Perhaps you’re
considering writing coaching, but you’re wary. Maybe you’re not sure if you need a writing coach. What even is writing coaching? What happens in a session?
I want to start by
validating these feelings and questions. Investing in ourselves, especially our creativity, can be hard, even uncomfortable. In capitalistic frameworks, creativity can seem frivolous. Not only that, but coaching is an opaque field with a large umbrella.
To bring some more comfort into this space, I’ll lay out in detail
what you can expect in a writing coaching session with me. All coaches are different, so I can only speak to my approach. If my approach isn’t what you’re looking for, I encourage you to keep exploring. Someone out there is the perfect coach for you.
A writing coaching session is 1 hour. We meet on a video call (unless you live in DFW and prefer in person!). Together, we dig into your work, but also your creative soul. What propels you to create? What stops you? Where are you struggling in your project? Where are you coming alive? How can we structure your time, attention, and practice in a way that brings forth your most magnetic work without burning you out?
We check in. This is a chance for you to tell me how things have been going and anything else I need to know. Maybe something is happening in your life that might not be directly related to your writing practice, but feels important. It is. We hold space for that.
What would you like to focus on in our session? What would you like to leave our time together with? How would you like to feel?
- Somatically exploring whatever might be interrupting your creative flow, disturbing your spirit, or affecting your intuition.
- Spending time with your words to identify value and plot direction.
Sometimes we venture into both of these terrains in the same session, depending on our aim. Let me break them down further for you.
Using my yoga training and open-ended questions, I guide you into accessing your body’s wisdom. This happens at your pace and comfort level. It’s a powerful method for making our writing practice more embodied. You’ll be surprised, I think, at what wisdom your body holds. And how it deepens, complicates, and liberates your writing practice.
When I read your work, I’m not looking for problems. I’m looking for value.
What I won’t do is:
- Tell you what direction you should take
- Tell you how you should change what you wrote
- Any other shoulds
What I will do is:
- Tell you what I value about your work
- Tell you what other books, poems, films, art, etc. your work makes me think of
- Tell you how I experienced reading your work
- Ask you questions about what you chose to do and why, where you imagine your piece going, where you’re still exploring, and more
- Offer optional reading, research, and exploratory exercises for you to use as creative inspiration
Why I do feedback this way:
Your voice and taste are unique to you. It would be a disservice to the world for me to squelch your powerful individuality with my own inclinations or overarching cultural inclinations. I’m not trying to make you write like me or like any other writer. I’m guiding you as you write more like yourself.
I’ll summarize what we covered. Then we’ll discuss what you can do moving forward. This can be a solution to a problem either in mind, body, spirit, or creative work. In other words, we take our work together and we distill it into feasible action.
I will send you a handwritten letter in the mail. This will be a check-in, or a love note, or a pondering. A place for me to share how I’m thinking about you and your practice. You can write back if it feels creatively generating. I love hearing from you. In all ways, I love this way of exchanging words. It brings us off to our computers and into something more intimate and ancient.
You can also join the
Creative Common Room to set aside structured time to work alongside others.
