Writers in the Storm

by Sarah (Sally) Hamer

Our imagination is one of the most powerful things we humans own. And, whether it’s a journal entry, a blog post, an emotional and loving email, or a novel, writing helps us make sense of who we are. It’s not just about putting words on a page. It’s about finding clarity, connection, and direction.

For many of us, writing is more than a task. It’s a way of showing up. It’s how we process what matters and how we pass it on. It’s opening up our imagination and allowing ourselves to take a deep breath. Too often, and for too many reasons, we squelch our artistic and inventive mind, stomping it back down into a reality that may not even be our own. It takes courage to be ourselves, to push back against what others think we should be.

The Page as a Place to Begin

For creatives of any kind, finding North matters. When we’re lost, whether physically or emotionally, we first have to establish where we are. Maybe it’s in a forest or in the midst of a chaotic family or even stuck in a sagging middle. But discovering North can be the first step to the first step out of a quagmire.

Only then, can we create a route out of the problem, no matter what it is.

As we find ourselves, we get to be honest and shape our ideas into something useful, turning lived experience into something that supports our creativity. And, we find the ability to go in different directions –East, West, South, around the bend, up a hill -- based on a strong foundation of what we really, truly want to say. 

A blank page can be intimidating, but it’s also an open invitation to forge our own path. We may not know which way North is when we write the first words on that page, but just the act of beginning can open doors in our writing soul.  We don’t need perfection. We only need presence.

When we write, we slow down. We listen. We begin to notice what’s underneath the surface—what’s been waiting to be named. The page becomes a safe place instead of a scary one.

Using the Compass

We each have a personal compass, a tool that helps guide us and keep us focused and aligned to our true North. It could be almost anything that can bring us from a safe (or uncomfortable) spot to go forward. Some ideas are:

• A set of words or phrases that remind us why we write. 
• A visual symbol, maybe a compass or a flower or a review that reminds us that we are appreciated. 
• A audio symbol like a playlist that helps us to feel stable.
• A olfactory symbol. I use different essential oils that help me concentrate.
• A text or phone call from a supportive fellow writer. 

Tools don’t need to be fancy. They just need to be meaningful, to help us stay connected to our values and our voice, especially when the work gets hard or the message feels unclear.

Letting Go of Perfection

One of the biggest blocks to writing is the pressure to get it right. But the truth is, writing doesn’t have to be perfect to be powerful. In fact, the most impactful writing often comes from a place of honesty and vulnerability. It’s okay to write a messy first draft. It’s okay to not have all the answers. And, ultimately, it’s okay to throw everything you’ve done that day away and start afresh in the morning. You are sovereign and get to decide. 

When we let go of perfection, we make space for authenticity. We give ourselves permission to show up as we are.

Writing as a Way to Leave Something Behind

Writing is a way to pass on wisdom. Doesn’t mean that every story must have a moral, of course. We’re not required to force a change on our readers. But it’s certainly okay to present an experience in our own lives or imagination that might be helpful to a future reader. A lot of classic stories do teach. For instance, I learned courage in the face of a friend’s death in Charlotte’s Web and the ability to stand up to evil in A Wrinkle in Time when I was a child. Both books still resonate with me. 

Remember, books don’t have to be long or formal or morality tales to make a character come alive. They just need to create a sense of reality in a reader’s mind. 

Writing becomes part of our legacy. It’s how we share what we’ve lived and learned. It’s how we make sure our voice continues to support others, even when we’re not there to speak it.

Staying on the Path

Bottom line, becoming aware that we do indeed have the power to forge our own path and determine our destiny is not only the first step, but one of the most important. I don’t care what you write. It’s a good thing for writers of any genre or style to make a living at it, of course. But it’s more about the creative expression than the monetary gain, in my humble opinion. Money is easy, compared to a lot of things in this crazy world of ours. I believe that satisfaction with what we do and how we live our life is much more important. 

Do you know what your path is? Is it joyful and satisfying? I wish that for you!

