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The First Thing You Need to Do to Be Successful

Everyone wants the secret. The shortcut. The perfect routine that leads to instantaneous success.

But at the risk of this blog post being labeled clickbait, there is no immediate button you can press to be successful. No magic pill you can take or star you can wish on.

But I do know what has to be aligned and fully functioning to be successful. And it all comes down to one thing.

Energy.

No, not what Nikola Tesla wanted to give to the world for free.

Personal energy — the stuff that keeps you going.

Energy fuels creativity, focus, your curiosity, your patience with a messy first draft, your willingness to sit down again tomorrow.

And if you let everything else drain you first, there’s nothing left to write from.

Energy Is Your Writing Taskmaster

Most people talk about making time to write, but that’s only half the equation.

You can carve out an hour on the calendar and still have nothing to give if you feel depleted. You’ll sit down, stare at the screen, and it feels like trying to push a car uphill. That “free” time does nothing for you if your energy is non-existent.

Protecting your writing life means protecting the part of you that wants to write at all.

So, how do you do that? Cut out your biggest drains.

For most people, that looks like:

Avoiding People Who Drain You

This is hard because you may not be aware of how draining they are. It’s not always dramatic toxicity on par with a “Housewives of” show from your town.

Energy drains can be subtle:

The friend who turns every conversation into a complaint session, and you come away feeling worse about the world than when you sat down with them.

The family member who “checks in” but leaves you tense from all the questions.

The social circle that expects you to be constantly available, constantly agreeable, constantly on.

This isn’t villainizing anyone. People are like chemical elements. Some people help us make something very useful (say sodium and chlorine making table salt). Those pairings add value. But that same element, chlorine, mixed with ammonia creates a toxic vapor. Neither element is to blame. But the latter is a hazardous situation.

After you spend time with someone, do you feel clearer… or smaller?

Do you feel more like yourself (or the person you want to be)… or like you need a map and a shovel?

Guarding your energy means getting honest about who is your sodium and who is your ammonia.

Avoid a Job That Takes Everything From You (if you can)

I know this one isn’t simple. People have bills and responsibilities. Not everyone can quit a draining job tomorrow.

But you can stop pretending it doesn’t cost you.

If your work leaves you emotionally fried, mentally numb, or physically exhausted, writing is going to feel impossible because you’re running on fumes. Creativity runs on a full tank.

If you can’t quit a draining job, maybe you can:

  • Create boundaries around availability.
  • Take your lunch break away from your desk.
  • Refuse extra tasks that aren’t yours.
  • Plan your writing for your best window, not your leftover one.
  • Even small changes can give you your mind back.

Say No to More Things So You Can Say Yes to Writing

Most people trying their hand at writing have other things going on. And most of those things take precedence, like earning a living, spending quality time with loved ones, etc. That’s fine. Everyone needs to know what their priorities are.

But your priorities don’t have to include volunteering for every group that asks.

Most of us say yes to everything else first before saying yes to ourselves.

That means yes to obligations. Yes to favors. Yes to “quick calls.” And events you don’t want to attend. Yes to responsibilities that aren’t actually yours. This is especially true the better you are at those things. People know you’re an easy yes who will get what they need done.

This is problematic when you try to write with whatever scraps remain after your thousand yeses.

If you want to be successful, you have to treat your energy like a budget. You don’t get an unlimited supply.

If writing matters, it has to get the first cut — not the leftovers.

Don’t Vegetate in Front of the Television

I’m going to say something that will rile people up: TV is an energy drain disguised as rest. It’s passive. It lulls you. It puts you into a state where your mind is consuming instead of creating. And it takes longer portions of your day than you think it does.

An episode becomes three. “Just for a minute” becomes the whole evening. One Game of Thrones episode takes more of your day or night than a movie does because you can’t watch just one.

That doesn’t mean never watch TV. I’m not anti-TV. Just don’t let passive entertainment become the default way you recover from life.

Choose things that invigorate you instead of sedating you:

  • A walk.
  • Music.
  • A conversation with someone who energizes you.
  • Reading something that wakes your mind up.
  • Journaling.
  • Sitting outside with a cup of coffee and letting your brain wander on purpose.
  • The goal is not productivity. The goal is vitality.

My Rule With TV (and Why It Works)

I watch TV in my dormant stage. That’s the in-between season — when I’m finishing one book mentally and circling the next one. When I’m thinking. Gathering. Letting ideas percolate.

But once I decide what the next book is and I start writing?

I move away from TV watching and limit it to certain hours. I cut it down on purpose because I know what it does to my creative energy. It makes writing feel farther away. It keeps my brain in consumption mode. And consumption is where we get fat and happy, not where we have the hunger to create something amazing.

Guard Your Energy Like Your Work Depends on It

Because it does.

Before you worry about marketing or the perfect outline, before you worry about how long it’s taking, ask this:

What’s draining me that doesn’t deserve access to my creative life?

Protect your energy.

Success isn’t built on willpower alone.

It’s built on having enough life left in you to put words on the page — and enough clarity to come back and do it again.

