Ann Kroeker, Writing Coach

As a writer, you know how amazing it feels to get positive feedback on something you've shared with the world, whether a blog post, article, poem, or even a short social media update. And if you're an author trying to get a book into the hands of readers, you appreciate each and every person who buys your book and reads your book. You’re moved and humbled by readers who tell others about your book, or give your book as a gift, or leave a positive review, or show up at your book launch and book signings. You're probably already doing a lot of that for other writers. But I know that when my life gets busy, the pile of books I mean to read and review sits untouched while I scramble to finish my own projects. I fail to send off a timely note to encourage a friend who's just released her book. I delay recommending it on Goodreads. Help Writers Find New Readers I forget, that, like each and every one of us, I can help a writer push into new groups of people—my groups of people—to find readers he might not be able

This coming Sunday in the United States we celebrate Mother’s Day. Eight years ago, I wrote a tribute to my writer-mom, reflecting on they way she modeled how to live the tension of being the mom she wanted to be while also being the writer she wanted to be. This tribute included family stories and my own memories and fun photos that helped me remember. To honor her publicly, I published it on my website, though I could have written it as a gift and presented it privately. Write Your Tribute It’s not too late for you to write a tribute—a set of memories that celebrate and honor a mother in your life. This mother can be your biological or adopted mother or a grandmother. This mother might be your wife. Maybe your children are grown and you have a daughter or daughter-in-law who has herself become a mother. This mother can be a friend or a mother-figure—sometimes a Sunday school teacher, guidance counselor, aunt, or neighbor will fill that role for someone. Pick a mother you’d like to elevate, celebrate, and

About 20 minutes before the my dad’s calling and funeral service were scheduled to begin, we were milling around, chatting with various family members, organizing papers for the service. Throughout the week, my brother and I searched for photos and significant mementoes to display or add to a slide show. Scrapbook Recollections During that search, my brother unearthed a scrapbook I created decades ago. He brought it to the funeral home, since it spotlighted a lot of Dad’s family members and memories. I’d forgotten all about it, but apparently I’d interviewed Dad as I showed him items like an old clock or a painting. I also pulled out his old photo album filled with images of his family members. Most of them were old, old photos dating back to the early 1900s. Maybe I made this for a college class or for a birthday gift, but whatever the reason, I recorded him talking as he described the item, the original owner, and told stories about the people in the album. Then I transcribed everything and put it togeth

When my dad died in March, our family worked together to write the obituary. Each of us thought back on his life to decide the right stories to tell, the best details to share. What career highlights or life accomplishments should we bring up? What was he known for? How could we best capture his personality? Obituary Eventually we landed on a version of the obituary to publish in the local newspapers, to be read by family and friends and maybe a few strangers. People who didn’t know him got a glimpse of who he was. People who did know him wrote us lovely notes along the lines of, “Yes! That’s the man I remember!” or “I didn’t know that about him.” Eulogy For the funeral service, my brother wrote a eulogy. Eulogies are more personable than obituaries, as they tend to be presented through the lens of the speaker and reflect that relationship, though the eulogy might be delivered by a pastor who interviews people and pulls together their stories into one cohesive piece. To Summarize a Life Thinking back on a pe

On a recent road trip, I loaded the “up next” feature of my podcast player with every episode that sounded intriguing. One episode would play after another without my having to touch it. Hours of Filling the Mind As I rolled down the freeway, I listened to hours and hours of podcasts, filling my mind with interviews, ideas, tips, and strategies related to writing and publishing, creativity and productivity, social media and marketing. That continuous input felt like taking back-to-back sessions at a conference or classes at college. Hungry to learn, I gorged on the steady diet of nourishing information. Hours of Stilling the Mind When I arrived at my destination, I turned off the podcast player. Silence. My brain grew still. That’s naturally what happened at the end of my long journey. But of course that’s exactly what I needed next. After filling my mind, I needed to still my mind. I needed to build in space and time to process and ponder the content I had taken in. I needed time to decide which ideas I