Sally, Lisa Norman, Jenny Hansen, and several others of our amazing WITS folks will be presenting at a Virtual Writing Conference on October 24th and 25th, called "Creating Creativity: The Soul of the StoryTeller. http://www.penandpotential.com 

There's still time to sign up as an Early Bird for 50% off (until October 1st). 

This is on GoBrunch, which will give you a glimpse of some of the new technology Lisa has been raving about!

(If you sign up after the symposium, you won't be able to join live, but you will be able to view the recordings.)

About Sarah (Sally)

Sarah (Sally) Hamer, B.S., MLA, is a lover of books, a teacher of writers, and a believer in a good story. Most of all, she is eternally fascinated by people and how they 'tick'. She’s passionate about helping people tell their own stories and has won awards at both local and national levels, including two Golden Heart finals.

A teacher of memoir, beginning and advanced creative fiction writing, and screenwriting at Louisiana State University in Shreveport for over twenty years, she also teaches online for Margie Lawson at www.margielawson.com and for the No Stress Writing Academy at https://nostresswriting.com.  Sally is a free-lance editor and book coach, with many of her students and clients becoming successful, award-winning authors.

You can find her at info@mindpotential.org

Image Credits

Featured Image by p2722754 from Pixabay

by Lisa Norman

Less math, more magic

I left the panel feeling horrified. A talk meant to inspire had been hijacked into a cascade of numbers: list size, open rates, categories, schedules. The room grew quieter and quieter. Writers weren’t scribbling ideas with excitement. They were sinking under the weight of all the shoulds.

Afterward, several people came up to me, the quietly encouraging one, not with praise but with trust. “Could I pay you to just do it for me?” one asked. They weren’t encouraged. They were overwhelmed.

I walked out angry.

Common newsletter advice had left writers so swamped they wanted to hand the whole thing over to someone else. That panel went against everything I believe in. The voice of should had drowned out quiet encouragement. The statistics of one author’s experience had overridden every other perspective.

I have statistics too—drawn from hundreds of authors across genres. I’ve watched beginners get their first subscribers and seen bestsellers with huge lists.

And here’s what I know: numbers often obscure the real value. Tiny lists can outperform massive ones. Accidental lists sometimes succeed where years of shoulds have failed.

The Promise and the Pressure

Numbers aren’t bad. They can give you insight into how your readers engage. But when we elevate stats into commandments, they become overwhelming, and sometimes misleading.

I once had a newsletter show a 97% open rate. Impressive, right? Except… it wasn’t real. Metrics glitch. Privacy settings block tracking. Numbers can’t tell the whole story. There's a lot more to having a newsletter than just a marketing tool.

A 10,000-subscriber list might work for one author. Another might have greater success with 200. What matters isn’t the number at the bottom of your dashboard, but the relationship with the people behind those numbers (linked post has stats and graphs).

The Myths That Overwhelm

Myth 1: Bigger list = better results.
Truth: Engagement matters more than volume. A smaller, invested audience can sustain a career. One reader who replies to every email is more valuable than a hundred who never even open.

They’re also cheaper to maintain.

Myth 2: Newsletters must go out every week.
Truth: Frequency works best when it fits your rhythm and your readers. Some authors thrive with a weekly note, others connect best once a month or less. The right schedule is the one you can sustain with joy, the one that gets readers excited when it hits their inbox.

Myth 3: Readers should be sorted into neat categories.
Truth: Readers are people, not data points. They rarely fit into perfect boxes, and often surprise you.

Instead of worrying about segments, share something genuine that resonates across categories. Humanity connects more than labels.

Myth 4: Sign-ups are just transactions.
Truth: A newsletter thrives on relationship, not obligation. When readers choose to join because they connect with your voice, that bond is stronger than any clipboard sign-up or funnel you force them into (Alicia McCalla is a fantastic example of an author who knows her readers).

A single heartfelt yes is more powerful than a hundred reluctant sign-ups.

Readers aren’t transactions—they’re treasures.

What a VA Can (and Can’t) Do

A virtual assistant can absolutely help with the technical side: formatting, scheduling, automations. That’s a gift. But the heart of a newsletter can’t be outsourced. The most powerful emails come in your voice, carrying your personality, speaking directly to your fans.

