2014), and our editor used similar language on the back cover copy of the book and in marketing materials: Let this book act as your personal coach, to explore the writing life you already have and the writing life you wish for, and close the gap between the two.1 That phrasing captures the foundational purpose and core intent of this coaching role in a writer's life, so I adapted it here. And as a writing coach myself for over a decade, I can confirm that this is indeed a high-level description of writing coaching. Differences in Writing Coaches Every coach approaches the work differently based on their experience, background, training, and philosophy. As a result, not every coach will feel like the right fit for you. In fact, you may need one kind of coach at one stage in your writing journey and another kind of coach later. Bottom line: you want to find someone ready to address your current goals and challenges. Writing Coaches Are Not... To begin to understand what a writing coach is and does, let's look at what a writing coach isn't. ➤ Writing coaches are not editors A coach may have been and may still be an editor. They may offer both services and, thus, be both a coach and an editor. They may also offer editorial input within their coaching style. But these are two different services, so writing coaches are not editors while they are coaching. ➤ Writing coaches are not agents A coach may have been and may still be an agent. But these two services must be distinct and separate, since authors never pay for representation. If you find an agent who offers coaching, be sure the service you're paying for is coaching. ➤ Writing coaches are not ghostwriters A coach may have been a ghostwriter and may still offer ghostwriting as a separate service, but a coach's role is not to collaborate or do any of the writing for you. You're the writer! ➤ Writing coaches are not social media managers or designers A coach may have personal experience and success in social media, and offer ideas to increase engagement with followers. They may recommend social media managers and designers. But writers don't hire coaches to set up marketing campaigns or design Instagram images. ➤ Writing coaches are not marketing and promotion specialists, publicists, or launch team organizers A coach may offer marketing, publicity, or launch team services in addition to coaching. Authors who become coaches may pass along insights from their own marketing and publicity experience. But when coaching a client, they are not marketing or publicizing their client’s work or organizing a launch team. ➤ Writing coaches are not mentors My writing mentors—I've had at least five—invested time in me, guiding and steering me through phases in my career, and from those relationships, I know that a coach's advice might feel like the advice you've gotten from a mentor. A coach might even have a mentor. You yourself might have both a mentor and a coach. Despite the similarities, however, a writing coach is not the same as a mentor. ➤ Writing coaches are not teachers A coach may have been—or still be—an English teacher or a professor, and a coach may also, separately, teach through courses, conferences, and workshops. I suppose a coach may informally teach through a one-on-one session. But coaches are different from teachers. Writing Coaches Complement Other Roles

For author Clarissa Moll, hiring a writing coach was like finding her book midwife, and she urges writers to seek that kind of intimate, knowledgeable support and input for their own writing and publishing journey. In this interview, Clarissa shares her approach to writing, platform, and publishing, like: make a list of 10 things whenever you're stuck or developing an ideasay “Yes” before you’re readypitch publications as a core platform-building activityauthentically engage with readers—she's committed to building connections and offering support Listen to episode 242 and check out excerpts below. You'll be inspired by her clear, sensible, inspiring personality and advice. Clarissa Moll is an author and podcaster and the young widow of author Rob Moll. Clarissa's writing has appeared in Christianity Today, The Gospel Coalition, RELEVANT, Modern Loss, Grief Digest, and more. Her debut book, Beyond the Darkness: A Gentle Guide for Living with Grief and Thriving After Loss is forthcoming from Tyndale (2022). Clarissa co-hosts Christianity Today's "Surprised by Grief" podcast and hosts the weekly hope*writers podcast, The Writerly Life. She lives a joyful life with her four children and rescue pup and proudly calls both New England the Pacific Northwest home. Interview Highlights Enjoy these highlights from Clarissa's interview. Find Your Book Midwife As folks in my life kept saying to me, "You should write a book!" I thought, I don't even know where to start. I mean, I can write a five-paragraph essay. I can write a thesis. But to write 55,000 words? It seemed like an elephant that was too big to swallow. I knew that to do it well, in a way that was sustainable in my own life, I needed to make sure that I was having a meaningful life outside of my writing. And I knew if I wanted to do this again—if I didn't want to end at the finish line so exhausted that I said, "No more. This is it."