About a month ago, I escaped the frigid late-winter temperatures of the American Midwest and headed out on a big road trip. By myself. To write. (And to walk on the beach.) ’Twas a big investment of time and resources. ’Twas a grand gesture. Grand Gestures for Deep Work Some big writing projects I wanted to dig into continually sank to the bottom of the jumbly piles of obligations and domestic duties. I’d try to set aside time for the ideas, the words, the keyboard, but they struggled to gain traction when I could only dedicate a few minutes here and there. I decided to find focus—and sunshine—elsewhere. This approach to plunging into deep work by making major investments of time, money, or space, are what Cal Newport calls “Grand Gestures.” Rowling’s Grand Gesture In his book Deep Work, Newport offers a few examples of people who have made grand gestures, including J.K. Rowling. When she was working on the final book in the Harry Potter series, she faced everyday interruptions that broke the creative co

The past two weeks, I shared with you parts one and two of my writing life beginnings. I reflected back on when, where, and how I began to dream of writing, pursue writing, and latch on to the writing identity. I included some of the people involved in the process—people who encouraged me and people who created a challenge for me, even when they didn’t mean to. And I did my best to convey some of those memories and reflections through scenes. Your Writing Life Beginnings Now it’s your turn. I encourage you to think back to your writing life beginnings. When did you first find yourself drawn to writing? When did you first imagine being a writer? What held you back? Who held you back? What happened next? Do you remember a moment, an interaction, a scene from your life that formed you and your view of yourself as a writer, for better or for worse? What happened to reinforce or change that perception? When did you first tiptoe in—or, heck, when did you dive full force into—the writing life? Preserve Your S

Note: This was originally published both at my website and at Tweetspeak Poetry back in 2013. I signed up for an American Literature class. The instructor didn’t ask about my brother, and I understood what I read, like The Mill on the Floss and Their Eyes Were Watching God. I formed opinions—my very own—and wrote response papers that earned A’s and positive remarks from the professor. My journalism course, however, turned me off. Plus, I couldn’t shake that memory of standing at the doorway to fetch the photo of the boy who had been shot. I didn’t want that life, so I abandoned journalism and switched to social work. The professor discouraged students from becoming social workers unless they were absolutely sure. I wasn’t sure. So I switched majors again when I took a folklore class, because I loved the idea of capturing stories. But someone pointed out the limited career opportunities available to folklore majors, so I started to look for an alternative. English Major Then I took another English Literatur

Note: This was originally published both at my website and at Tweetspeak Poetry back in 2013. My mom, a journalist, was talking with a friend. She beamed at my brother. “Charlie, he’s the writer of the family. And Annie? She’s…” Here, I felt my mom hesitate. Then, “Annie’s the athlete.” My brother excelled in everything involving words—from composing song lyrics and essays to dominating Scrabble games and inserting witty comments into conversations at just the right moment. I played softball and ran track. And I rode my yellow Schwinn ten-speed down country roads stretching between corn and soybean fields, past herds of Black Angus cattle and silos filled with grain. The labels fit, though deep down, secretly, I wanted to be a writer, too. Journal Three years after Charlie graduated high school, I sat in Miss Thompson’s Senior English class. Miss Thompson told us we would keep a journal chronicling our senior year, creating at least five entries per week. We were to do more than write, however. We were to

Last time we talked about getting that first pancake out of the way so you can make more pancakes. We can be so afraid of that wobbly-edged first pancake that we don’t even start, but when we overcome that fear and pour out that first blob of batter, we’ll start to get the hang of it, flipping more and more until we have a big round stack to serve others. And that’s why we’re writing, isn’t it? To serve whole stacks of our words to others? There are other reasons to write, including personal reasons, like keeping a private journal to explore our inner lives. That practice can lead to a healthier psyche, increased gratitude, and improved health. But those of us who are writing for publication of some kind—even if only on social media—have some desire to serve an audience. To have readers. We want to inform, persuade, encourage, or entertain, right? Keep Flipping Pancakes So here’s the deal. You’ve got to keep flipping pancakes. Every Saturday morning, you have to pull out the griddle, stir up the batter, a