3 Quick Ways to Make Your Newsletter More Human

• Tell one small story. Share a glimpse of your writing life, your desk, or a struggle you overcame. Readers connect with moments, not marketing copy.
• Ask a question. Even something simple like a favorite book that month creates dialogue. Want to make a reader’s day? Connect to them as a person.
• Offer a gift. A sneak peek, a short story, or even a recipe. A gift shows you value their presence.

Readers Are Hungry for Connection

Your email shows up in a person’s inbox. If you’ve built rapport, they’ll glance at the subject line. Hint at something they want? They’ll skim the teaser. If they trust you, they’ll open. They’ll skim, maybe read.

Give them an experience and they’ll stop. They’ll reply. They’ll engage.

Give them something fun or meaningful, and they’ll pass it on to friends.

Quick: go to your inbox.

Are there any emails you want to read right away? Why? Any you want to save and savor later?

Starting Over

Forget the word newsletter and every guilt-ridden should tied to it. We’re really talking about two simple things:

1. A list of people who love you and what you write.
2. An email, a note from you to a fan.

Can you write an email?

You’re writers. Of course you can.

Can you write something people want to read?

I’m betting you can.

Building Connection

If you’ve ever felt buried under all the advice about newsletters, you’re not alone. Many writers have done everything they were told and still felt like it didn’t work. Maybe the problem isn’t you. Maybe it’s the weight of shoulds piled on top of what could be a simple, joyful way to connect.

You don’t need to master statistics or funnels. You need a way to connect with your readers that feels sustainable, human, and yours. If you’re reading this on WITS, chances are you got here through an email. That’s proof enough that it works.

Your newsletter isn’t a spreadsheet. It’s a conversation. And conversations, real ones, are where relationships—and careers—truly grow.

That’s the real magic: less math, more connection, more joy.

Question for you: What has your experience been with newsletters? Have you felt overwhelmed by the shoulds? If you’ve given up, could the thought that it might simply be about connecting with your fans make it worth trying again?

About Lisa

Lisa Norman's passion has been writing since she could hold a pencil. While that is a cliché, she is unique in that her first novel was written on gum wrappers. As a young woman, she learned to program and discovered she has a talent for helping people and computers learn to work together and play nice. When she's not playing with her daughter, writing, or designing for the web, she can be found wandering the local beaches.

Lisa writes as Deleyna Marr and is the owner of No Stress Writing Academy. She also runs Heart Ally Books, LLC, an indie publishing firm.

Interested in learning more from Lisa? Sign up for her newsletter or check out her school, No Stress Writing Academy, where she teaches social media, organization, technical skills, and marketing for authors!

Top image by Deleyna via Midjourney.

by Kathryn Craft

Movement is a transfer of energy. You may have learned this in high school physics, but for me, the lesson became an indelible experience in dance. I could feel energy transfer from muscle to bone, from myself to a partner. I could imagine drawing energy from the earth through my body to the top of my head and beyond; I sent it from my gut through my fingertips and into the audience so that they, too, could join in the dance.

I’ve spent the last three years exploring how story also benefits from a transfer of energy, and the most important parallel is this: the choreography that coordinates dance movement is not a series of steps any more than a story is a series of black marks on a page. What captivates is the intention the mover brings to the connection between steps, just as story movement relies on the energy between words.

One of the many benefits of this fresh perspective is that you’ll stop thinking about how to tell a damn good story. Instead, you’ll build a story that your reader can enter. Once you perceive your story’s spaces, you can invite your reader into it—and then, through managing their expectations, convince them to stay.

Here are five techniques that will extend that invitation.

1. Capitalize on sweet anticipation.

Those who read novels are drawn to the long guessing game that results when story questions are raised and their answers are delayed. They want to linger in that moment when he might or might not kiss her. To inhabit a character’s dream for a bit longer before their world comes crashing down around them. To see if the journey they were on has changed them enough to face their nearly impossible climactic dilemma.

Anticipation relies on stopping short of inserting explanation into the action-reaction chain that drives a novel. Unexpected reactions pique the reader’s curiosity. And guess what our emotions are? Energy.