—I knew I needed some guidance. And so I reached out to you. I gave birth to my four babies with a midwife, and when you're in that delivery room, that baby feels like the only one that's ever been born. And isn't it wonderful to have a midwife stand beside you, who's seen hundreds of delivered, to say, "This is normal. You're doing great!" To be able to offer that encouragement and guidance along the way. And so I found in you my book midwife. You're the person who helped me to make that journey from just a nebulous kind of idea to something that's really concrete. Make a List of 10 Things One of the exercises that I have gone back to time and time again is one that we did together. You encouraged me to write a list of 10 things. And if I struggled with making my list of 10, I had to write another 10. When you're out of ideas, just force yourself to put pen to paper. That's where clarity is born. It's not born in the writer's retreat over a long weekend or at a cabin by the lake. It's born out of those very ordinary, disciplined kind of practices that you taught me. Say "Yes" Before You're Ready Back in my acting days, I had an audition and the acting professor said, "Could you do an Irish accent for this audition?" I said, "Oh, I don't know how to do that. I'm sorry." And nothing ever came of it. A couple of weeks later, he came to me and said, "You know, I wanted to give you that role, but you said you couldn't do it. Next time, say 'I'll learn how.'" That kind of perspective has been really helpful for me, as I have said yes to things that are beyond whatever I have done before. Had I podcasted before? No. But when someone invited me to do the Christianity Today podcast, I said, "I'll learn how. I'll get the equipment. I'll learn how to do the technology. I will do it." Check Your Heart I've been trying to think about what other things I could do that relate to my writing. Should I build in speaking more?

For author Clarissa Moll, hiring a writing coach was like finding her book midwife, and she urges writers to seek that kind of intimate, knowledgeable support and input for their own writing and publishing journey. In this interview, Clarissa shares her approach to writing, platform, and publishing, like: make a list of 10 things whenever you're stuck or developing an ideasay “Yes” before you’re readypitch publications as a core platform-building activityauthentically engage with readers—she's committed to building connections and offering support Listen to episode 242 and check out excerpts below. You'll be inspired by her clear, sensible, inspiring personality and advice. Clarissa Moll is an author and podcaster and the young widow of author Rob Moll. Clarissa's writing has appeared in Christianity Today, The Gospel Coalition, RELEVANT, Modern Loss, Grief Digest, and more. Her debut book, Beyond the Darkness: A Gentle Guide for Living with Grief and Thriving After Loss is forthcoming from Tyndale (2022). Clarissa co-hosts Christianity Today's "Surprised by Grief" podcast and hosts the weekly hope*writers podcast, The Writerly Life. She lives a joyful life with her four children and rescue pup and proudly calls both New England the Pacific Northwest home. Interview Highlights Enjoy these highlights from Clarissa's interview. Find Your Book Midwife As folks in my life kept saying to me, "You should write a book!" I thought, I don't even know where to start. I mean, I can write a five-paragraph essay. I can write a thesis. But to write 55,000 words? It seemed like an elephant that was too big to swallow. I knew that to do it well, in a way that was sustainable in my own life, I needed to make sure that I was having a meaningful life outside of my writing. And I knew if I wanted to do this again—if I didn't want to end at the finish line so exhausted that I said, "No more. This is it."—I knew I needed some guidance. And so I reached out to you. I gave birth to my four babies with a midwife, and when you're in that delivery room, that baby feels like the only one that's ever been born. And isn't it wonderful to have a midwife stand beside you, who's seen hundreds of delivered, to say, "This is normal. You're doing great!" To be able to offer that encouragement and guidance along the way. And so I found in you my book midwife. You're the person who helped me to make that journey from just a nebulous kind of idea to something that's really concrete. Make a List of 10 Things One of the exercises that I have gone back to time and time again is one that we did together. You encouraged me to write a list of 10 things. And if I struggled with making my list of 10, I had to write another 10. When you're out of ideas, just force yourself to put pen to paper. That's where clarity is born. It's not born in the writer's retreat over a long weekend or at a cabin by the lake. It's born out of those very ordinary, disciplined kind of practices that you taught me. Say "Yes" Before You're Ready Back in my acting days, I had an audition and the acting professor said, "Could you do an Irish accent for this audition?" I said, "Oh, I don't know how to do that. I'm sorry." And nothing ever came of it. A couple of weeks later, he came to me and said, "You know, I wanted to give you that role, but you said you couldn't do it. Next time, say 'I'll learn how.'" That kind of perspective has been really helpful for me, as I have said yes to things that are beyond whatever I have done before. Had I podcasted before? No. But when someone invited me to do the Christianity Today podcast, I said, "I'll learn how. I'll get the equipment. I'll learn how to do the technology. I will do it." Check Your Heart I've been trying to think about what other things I could do that relate to my writing. Should I build in speaking more?