Finally, if you realize you don’t have the emotional energy to write your story, you don’t have to do it alone. Bring in a partner who can help keep you on target and walk you through the emotional minefield of your story. I can help.

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Who Will Read My Book?

(And Is My Story Even Worth Telling?)

You don’t want to write a book for attention. You want to write it because it won’t stop taking up space in your head.

It finds you in the shower.
While you’re driving.
In the middle of an ordinary Tuesday when you’re just trying to binge watch your favorite show…again.

The idea runs away with you. Demands your attention.

And then something more sinister knocks on the door.

It’s your good friend Doubt. And it is louder than a party of underaged kids on spring break. It demands to know:

Who will read my book?
Is my story even worth telling?
Why would anyone care about my life?

If you’ve ever wondered who will read your story — especially if you’re thinking about writing a memoir or a book about your life — you’re not alone.

But you may be asking the wrong question.

The better question isn’t, “Who will read this?” It’s, “Who will recognize themselves in what I’ve lived?”

Who Will Read My Book If I’m Not Famous?

One of the biggest fears people have when writing a memoir or personal book is “I’m not famous. Why would anyone read this?”

Most readers are not looking for celebrity. They’re looking for connection.

They don’t need your exact career path or life circumstances. They’re not searching for someone who built your company, survived your hardship, or lived your timeline. They’re looking for emotional recognition.

They don’t need your promotion and audience clapping moments. They need the time you sat in your car afterward and wondered if it would ever feel like enough.

They don’t need to have been there for your diagnosis. They need to connect with the fear that crept in when the room went quiet and your support had dissipated.

Instead of asking, “Will my book will sell?,” ask “Will anyone relate to this?”

If you’re honest they will.

With Book Ghostwriting & Story Development, this is often where our conversations begin — not with market size, but with emotional clarity.

Is My Story Worth Telling?

If you feel compelled to write, that compulsion matters.

Books don’t resonate because they’re dramatic. They resonate because they’re specific.

It’s the single glove on the side of the road after a horrific accident. The cheer that leaves your voice after a phone call that changed everything. The sound of the silence in your home after he left.

These moments become universal.

When you write with emotional precision, you stop trying to prove your story is important.

You simply tell the truth of it. And that truth is what makes a story worth reading.

Truth in Memoir: It’s Emotional, Not Literal

Another reason people hesitate to write a book about their life is fear of getting it wrong.

What if I don’t remember every detail?
What if someone disagrees with my version?
What if I can’t reconstruct everything perfectly?

Truth in memoir isn’t about recreating events like a legal document. It’s about emotional accuracy.

What did it feel like to be you in that moment? What did you believe then? What were you afraid of? What changed you?

When you write from emotional truth, you create something readers can step into.

And that’s what makes them stay.

The Moment I Knew Writing Could Do More

I remember the first time I felt what real connection on the page could do.

I fell in love with writing when I read A Farewell to Arms by Ernest Hemingway. There’s a scene where he describes a romantic interlude — her hair falling forward, creating a kind of tent around them. For a moment, they were hidden. Protected. Unimpacted by the world outside that small shelter.

I could see it.

But more than that — I could feel it.

It wasn’t just romance. It was safety. Intimacy. The illusion that love could pause chaos.

That scene didn’t just move me. It altered me.

It was the first time I understood that writing could do more than tell a story. It could narrate humanity.

That’s the kind of connection readers are looking for — even if they don’t know how to articulate it.

Aim for the Head Nod

When you’re writing a book — whether it’s memoir, leadership, or personal narrative — aim for this:

The nod.

The quiet moment when a reader reaches your sentence and thinks:

Yes. I’ve felt that.

They may not have lived your life. But they recognize the emotional terrain.

That nod is the real reason anyone reads something personal.

So Who Will Read Your Book?

Someone who has:

  • tried to be strong and gotten tired
  • started over and felt embarrassed
  • achieved something and still felt restless
  • lost something and struggled to name the grief
  • wondered if their story mattered

In other words:

Someone human.

Your reader is not a demographic category. (That’s marketing and it’s something we’ll address in the editing phase.)

Your reader is a person waiting for language.

And when you write honestly enough, clearly enough, bravely enough — they find you.

The right sentence can become shelter for someone you’ve never met.

If You’re Afraid to Start Writing

You don’t have to believe in the entire manuscript yet.

Start with one honest page.

If you’re wondering how to write a book about your life, begin with a moment you still feel in your body.

Write it cleanly.
Without performance.
Without trying to impress anyone.

Because sometimes a sentence can do what that scene in A Farewell to Arms did for me.

It can become a small, invisible shelter — a moment apart from the world.

Ready to Shape Your Story Strategically?

If you feel the pull to write but aren’t sure how to shape it into something powerful, that’s exactly where strategic storytelling begins.

This is the work I do through Book Ghostwriting & Story Development and Thought Leadership Ghostwriting — helping leaders, founders, and individuals translate lived experience into books and essays that connect deeply and endure.

If you’re ready to explore what your story could become, you can start the conversation here.

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Why Work With a Ghostwriter?

