Writers in the Storm

by Lynette M. Burrows

Has convention and bookselling season started in your corner of the world? Will you schedule yourself to read your work to a group? 

As writers, we spend a lot of time alone with our thoughts and our keyboards. Preparing to give a reading can be daunting. Questions and doubts raise up and fill us with trepidation. Where do I start? What do I read? How much do I read? How do I get through the reading without sounding like an idiot? What do I wear? Stop. Take a breath. This is your guide on how to be awesome reading your story aloud.

First tip: Don't hide behind your book.

Talk to Your Host

Preparation begins with knowing more about what’s expected. Ask your host: will you be sitting or standing? At a table or a podium? Will you use a microphone? Do you check in? When and where? Is it okay to sell books after the reading? Can you ask for signups for your email list? Is it okay to bring props or bookmarks? How long are you expected to read? 

Sometimes how long you read is a set amount of time chosen by your host. Sometimes you get to choose. If you have a choice and are a first timer, it’s a first novel, or you can’t/don’t want to be on stage for long, choose a 20-30 minute reading time.

Decide on What to Read

First, know your audience. How? Ask the host. Look at the ads for that event. Look at the neighborhood around the event. You may no know specifically who will show up, but you'll get an idea of the probable audience. Read from the book that suits their niche. Next, find a section of your book that reflects the tone of your book, one that needs little set up, and contains interaction between two characters with different goals. It can be a funny section, a sad section, or an action/suspense section. Long sections of backstory or description do not work well when reading aloud. Aim for a length that will give the audience a feeling of a complete scene. Sounds hard, doesn’t it? Make several choices. Play with them a little.

Read your choices aloud one-by-one. Occasionally, you’ll find that the section you love the most is the least entertaining to read aloud. Choose the one that is the most entertaining to listen to. (you may need a friend to listen and help you decide) Chances are you’ll hear one aloud and realize it’s the best choice. When you’ve made your choice, it’s time to move on to the next step.

Decide what you want to read from meaning, do you read from a digital device, the printed book, or printed manuscript pages. What matters here is choosing what is most comfortable for you. Choose one that you don't lose track of the line or page you're reading and is easiest for you to see under any lighting situation.

Prepare Your Manuscript

I mark a pause with a hashtag, underline words I tend to stumble over, and slash to indicate which words I need to enunciate more clearly. Use whatever markings help you read more smoothly.

If your reading selection needs some setup, write one. Make the story introduction as entertaining as the storytelling. Devote no more than two or three short paragraphs to the setup. Shorter is better.

You may need to revise your reading selection a bit to take out the narrative that slows the oral storytelling down, or to make sentences easier on the tongue. That’s okay. Do it.

Print out your selection (Don't read from your electronic device it's too easy to lose your place.) Make sure your manuscript is double-spaced with wide margins and an easy to read, large font. I use 14 pt, Ariel. Use what makes it easy for you to read.

Record Yourself

Read it aloud again. Record this reading. Then listen to the recording. As you listen, mark places on the manuscript where you need to use an emotional tone. Mark words that you tend to stumble over. There will be places where you should slow down or speed up. A time when you should lower and raise your voice. Devise a consistent method of marking these places so you remember what those marks mean.  I write a note to myself at the top of every page: “Slow Down.” When nervous, most of us speak faster and faster. This reminder does the trick for me. Secure the pages together. You don’t want a page to go missing in the middle of a reading.

One more thing, plan your pauses so you can look up at your audience. You might want to mark the words where you pause with a highlighter or even with your finger so you can return to reading aloud without a stumble. 

Plan Ahead

Visit the space ahead of time if you can. It will help calm some of your nerves as well as inform you about how large or small the space is, if there is background noise you need to plan for, and whether you plan for casual or more formal situations.

Decide what you will wear—something that represents your characters or setting? Something dressy or very casual? Whatever you choose, make certain you are comfortable wearing it. Choose something that you feel you look your best when wearing it.  How will you style your hair? Makeup—yes or no?

