FIRST THING’S FIRST: IF YOU’RE WONDERING, THIS IS FOR YOU.
Let’s start here: yes, you are a writer. Writers are just people who write. If you put words down on the page, you get to call yourself a writer. It’s that simple.
But simple doesn’t equal easy. Writing can be described a lot of ways. “Easy” isn’t one of them. These are some of them, though:
And also, sometimes:
So why? Why do it?
I write because my fourth grade teacher told me she liked my expressive language and clever poems. She validated what I already understood as my most joyful calling and told me to “never stop writing.” I listened.
I write because, as I penned on an “about me” poster I made in 6th grade, it “helps me get my feelings out.”
I write because back in 2013, The Strangers Project posted my story — which I hand-wrote on a bench in New York’s Washington Square Park, drenched in a blend of sweat and tears — amid the continuous series of heart-wrenching human tales in its collaborative public art project. It was the scariest, roughest, most vulnerable confession I’d ever put to paper outside a private journal, and my heart lurched when I spotted it on my Facebook feed. And then I read the comments, which said the same thing over and over in different words: “this is beautiful” and “me, too.”
I write because there is so much to write about — the smashed car window, the sloppy glory of birth, that one stranger’s smile I can’t forget. The ripe strawberries. Because I feel surrounded by material that wants my attention, and writing is the best way I know to actively witness the world around me, even as it slips away.
I write because words help me access my own sense of dignity and curiosity and meaning. Because I lose myself without it. Because I am a writer, and a writer must write.
And you, too, are a writer. You must write. I’m here to help you muddle through your stories that are asking to be told.
BUT SERIOUSLY, THIS IS FOR YOU.
Maybe you’re working on a graduate school admissions essay, but you can’t quite get the story down or find the words for your statement of purpose.
Maybe your website needs a redo, but you’re not sure how honest and deep to go in your bio.
Maybe you’re craving a creative outlet and itching to share your wealth of stories, but you just can’t seem to carve out the time and space between the laundry-folding and the emails and the, you know, global pandemic.
Maybe you’ve always been a writer, but you’re not writing, and you’re finally done being bamboozled by your own resistance.
If you need support turning ideas to words, this work is for you.
OKAY, SO WHAT IS WRITING COACHING?
My job, first and foremost, is to hold space for your writing practice and for your identity as a writer. In our sessions together, we might…
- Sort out what’s blocking you from “getting your butt in the chair,” as the great Anne Lamott says
- Problem-solve the graceful and generous ways you can tell the tender stories that are yours to tell, even if other people’s mistakes are tangled up in them
- Work to decouple the oppressive norms of patriarchal capitalism from your creative practice
- Brainstorm ideas and structures for your narratives
- Map out some routines and rituals that will best serve your creative aspirations
- Craft permission slips to validate your identity as writer, when you’re not so sure you count
Or, we might workshop something you’re working on, out loud. Either way, you’ll leave each session with more clarity about your next steps to ultimately shepherd your creative piece towards its finest final form.
HOW IT ALL WORKS.
We’ll meet twice a month, for 75 minutes each time. In between these collaborative sessions, you’ll get accountability check-ins and other forms of cheerleading via email or voice memo — your choice. You’ll also get up to two hours of editing guidance each month (via Google Docs, where you’ll upload your drafts and I’ll provide comments and suggestions).
Every session will hone in on whatever sort of writing support you might need in the moment, be it morale-boosting or practical feedback. As we close, you’ll have some clear assignments to complete before we meet again.
Any package may be paid upfront in full, or via a 3-, 6-, or 12-month payment plan. (There’s no penalty for choosing the latter — a radical business practice inspired by the work of Bear Hebert.)
REGULAR WRITING COACHING
- 3-month commitment
- 2 sessions/month, 75 minutes each
- $185 per session = $1,110 total (payment plans available)
We’ll start with an introductory session to situate ourselves in a shared understanding of where you’re at with your creative practice. What are your writing goals? What’s in your way? Then, we’ll meet every other week, and you’ll have gentle assignments to tackle in between, plus my editing support, accountability check-ins, and other bonuses noted above. We’ll start with a 3-month commitment — long enough to get you settled in your voice and your vision, as well as your chair — and as it comes to a close, you’ll have the option to continue forward with another 3- or 6-month commitment at the same rate. (Most folks do!)
ONE-OFF CLARITY SESSIONS
- 1 single session, 75 minutes
- $222 per session
- Repeat as needed!
If you’re a prior client or potential new client who needs just a moment of support on a specific project, or if you just want to try this work on for size, you can book a one-off session (or repeated one-offs as needed). Show up for our 75 minutes with a specific goal in mind. Maybe you’re stuck at a standstill on a project and want to problem-solve some plot points; maybe you’re craving a kind, clear-headed editor, or hoping to brainstorm some new essay ideas out loud. Whatever your situation, we’ll do our best to tackle your uncertainties together in real time, so you’ll leave feeling more confident that your work is on its way forward.