Back in December of 2014, my first podcast episode spoke to listeners. I preached to myself, as well. The message? Just get started. You Only Need to Know 'Enough' I’d been putting off podcasting for years. There was a wave of interest in podcasting a few years prior to 2014, and I felt like I’d missed that wave. But the opportunity stirred again. People in the online world were buzzing about podcasts and podcasting yet again, and I realized a second wave was swelling. Perhaps I could ride the wave this time, I thought. Now, I’m not too good on the water—I survived a spectacular wipeout while waterskiing when I was in my early 20s. Thankfully, I’m only using that as an analogy. I saw it as a risk—launching a writing coach podcast felt as scary as pulling on those skis. The fear felt the same. But I decided to dig in and do it anyway. I decided to do minimal, just-in-time research and then jump right in even if I didn’t think I knew enough. I was tempted to have every duck in a row, but if I waited for th

Photographer Walker Evans said, “Stare. It is the way to educate your eye, and more. Stare, pry, listen, eavesdrop. Die knowing something. You are not here long." Pay attention to this world. Learn something. And then, I might add, give it away. Before you die. Because life is short and there’s so much to say. Stare We writers join the photographers and fine artists and children as the watchers, staring at the world around us, noticing what others brush past or ignore. We’re the ones who see and take note. We pry, listen, eavesdrop. We press in and push out, serving as a conduit of whatever truth we’ve taken in. Share Whatever you learn, whatever you know, whatever you see and hear, write it. Share it. Pass it on. You have stories to tell that only you can tell because you were the one who was there—you were the one who took time to notice and see what others missed. We stare a long time and sometimes stand up, walk to another location to gain a different perspective, and stare even longer—this time from

In her book The Artful Edit, Susan Bell says editing “involves a deep, long meditation within which the editor or self-editor listens to every last sound the prose before him makes, then separates the music from the noise" (5). We talked last time about the need to listen—we even explored ways to do so. Now we’re taking it to a more intense level involving "a deep, long meditation," as Bell emphasizes the need to listen to "every last sound the prose" before us makes. This takes time. Attention. Focus. We're making decisions based on what we hear, listening with a discerning ear, to separate the music from the noise. Listen for the music. Eliminate the noise. The Noise Let’s start with the noise. I suspect most of us would agree we writers don’t want to add to the noise of the world, nor do we want to simply make noise with our words. No need to sound like a clanging cymbal unless that’s adding pizzazz or punctuation to drive home a point. So we must recognize when a passage isn’t pulling its weight. H

Recently I plucked from the shelf The Artful Edit: On the Practice of Editing Yourself, by Susan Bell. Already I can tell that Susan Bell's approach to editing has less to do with comma-spotting and more to do with staying attentive and open to more important matters: ponder the piece to comprehend its purpose and meaning; listen to determine the pace and sound of the writing itself. Editing anyone's writing in this way calls for objectivity while shepherding both the author and his words. Actually, it requires the same thing when self-editing: objectivity. Bell says this: We are loath to put an objective ear to our subjective selves. But to edit is to listen, above all; to hear past the emotional filters that distort the sound of our all too human words; and to then make choices rather than judgments. As we read our writing, how can we learn to hear ourselves better? (2) We gain time and objectivity to shepherd our own words by listening. But how can we hear past the "emotional filters" she mentions? How

Curious writers are generally creative and productive, and able to achieve their writing goals—all while having fun. This is no surprise to you—I say it every week! Curiosity can fuel our writing projects and our writing lives so we can create our best possible work. But curiosity can also send us off willy-nilly with no plan or accountability, distracting us from deadlines and keeping us from wrapping up projects. In fact, every once in awhile, curiosity ruins my writing. And if you’re not careful, it can ruin yours, too. Here are five ways curiosity can ruin our writing. 1. Too Curious about our Environment Interruptions and distractions can throw us off, but outside distractions alone aren’t always to blame. Sometimes what threatens my productivity or the depth of my ideas isn’t the distraction so much as my curiosity about the distraction. Let’s say the phone rings. Someone else answers the phone, so I don’t have to lift a finger from the keyboard. And yet, a minute later, curiosity kicks in and I’m di