Decide what props you will bring. Published book(s) or cover flat(s), bookmarks, and business cards are a good start. You might want to invest in some small easels to hold your books upright. You can have story-related props on display. Giveaways can entice people to come to the reading but they won’t necessarily be readers. Treats may be something you’d bring. Know how and where you will display your props.

Introduction and Questions

Be prepared to introduce yourself. —It doesn’t have to be more than a line or two. Certainly no more than 5 minutes. Practice introducing yourself. It can feel awkward at first. Practice it until you’re comfortable. And remember, it’s okay to write it down and read your introduction aloud, too. 

Imagine what questions your audience might ask after you finish reading. Prepare answers that will entertain and tease at the rest of your story. Remember that no matter how well you plan, there will be at least one question you didn’t expect. That’s okay. Practice saying things like, I’m sorry I don’t have an answer to that, or no one has ever asked that before  but off the top of my head… That way you’ll feel more confident when those questions come up.

Make a marketing plan for your reading—share the information on your website and social media. Let your readers know that you’ll be doing the reading. Remind them several times. Ask friends to be there to root for you.

Alternate Plans

Be prepared for the possibility of no audience, a tiny audience, and a humongous audience. There’s no predicting what will happen unless you’re as well known as George R.R. Martin. What will you do if there’s only one person in your audience? 

You can do almost anything if you have only one or two listeners. You can go ahead and read out loud. Who knows? Your reading aloud may turn nearby shoppers into listeners. You can tell that person that you would be happy to read to them but if they’d rather chat about your books you’re willing to do that. Or you can chat with and get to know that one audience member. Show an interest in your reader. You never know when a little interest can turn a fan into a super fan.

Prepare Your Introvert/Extrovert Side

Whether you are an introvert or extrovert, you’re not alone. However, introverts may need to prepare themselves. Prepare an exercise or pep talk to help energize you before the show. How? You can simply chant, “I can do this.” But consider marching or dancing (in private), clapping your hands, and chanting “You got this!” Believe it or not, some vigorous exercise can help steady your nerves and help your extroverted side (however tiny it might be) come out.

Practice, Practice, Practice

• Use a timer so you can pace your reading
• Have a glass of water at hand
• Record your practices.
• Listen to the recording—are you speaking loud enough? Are you enunciating clearly?
• If you are not adept at changing voices like an impersonator, don’t try. You can change your volume, your tone, or the pace with which you speak to indicate different characters.
• Do what your characters do—shake a fist, whisper, smile, frown, whatever.
• Match the emotion in your face and voice to the words you’re reading.
• If you typically read a little long, try trimming words out of the manuscript. If you read short, add more pages or even another scene. But remember, nerves tend to increase the speed with which you read, so you might want to prepare an extra page or two just in case.
• Stop the reading at a place that will make your readers want more. (That's hint number three. )

The Day Before

• Make certain you have your props, your manuscript packed, and your clothes laid out and your props ready to go (yes, I repeated it so you will consider double and triple checking).
• Verify the location and time of your reading.
• Don’t practice this day. Relax. Do whatever you enjoy and will help you relax. Get your hair done? A manicure? A movie?
• Drink plenty of liquids the day before so you are not dehydrated before you start your reading.

The BIG Day

• Double check that your props, your correct manuscript, your props (yes, a second time), and your clothes are ready.
• Take a drink in a spill-resistant container. Water or tea with a little honey and lemon will help soothe your throat and voice.
• Get ready and be at the venue 10-15 minutes early.
• Check the layout. Do you have a microphone? Are the microphones working? Test and adjust the microphone to best amplify your voice as you read. No microphone? No worries, plan to speak a little louder and more slowly.
• Set up your props and/or giveaways.
• Smile. Breathe. It will be okay.
• If you need to visualize your audience in their underwear, do that. But, in my opinion, the best way to steady your nerves is preparation (which if you follow this guide, you will be amply prepared). Take another deep breath and just start.