Louis L'Amour is attributed as saying, “Start writing, no matter what. The water does not flow until the faucet is turned on.”1 Sounds easy enough, but a lot of times we can’t even find the faucet. Or we find the faucet but fail to turn it on. Either way, we want to write, but no words flow. Is that you? Are you ready to begin writing but you don’t know where to start—you don’t know how to get the words to flow? I’ve got 10 options for you—ten faucets, if you will. I’ll bet one stands out more than the rest. Pick one. Try it. See if it gets those words flowing. 1. Start with a memory Think back to an event that seems small yet feels packed with emotion. You don’t have to fully understand it. Just remember it. Something changed due to that event. The change may have been subtle or seismic, but you emerged from it a different person. The simple prompt “I remember” can get you started. Use it as a journal entry and see where it takes you, or go ahead and start writing something more substantial. When you remember and recreate these scenes from your past, you’ll learn from them. I experienced this when I wrote a short scene in this style, called One Lone Duck Egg. 2. Start with a photo Photos can whisk us back to another place and time, whether as recently as last week or as long ago as childhood. Pull a photo from your collection of family photos, physical or digital. Write in response to the scene. Recreate it. Let the memories unfold. You could be in the photo, or not. You could write the story behind the moment, or elaborate on a particular person in the scene. What do you think was happening? Why were you—or weren’t you—there? What does this say to you today? Another approach is to combine words with images to create a photo essay. Back in 2011, I walked around the farm where I grew up and snapped photos. Each time, a fragment of thought came to mind, a flash of a memory. When I got home, I pieced it together to come up with Dancing in the Loft. 3. Start with art Art ignites imagination. Whether you invent a story behind the piece of art you choose, or you document your response to it, you’ll end up with an interesting project. One of my creative writing professors in college gave us a similar assignment to write poetry from art. It’s possible she was trying to introduce us to ekphrastic poetry,2 which, according to the Lantern Review Blog,3 is “written in conversation with a work(s) of visual art.” But she took a less formal approach, asking us to find some art, study it carefully, and write a poem. I used a small, framed print of an Andrew Wyeth painting as inspiration. I studied the boy sitting in the grass and imagined a possible scenario leading up to the moment Wyeth captured. As I was finishing the poem and typing it up, I realized I needed to include information about Wyeth’s work. I turned the frame around and fortunately I found the date and name of the painting. Wyeth named it “Faraway,”4 and I coincidentally called my poem "Runaway.”5 Spend time with the art and see where it leads. 4. Start with an object I once wrote about an old, worn knob that topped the post at the bottom of our stairs. I loved the worn knob for being worn. All the stain was rubbed off one side of it from the years before we owned the house. Like the previous owners, we swooshed around that newel post, running our palms around the knob every single time we ran up or down the stairs. When we decided to replace the railing, I begged our carpenter—who is also a friend of ours—to save the knob. He did. And I wrote about it. Another time I wrote about a precious soapstone vase I played with as a child. The consequences of that day of play lasted a long, long time. My friend and coauthor Charity Singleton Craig uses objects (and places) to launch a “chain of remembrance.