Last time we talked about enjoying our vein of gold as we decide what to write next. To discover our strength as a writer—writing that represents our brightest, most brilliant contributions—I proposed we may have to experiment and try new genres, new subject matter, or even expressing ourselves in a new and different voice that may turn out to be our truest voice. What intrigues you? What have you been tempted to write? How might you write it? Experiment. Give it a try. Experimentation Expands Us Through these experiments, we might uncover something we’re better at than anything we’ve tried before. Or we may confirm that our vein of gold is what we’ve invested in the most already. Either way, we learn something new. And even if our experimental efforts aren’t going to win a National Book Award, we will have expanded our repertoire and quite possibly our very selves. Experimentation is how to tap into new spaces inside…discover new possibilities…gain new insights. Experimentation Is Risky If you’re going

If you were to meet me in person, you’d find out I’m a little silly. My humor is situational, and a story grows more animated in relation to audience reaction—which I don’t have in real time here on the podcast. If we were together in person and I saw that you and other listeners were amused by something I said, I’d play around with it and gauge how far I could take it. I'd make goofy faces and do voices if it added punch to the punchline. This may be hard for you to believe, since you usually hear me on this podcast speaking in a fairly measured, calm tone. But, yeah, if you were to meet me in person I think you’d be surprised. I’ve had more than one client say they did not expect me to be fun or funny. What Do I Write Next: Exploring Strengths I’ve often wondered if that represents untapped potential for my writing. In fact, when I’m trying to decide what to write next, I occasionally ponder the possibility of exploring humor. Could I pull it off? Would people laugh? Then I remember the times I’ve tried

A few weeks ago, when I introduced the idea of how we can decide what to write next, I proposed several ways a writer can approach that decision. One was to write whatever’s next in sequence. Write What’s Next in Sequence If you’re writing a novel, tackle the next chapter. Your short story will need the next scene. A poem grows with the next line leading to the next stanza. An article will expand with another paragraph or section. If you write DIY tutorials, you write in sequence to show the viewer or reader what to do next in order, one step after another. The sequential approach can be a logical way to decide within an existing project what to write next. In those cases, the answer is often right in front of us. What’s the Next Action? A simple way to keep those projects moving along is to ask the question “What's the next action?” Answer that, and you often realize right away you must simply write the next line, the next stanza, and so on. This question is an essential element in David Allen's Gettin

Last week I presented you with a long list of ways you can decide what to write next and then I promised to expand on some of them. One suggestion was to decide to write something you can finish and ship fast. Projects Big and Small Big goals and big projects hold potential for big payoffs. If you finish that book, for example, it may propel you closer to your highest, most important life or career goals. I encourage you to see it through, because your big ol' work in progress is going to require focused effort for the next several months or years, and you’ll feel so amazing when it’s done. But if you’re in the middle of that long-term project, you may realize you’re not going to get any real feedback on it for a long stretch of time. You’re not going to enjoy a sense of completion until it’s done. As you keep plugging away at it, day after day, you must be persistent and patient and take the long-range view to maintain motivation. Do that work. Don’t stop. However…consider giving your spirits and brain a

Every day, a writer wakes up and asks, “What do I write next?” And the answer varies from writer to writer—even your own answer may change from week to week. Sometimes it’ll be obvious what to write next. When you’re approaching a looming deadline and that article or chapter must be completed, the decision is made for you. You sit down and work on that. But other days you have flexibility. You can write anything you want. How do you choose? Can we be sure the next thing we write is the right thing to write, or the best thing? Do we need to be sure? I don’t think there’s an absolute right or wrong answer. You choose. But you usually choose based on something, whether consciously or subconsciously. And if you make the choice based on something that rings true with your values and supports where you’re at in your journey, you can feel good about your decision. Ways to Decide The next few weeks, we’ll go through various ways you can decide, so you’ll feel a little more confident moving forward on whatever you