Show Time

• Sit or stand as straight as you can. Smile. Even if there’s only one person in your audience. 
• Connect with your audience. Sit in an approachable way. Make eye contact. Say hello. Thank your audience for coming.
• Introduce yourself.
• Take a breath. You’ve got this. Read your story.
• Some members of your audience will love it even if you read the phone book. Be prepared for people to get up and move around during your reading. Don’t let it throw you. Someone will be intrigued by your book. That someone is your reader. Smile at that one!
• Pause at the end and smile again. (Did you get applause? AWESOME!)
• Thank your audience for their attention. (You will want to send a written thank you to your host after it’s over.)
• Depending upon your arrangement with your host, you may move from performance into selling your books. Be prepared to autograph your books, too. 

After the Show

• Be prepared to be pleasant even though you’re exhausted and packing up.
• If you find yourself, rewinding and scolding yourself for mumbling or stumbling over a word. Stop!  Forgive yourself.  We’re all human. No matter how many times you stumble over a word, or fumble a page-turn, there is always somebody who gets hooked on the story.
• Congratulate yourself. You survived. If you made some sales, Whoo Hoo! 
• Reward yourself. You just did a hard thing. Have your favorite meal or treat or drink. If you’re too tired to “people” any more, mark the occasion with something special. Light a scented candle or your favorite incense. Give yourself permission to read, to do nothing the rest of the day, or to watch something fun on television.
• If you’re anything like me, there are boxes to unpack. You don’t have to unpack the minute you get home unless that will help you relax. 
• Send a thank you note to the host within a few days of the event. It doesn’t have to be fancy. Be sincere. If you can honestly compliment the host for something they did for the event, do that.
• Plan to have a low-key day after the show. If you’re not a natural-born performer or extrovert, being the center of attention can be exhausting. Plan to take it easy for at least one day afterwards. 
• Again, if you’re anything like me, you were too nervous to drink enough liquids yesterday, so be sure to re-hydrate the day after.

However long it takes you to recover, is perfect. But, don’t forget to book another reading soon. 

Making Fans with the Musicality of Your Reading

Reading fiction aloud can be a mesmerizing as music. Reading prosody, is the term for that musical style of reading. In other words, it’s reading with expression. Remember that reader, the one who hung on every word? They thought you and your story were awesome. That’s a great feeling, isn’t it? Hold onto that feeling. Reading aloud is one of the many ways writers can connect with readers. And reading with expression is how to be awesome reading your story aloud. In fact, reading aloud can get a little addictive. (Ask me how I know.)

What is your best tip for reading your own work or, if you’ve never read aloud to an audience, what do you think is the next best thing for connecting with your readers?

About Lynette

Lynette M. Burrows is an author, blogger, writing coach, and Yorkie wrangler. She survived moving seventeen times between kindergarten and her high school graduation. An experience that helps her write speculative fiction stories of complex women whose challenges change themselves and their imperfect worlds. 

Her Fellowship Dystopia trilogy tells the story of a chilling version of America in the 1960s, where even the elite can be judged unbelievers and hunted by the merciless Azrael. Midwest Book Review called it, "a chilling but inherently fascinating read from start to finish.”

When she’s not writing her next project, Lynette, a certifiable chocoholic and coffee lover, avoids housework and plays with her two Yorkshire terriers. You can find Lynette online at lynettemburrows.com.

Image Credits

Featured Photo by Pixabay

Top Photo by George Milton

Second Photo by Lynette M. Burrows

Third Photo by fauxels

by RJ Redden

I once tried to be a one-person band.

Not metaphorically. Actually, literally. I had a guitar strapped to my front, a kick drum pedal under my right foot, a tambourine somehow duct-taped to my left knee, and a harmonica in one of those wire holder things around my neck. I looked like a yard sale that had achieved sentience and was desperately trying to entertain a crowd.

Spoiler: I was eight. The crowd was my living room. The audience was my cat. I knew things were falling apart when… he left.

The cat left.

But I kept going! Because I was COMMITTED. I was going to play every part, handle every sound, be the entire show. I'd also appointed myself publicist, booking agent, and sound engineer for this one-person catastrophe.

You know what the music sounded like? Like someone falling down a very musical staircase. Lots of noise. Zero harmony. Every instrument technically present, none of them getting what they actually needed, which was someone who could focus on them.

I think about that disaster every time a writer tells me they're handling everything in their business alone.

Let's get real.