Louis L'Amour is attributed as saying, “Start writing, no matter what. The water does not flow until the faucet is turned on.”1 Sounds easy enough, but a lot of times we can’t even find the faucet. Or we find the faucet but fail to turn it on. Either way, we want to write, but no words flow. Is that you? Are you ready to begin writing but you don’t know where to start—you don’t know how to get the words to flow? I’ve got 10 options for you—ten faucets, if you will. I’ll bet one stands out more than the rest. Pick one. Try it. See if it gets those words flowing. 1. Start with a memory Think back to an event that seems small yet feels packed with emotion. You don’t have to fully understand it. Just remember it. Something changed due to that event. The change may have been subtle or seismic, but you emerged from it a different person. The simple prompt “I remember” can get you started. Use it as a journal entry and see where it takes you, or go ahead and start writing something more substantial. When you remember and recreate these scenes from your past, you’ll learn from them. I experienced this when I wrote a short scene in this style, called One Lone Duck Egg. 2. Start with a photo Photos can whisk us back to another place and time, whether as recently as last week or as long ago as childhood. Pull a photo from your collection of family photos, physical or digital. Write in response to the scene. Recreate it. Let the memories unfold. You could be in the photo, or not. You could write the story behind the moment, or elaborate on a particular person in the scene. What do you think was happening? Why were you—or weren’t you—there? What does this say to you today? Another approach is to combine words with images to create a photo essay. Back in 2011, I walked around the farm where I grew up and snapped photos. Each time, a fragment of thought came to mind, a flash of a memory. When I got home, I pieced it together to come up with Dancing in the Loft. 3. Start with art Art ignites imagination. Whether you invent a story behind the piece of art you choose, or you document your response to it, you’ll end up with an interesting project. One of my creative writing professors in college gave us a similar assignment to write poetry from art. It’s possible she was trying to introduce us to ekphrastic poetry,2 which, according to the Lantern Review Blog,3 is “written in conversation with a work(s) of visual art.” But she took a less formal approach, asking us to find some art, study it carefully, and write a poem. I used a small, framed print of an Andrew Wyeth painting as inspiration. I studied the boy sitting in the grass and imagined a possible scenario leading up to the moment Wyeth captured. As I was finishing the poem and typing it up, I realized I needed to include information about Wyeth’s work. I turned the frame around and fortunately I found the date and name of the painting. Wyeth named it “Faraway,”4 and I coincidentally called my poem "Runaway.”5 Spend time with the art and see where it leads. 4. Start with an object I once wrote about an old, worn knob that topped the post at the bottom of our stairs. I loved the worn knob for being worn. All the stain was rubbed off one side of it from the years before we owned the house. Like the previous owners, we swooshed around that newel post, running our palms around the knob every single time we ran up or down the stairs. When we decided to replace the railing, I begged our carpenter—who is also a friend of ours—to save the knob. He did. And I wrote about it. Another time I wrote about a precious soapstone vase I played with as a child. The consequences of that day of play lasted a long, long time. My friend and coauthor Charity Singleton Craig uses objects (and places) to launch a “chain of remembrance.

I was an English major with a creative writing emphasis. When I looked to my future, I saw myself writing. Over the years I managed to build a writing career, but as an English major, I wasn’t prepared for the business aspects of writing. Invoices, receipts, taxes? That was all foreign to me. Sharing my writing through speaking and social media? That’s not what I imagined when I launched my writing life. I thought I’d be...writing. But I had to understand and embrace the four key roles that lead to a flourishing writing career. https://youtu.be/A2_iAAQm1Kk This is how I think of them: ✅ Decider ✅ Delegator ✅ Doer ✅ Declarer These four roles in a corporate setting might be something like: ➤ CEO The Decider is like the CEO, the Chief Executive Officer. That’s the top dog, the visionary, the decision-maker. ➤ COO The Delegator could be the COO, the Chief Operations Officer, the person who figures out how to run the business at a practical level. ➤ CWO The Doer could be the CWO, the Chief Writing Officer. This role, the CWO, doesn't exist in the business world, but we're inventing and elevating it for this discussion because it’s the reason our business exists. Like me, you launched this whole thing so you could write. ➤ CMO The Declarer is like the CMO, the Chief Marketing Officer: the person who ensures the message gets out. At any given moment, a flourishing writer may be completing a task that falls under any one of these areas. Some of the tasks and roles don’t seem like the work of a writer, but they all support that core function. When all four areas are addressed, a writer will start to build a profession, a career, and a sustainable writing life. And it starts with the Decider. THE DECIDER, THE CEO The DECIDER—the boss, the CEO—is the person making high-level decisions about your writing career. You fill this role. You decide your author brand, your audience, your career path. As the Decider, you determine