Most people have a story worth telling. Few have the time—or the emotional distance—to tell it well.

Maybe you have a coaching or speaking business and you need to distill your brilliance into a commodity you can sell.

That’s where a ghostwriter comes in.

Working with a professional ghostwriter isn’t about handing off your story. It’s about collaboration. A good ghostwriter listens for what you mean as much as what you say.

They translate lived experience into clear, compelling language that readers—and publishers—can connect with.

For leaders and entrepreneurs, a ghostwriter can help shape ideas into a book that builds credibility and legacy. For survivors and storytellers, it’s a way to turn memory into meaning without getting lost in the emotions or structure.

You’re not outsourcing your voice. You’re partnering with someone who can amplify it—so your message lands exactly as you intended.

Because a well-told story doesn’t just share what happened. It shows who you are—and why it matters.

Are you ready to get started? If so, contact me today.

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Being a Writer Is Hard

writer

Writing is hard. Not terminal illness or losing a best friend hard. Okay, it’s not really hard at all.

But ideas are.

Ideas and the time in seat that it requires to hammer out nouns and verbs that agree. Not to mention sticking in a few things to make English teachers go “hmmm.”

That’s hard.

I’m one of the fortunate word slingers. I don’t get writer’s block. There’s a list of 20+ future novels in my notes app on my phone, not to mention all the scrap papers and cocktail napkins that I’ve written my endearing brilliance on. Half of which I can’t read. My handwriting is that bad, despite years in Catholic school with nuns helping me practice penmanship. I must’ve ignored them in much the same way I did my elementary school teachers when they tried to teach me the metric system. I told them it would never take hold in the US. Yes, I was a curmudgeon even then.

But if your head doesn’t resemble my book idea circus, I have a tip for you.

Go someplace that requires your attention on something outside of your own brain like a business meeting, a parent/teacher conference, or your child’s recounting of their latest video game feat. 

As they drone on and on, thoughts will begin to percolate. Ideas will vie for your attention. 

Listen.

Write that %#$* down.

If they ask, tell them you are taking notes on the conversation so you can refer to it later. Throw in a self-deprecating joke about your memory. Most people enjoy that kind of attention.

If you want to be more creative, have your pick of book or story ideas, and put an end to writer’s block with the same vigor that Jon Snow slayed Daenrys, you’re going to love my new project, Creative Fugue. 

Stay tuned for more details. Or don’t. Whatever.

On second thought, you should. You really should.

Let’s stay in touch.

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The Writing Career Path

When I was 7, I wanted to be two things in life: a writer and a mom.

I am one of the fortunate ones who has had her dreams come true even if I plodded through a very thick, overgrown path to get there.

The author at six, on the right

I’m not going to talk about my path to motherhood. That’s a different type of genre, after all.

But I will tell you how I became a writer.

First, I wanted to. That’s the important part. You have to want to be a writer because you certainly don’t chose this life for the monetary reward, the glamor, the people you’ll meet along the way, or the extravagant business trips.

Writing is a solitary life full of creative problem solving like how you’re going to pay your next bill. Many of us take jobs on the side. Even the famous among us. Well, not Stephen King or JK Rowling. But look at a list of traditionally published authors and you’ll see a lot of teachers, professors, and other jobs cluttering up their resumes. Very few of us are full-time fiction writers. I’m a marketing writer, for instance. I write website copy and articles when I’m not making up tales.

But I digress.

I didn’t go into this blindly. I knew the difficulty behind becoming a writer in a world where people no longer read anything lengthier than a tweet.

Oh. You’re still here? You’re one of the 1%!

When my godmother asked me what I wanted to be when I grew up and I announced my intentions, she said…

and I remember this so clearly. I can’t tell you why I got up and just walked into this room but I can clearly remember she said…

“You sure do have your head in the clouds.”

Another one of my parents’ friends suggested I follow in my parents’ footsteps and go into medicine but frankly, I’ve never been that caring and selfless of a person.

Later, my father told me to find a job I could live off of. Well, that knocked out writer.

So I tried to divert my energies into other ways writers could make money.

I worked writing:

  • ceremonial documents for the governor
  • disaster recovery plans
  • fashion descriptions for a home shopping channel
  • marketing collateral for a tech firm

These jobs all paid the bills, but they didn’t feed my soul and that’s a luxury most of us Americans long for. I could never shake the desire to do my own thing.

At one point I worked for a publishing company that published college textbooks. Every year before school started, you would swear you could smell brimstone in the office. Dante knows what I’m talking about. It became hellish.

And there was one particular salesperson who took his dissatisfaction with life out on me. Now, I’m not a perfectionist but I take pride in my work and this particular ripping got to me.

I swore at that moment that I wasn’t going to listen to one more angry anyone. I quit my job about two weeks later.

I’d like to tell you I’ve been writing successfully ever since but it took another 10 years and another shove from the universe masked in “the department is going in a different direction” in the tech company I was working for to get me doing my own thing.

So this whole convoluted blog post was written to tell you this:

sometimes your crappiest experiences are laying the groundwork for you becoming the person you want to be.