Because honey? Some of you are out there right now with a guitar strapped to your chest, a tambourine on your knee, and a look in your eyes that says "I'm fine, this is fine, everything is FINE" while the cat is actively leaving the building.

Here's what I hear from storytellers constantly, and I need you to be honest about how many of these land. 

"I love the writing. I hate everything else."

"I spent six hours reformatting my reader magnet and forgot to actually write."

"I know I should have a website/email list/social presence/merch store/Patreon/newsletter/carrier pigeon network, but I'm JUST ONE PERSON."

(Three for three? Don't worry. I won't tell anyone.)

Because here's the uncomfortable math of being a modern writer: the actual storytelling — the part that made you fall in love with this whole gig in the first place — is maybe 30% of the job. The other 70% is admin, tech wrangling, formatting, scheduling, platform management, analytics, and trying to figure out why your email service suddenly decided you're a robot.

Nobody lay awake at age twelve thinking, "Someday I'm going to write beautiful stories AND ALSO troubleshoot a Mailchimp integration at 11 PM on a Tuesday."

And yet. Here we are. Playing every instrument. Wondering why we're exhausted and the music still sounds like someone falling down stairs.

Then. My brain rearranged itself. 

Systems to the rescue!

Last December, I was on a video call with a potential client. Sharing my screen. Walking them through the systems I'd built for my business — chatbot ecosystems, automated workflows, content tools, dashboards that talk to each other, the whole interconnected backstage operation.

There was a pause. The kind of pause where you can practically hear someone's worldview recalculating.

"How many programmers do you have?"

Just me. And I don't code.

(I need you to understand: I genuinely, truly, absolutely do not code. I once described a database as "a fancy spreadsheet with trust issues" and three actual developers left the Zoom call.)

My client didn't believe me. I get that reaction a lot, but it's true. Every bit of it was built through partnership — a genuine, ongoing creative partnership with AI.

Not by asking AI to do my creative work. Not by handing over my voice or my ideas or the weird, wonderful world I've spent years building. But by letting AI handle the scaffolding — the admin, the tech plumbing, the mechanical stuff that was slowly eating my creative life from the inside out.

It's the difference between trying to play every instrument in the band and finally having a collaborator walk through the door, pick up a guitar, and say, "I got this part. You go sing."

Speaking of guitars.

There's a guitarist named Nancy Wilson. You might know her — she's one half of the band Heart. Her sister Ann is the voice. The power. The one whose name most people remember first.

But Nancy? Nancy built the cathedral that Ann's voice filled with light.

That opening riff of "Barracuda"? That's Nancy, cutting through a pitch-black arena before a single word is sung. The audience doesn't think about who's doing what. They just feel the music. They feel it in their teeth.

The best partnerships work like that. Not two people awkwardly splitting the spotlight, but two forces that fit together so seamlessly the audience never even questions it.

That's what AI can be for writers. Not Ann. Never Ann. YOUR voice is the whole point — your stories, your characters, your weird and wonderful creative brain that does things no algorithm on earth can replicate.

But the architecture underneath? The systems that keep your world running while you create? That's Nancy. And Nancy is ready to play whenever you are.

You might be thinking: Okay, RJ, that's a lovely metaphor. But what does this actually look like in my writing life? Where I have a manuscript due and a newsletter to send and a cat to convince to come back into the room?

Fair question, Grasshopper. Let me get specific about what this looks like — and notice that none of these involve AI writing your book for you. That's YOUR job, and I would never.

The admin graveyard:

You know that spreadsheet where you track submissions? The one you started with great intentions and abandoned somewhere around entry number seven? An AI partner can help you build a tracking system that actually works — one that reminds you of deadlines, flags when you haven't heard back, and organizes everything without you having to manually enter data like it's 2004.

The formatting pit of despair:

You've finished a gorgeous manuscript. Now you need it in three different formats for three different platforms, each with their own special little requirements that exist purely to test your will to live. An AI partner can help you set up templates and workflows so the formatting happens systematically instead of eating your entire weekend.