a trajectory that aligns with your goals and values. You decide if you’re in learning mode and need to gain more skills or more knowledge of the profession.You decide if you’ll focus the next quarter on submitting to literary magazines or developing a book proposal.You decide if you’ll pursue fiction or nonfiction, short-form or long-form.You decide if you’re ready to increase visibility online. When those decisions are grappled with and made, you get to step into a second, practical role—that Delegator, the COO. THE DELEGATOR, THE COO The DELEGATOR-you, this COO, is the administrator, the project manager—the person who figures out who will be responsible for a task or activity. When you’re the Delegator, you take those decisions and figure out the best way to pull them off. If you decide, as the CEO, you need to learn, then the COO or this Delegator-you will research books, courses, and conferences and figure out which ones are best. The Delegator looks into social media solutions and determines whether to hire someone to map out a marketing campaign or a designer to create images. Or the Delegator might delegate all this work to herself and take a DIY approach. In this instance, you might set up Canva to create images for all your social media feeds and Stories. As Delegator, you set up calendars with deadlines. You determine practical matters, like apps to use, editors to hire, and ideal systems to set up, so the work gets done effectively and efficiently. You’re in this role when you’re researching laptops and asking other writers if they use Scrivener. If you set up a project management system in Trello, ClickUp, or Notion, you’re in this operational mode. And as Delegator, you tackle every English major’s nightmare: how to create invoices, save receipts, and report taxes. This operations role that pulls off the decisions, usually delegating activities, is a practical,

I was an English major with a creative writing emphasis. When I looked to my future, I saw myself writing. Over the years I managed to build a writing career, but as an English major, I wasn’t prepared for the business aspects of writing. Invoices, receipts, taxes? That was all foreign to me. Sharing my writing through speaking and social media? That’s not what I imagined when I launched my writing life. I thought I’d be...writing. But I had to understand and embrace the four key roles that lead to a flourishing writing career. https://youtu.be/A2_iAAQm1Kk This is how I think of them: ✅ Decider ✅ Delegator ✅ Doer ✅ Declarer These four roles in a corporate setting might be something like: ➤ CEO The Decider is like the CEO, the Chief Executive Officer. That’s the top dog, the visionary, the decision-maker. ➤ COO The Delegator could be the COO, the Chief Operations Officer, the person who figures out how to run the business at a practical level. ➤ CWO The Doer could be the CWO, the Chief Writing Officer. This role, the CWO, doesn't exist in the business world, but we're inventing and elevating it for this discussion because it’s the reason our business exists. Like me, you launched this whole thing so you could write. ➤ CMO The Declarer is like the CMO, the Chief Marketing Officer: the person who ensures the message gets out. At any given moment, a flourishing writer may be completing a task that falls under any one of these areas. Some of the tasks and roles don’t seem like the work of a writer, but they all support that core function. When all four areas are addressed, a writer will start to build a profession, a career, and a sustainable writing life. And it starts with the Decider. THE DECIDER, THE CEO The DECIDER—the boss, the CEO—is the person making high-level decisions about your writing career. You fill this role. You decide your author brand, your audience, your career path. As the Decider, you determine a trajectory that aligns with your goals and values. You decide if you’re in learning mode and need to gain more skills or more knowledge of the profession.You decide if you’ll focus the next quarter on submitting to literary magazines or developing a book proposal.You decide if you’ll pursue fiction or nonfiction, short-form or long-form.You decide if you’re ready to increase visibility online. When those decisions are grappled with and made, you get to step into a second, practical role—that Delegator, the COO. THE DELEGATOR, THE COO The DELEGATOR-you, this COO, is the administrator, the project manager—the person who figures out who will be responsible for a task or activity. When you’re the Delegator, you take those decisions and figure out the best way to pull them off. If you decide, as the CEO, you need to learn, then the COO or this Delegator-you will research books, courses, and conferences and figure out which ones are best. The Delegator looks into social media solutions and determines whether to hire someone to map out a marketing campaign or a designer to create images. Or the Delegator might delegate all this work to herself and take a DIY approach. In this instance, you might set up Canva to create images for all your social media feeds and Stories. As Delegator, you set up calendars with deadlines. You determine practical matters, like apps to use, editors to hire, and ideal systems to set up, so the work gets done effectively and efficiently. You’re in this role when you’re researching laptops and asking other writers if they use Scrivener. If you set up a project management system in Trello, ClickUp, or Notion, you’re in this operational mode. And as Delegator, you tackle every English major’s nightmare: how to create invoices, save receipts, and report taxes. This operations role that pulls off the decisions, usually delegating activities, is a practical,