As your reader asks, Why would this character act that way, picture them leaning into your story, reading on to find out. You may need to reinsert the backstory later—but if you do it will be much later, when the character is now acting against their best interests and the reader must simply know why.

2. Make use of genre expectation.

The appreciation of story is subjective and quite personal. One person might read only horror; another might read anything but. Raise the right question in your opening, though, and you’ll be able to use genre expectations to invite the right reader to move into your story.

Some genre expectations:

• Suspense: How will the protagonist prevail against the threat?
• Thriller: Will the protagonist be able to save everyone from the threat?
• Horror: Will the protagonist be able to vanquish the monster?
• Adventure: Will the protagonist succeed in his quest?
• Women’s fiction: Will personal growth lead to a fresh sense of hope?
• Fantasy: How will otherworld elements help the protagonist achieve their goal?
• Mystery: Will the protagonist be able to figure out who did it?

If a novel opens with the discovery of a dead body and a forensics team finds a disturbing clue, your reader won’t wonder if the female detective will fall in love with the victim’s brother. They’ll recognize a murder mystery in their preferred subgenre of the police procedural.

A genre question is a springboard.

Non-stop action doesn’t create story movement in thriller any more than sex automatically creates story movement in a romance. You must bait your hook with a challenging story goal for the protagonist. In the case of our detective, she may recognize an artifact at the crime scene that pertains to the disappearance of her father ten years ago, but since she’s up for a promotion, she’s loath to share this potential weakness with her male colleagues.

Now the reader is trying to imagine how this evidence will point to the killer, and whether its personal significance will compromise the detective and affect her promotion.

3. Add a watcher.

Show a character undressing for bed? Meh. We all do this every night. Show someone watching this action through a second-floor window from the street, though, and the dynamic of the scene changes. The resulting tension raises reader expectation: this will be important.

Any story with a stakeout, a stalker, paparazzi, an anonymous protector, or a nosy neighbor features a watcher. Someone standing in the wings, literally or figuratively. Ghosts are effective watchers. Santa Claus sees you when you’re sleeping. A believer would argue that God is the ultimate watcher—but even a pet’s watchful glare can raise the tension when its owner is about to lie.

4. Foreshadow.

Readers love to be knocked off-balance when an expectation isn’t met, but you must take care to create a world in which this unbalancing event could be expected to take place. Introduce a witch on page 50 and the reader might throw the book against the wall; show a flower making noise as it struggles to emerge from frozen ground and that page 50 witch won’t seem so far-fetched—in fact, her presence might meet expectation without having to explain a thing.

5. Add prose support.

If you’re anything like me, you waste too much time fiddling with phrasing in your first draft. But know that the longer you spend on phrasing, the harder it will be to replace it when you realize that those words could not create the narrative momentum you’d hoped for. The truth is, prose can’t create story movement—remember, story intention lives between the words—but prose can support it.

Turns out, your goal isn’t to tell a damn good story after all.

From the flat surface of a page, you must build a story that invites the reader in. Not once, at the opening, but again and again in every scene, by raising fresh questions that manage reader expectation.

Do so and your reader will experience a story that moves.

How do you  manage reader expectations? Which of the techniques above resonated with you? Do please share with us down in the comments!

About Kathryn

Kathryn Craft’s two-decade tenures as dancer/choreographer, dance critic, and freelance developmental editor have merged to inform the perspective about story movement featured in her October 7 release, CRAFTING STORY MOVEMENT: Techniques to Engage Readers and Drive Your Story Forward. Building on her bachelor’s and master’s degrees in education, it has been her great joy to share the craft of writing by mentoring novelists, most recently through her Your Novel Year program, and by speaking at dozens of venues where people thirst to write, from writing groups, conferences, and libraries to in-patient rehabs and grief support groups. She is the award-winning author of two novels from Sourcebooks, The Art of Falling and The Far End of Happy. She lives with her husband in Doylestown, PA.

Kathryn's New Book - now on pre-order, releasing on October 7!

Some other WITS posts by Kathryn:

Where an Author's Story Begins

The Story that Holds You Back

Our Capacity for Brilliance