The marketing machine you wish you had:

You're not going to build a reader engagement ecosystem by hand. You're just not. There aren't enough hours. But what if you could build a chatbot that lets readers actually interact with your fictional world? Or automate your reader magnet delivery so you're not manually emailing PDFs? Or create a system that organizes your reader feedback into something you can actually use? All without writing a single line of code?

The "I should really get organized" pile:

Contact lists. Event tracking. Content calendars. Reader data. Review tracking. All those admin tasks that aren't writing but somehow consume 70% of your creative energy. An AI partner can help you build systems that handle the mechanical parts so you can go back to the part where you make humans feel things with words.

That's not replacing your creativity. That's rescuing it from the admin avalanche that's been slowly burying it alive.

Face the fear.

I know there's fear in the writing community around AI. I'd be a lousy fairy godmother if I pretended otherwise. Some of it's earned — the early days of AI-generated content produced a flood of soulless, generic slop that made all of us want to throw our laptops into the sea.

After spending more hours building with AI than my wife would prefer, here’s what I know:

AI doesn't steal your voice. Working yourself into creative exhaustion — THAT steals your voice.

The writer who's so buried in admin that they haven't touched their manuscript in three weeks? That's the real loss. The author who killed their newsletter because the tech was eating them alive? Nothing less than tragedy. The storyteller who has a gorgeous, immersive world in their head but no time or energy to build it out because they're too busy playing publicist, webmaster, and accountant?

That's the thing that should scare us. I know it scares the hell out of me. 

AI isn't here to write your stories, my friends. AI is here so you actually can.

You're a storyteller.

That's your superpower. That's the thing that no tool, no algorithm, no amount of processing power can touch — the deeply human act of pulling something from your imagination and making other humans feel it in their bones.

And. You were never meant to be your own IT department, marketing team, booking agent, sound engineer, and tambourine player all at the same time.

Ain’t nobody built for that. And the guilt you feel about not being able to do it all?

That guilt is a liar. A well-dressed, very convincing liar — but a liar nonetheless.

So. Let the one-person show be over. Not because you failed. Because you were never supposed to be doing it in the first place.

And now you don't have to.

Here’s how to start with AI:

Start small. Embarrassingly small. Pick the ONE task in your writing business that makes you want to fake your own death every time it shows up on your to-do list. The formatting nightmare. The spreadsheet you've been avoiding. The email system that haunts your dreams.

Take that one thing to an AI tool and say: "Help me build a better way to do this."

Not "do this for me." BUILD a better way. Together. Like a partnership.

See how it feels to have someone else finally pick up a guitar so you can do what you were always meant to do.

Because here's what I know from experience: once you feel that shift — from drowning solo to creating with a partner — you don't go back.

The music's just too good.

Have you experimented with AI in your writing business? What's the ONE part of the one-person show you're most ready to hand off? Tell me in the comments — I read em all.

If you're ready to build your own AI partnership from scratch, I'm running a 12-week workshop called No BS AI — no coding, no hype, just real building for creative entrepreneurs who are done playing every instrument. Details at nobsai.now. Come curious. Leave with something that actually works.

About RJ

RJ Redden is your digital fairy godmother for audience engagement. Her wand wields AI, chatbots, and augmented reality to create experiences so engaging, your readers will forget Netflix exists. She also speaks fluent human in a world obsessed with algorithms. Find her at The Come Write Inn.com. This article was edited with AI assistance, because this fairy godmother believes in using every tool in the workshop — ethically and transparently.

By Doug Seibold

People today are doing a lot of writing. More people all the time, apparently. The quantity of new books grows dramatically each year; even discounting the massive influx of AI slop, the zeal for publishing remains tremendous. Of course, there are better tools available today to get work in front of others than ever before. These resources are helping writers get their work into publishable form and bring it to the greater reading public.

What is publishing?

This is the most basic way to understand publishing: it connects writers to readers.

Among these resources are self-publishing service providers, digital printers, online communities and networks on a variety of different platforms, and even just the very internet itself, which comprises the ultimate self-publishing platform. Meanwhile, traditional publishing is going strong. On the spectrum between self-publishing on the internet and signing a contract with a Big 5 conglomerate publisher, there are any number of hybrid entities at different points along the way offering different business models.

What does it mean to pursue any of the different options available to writers today?

What are the various pros and cons of these different options?

At this stage, many writers falter or reach an outright standstill. It can be hard to get good information about these matters. Traditional publishers have long obscured their own workings, not least because of the industry’s focus on promoting specific writers and books rather than the publishers themselves. Self-publishing service providers have a vested commercial interest in promoting a specific vision of their work’s value to writers. They make money by charging writers for services, so they promote their services to strengthen their business interests. That’s basic business—caveat emptor.

As a publisher, I always find it discouraging to encounter writers unwilling or unable to learn more about publishing. For some writers, this can be a key expression of their identities as creative artists. They don’t wish to sully or preoccupy themselves with business matters. But even the most self-proclaimed business-averse writers often hope for their work to reach the largest possible audience. And in doing so they hope to realize the greatest possible financial gain. (If you truly don’t care about these things, you can always just post your work for free on the web.)

How can learning help writers?

Writers share a lot of information and opinions among themselves. But it’s a rare writer that has a true 360-degree perspective on the industry in its manifold forms. In my experience, much of what writers share among themselves can be at best limited. At worst, it can be badly distorted misinformation. A little knowledge can be a dangerous thing, in this case.

I think every writer who wishes to participate in the publishing industry by getting their work published, however they wish to do it, would benefit by learning more about how publishing works, even if that just means learning what publishing is, at bottom, in its different forms. They otherwise risk being disappointed in the experience or worse. Many hope to build careers and livelihoods being paid for their writing. These writers, especially, need to discover everything they can about how publishing works. But even those writers who realize the value of learning more about this industry often struggle in the effort.

Here are a few basic reasons it’s important for writers to learn more about how publishing works:

1. There is an ever-widening range of different publishing options available to authors.
2. These options often entail business models that can be wildly disparate, if not completely in opposition to each other.
3. Even coming from my background as a traditional publisher, I’ve learned that certain of these very different options can work very well for some kinds of writers. But the same options can work really badly for other kinds of writers.
4. Learning more about publishing can and should help more writers understand not only how these different options work, but also more about what kind of writer they are themselves—and what that might mean in terms of which options they should try to pursue and which they might want to avoid.
5. These various options can represent very different investments upfront, whether of time or money or both.
6. These options can represent very different potential outcomes in terms of revenue from sales—whether traditional royalties or wholesale margins—and very different degrees of control.
7. These options can entail very different requirements, or obligations, for writers trying to maximize the number of copies sold of their books.
8. Last but not least, these options often entail very different connotations in terms of the validation they entail for writers, which for some writers is the most important outcome of all.

What are you looking for in publishing?

In my experience, not every writer is looking for the same thing when it comes to publishing a book. Some are looking for complete and total control over the book’s final form. Some are hoping for the greatest possible support, advice, and guidance at every stage of the publication effort. Others prioritize maximizing the financial return from their personal and commercial investment in creating their book. Some are most concerned about what publishing a book will do for their credibility or prestige in their field. Some are all about getting their book into the world as quickly as possible.

Reading this, I hope you understand that not all of these aims align in every particular. In fact, some might be entirely at odds with each other. But without learning more about why and how different kinds of publishing can and will result in certain outcomes being privileged over other outcomes, writers can be hard-pressed to make choices in their best interests.

And this can often, if not inevitably, result in writers being disappointed in some, if not all of the outcomes that result.

Whatever kind of writer you are, or whatever kind of writer you want to be, it’s worth it to learn what you can about the industry that gets writers’ work into the hands of readers.

What are some areas of the business that you wish you knew more about?

About Doug:

Doug Seibold founded Agate Publishing in 2002, after working as an editor and freelance writer for close to 20 years. Today Agate comprises four distinct trade imprints and two education and learning-related divisions, the newest of which, Agate Publishing Academy, provides focused, affordable, and accessible training and learning for people interested in publishing. He also writes the Substack newsletter “What Publishing Is,” which aims to provide writers and others with more information about the inner workings of the publishing industry.

Featured image via Depositphotos and Canva.