What does a book coach do?
Well, let’s see. Over the course of one recent week, I read 50 pages from two different writers, made dozens of suggestions in the comments and wrote each of them a four-page editorial letter going into depth about what’s working in their pages, what’s not quite hanging together yet, and next steps.
I exchanged excited emails with a client who had just pitched their first agent.
I worked on that same client’s annotated table of contents—a key part of their book proposal, which follows the pitch and gives more detail about the project: who it’s for, size of the audience, table of contents, recent book titles that prove there’s a market, a tight plan for selling it. I researched statistics about the size of the sector the book targets so we can include them in the audience analysis.
We talked a bit about who might be a good person to write the foreword: Should it be someone everybody knows? Or should it be someone who’s got a lot of experience with the book’s topic?
I encouraged one of my writers to buy a Stephen King book—any one will do—to examine the masterful way King handles a character’s interior monologue (thought). We decided Christine would be a good one; it’s older, more raw, classic King when he was at the top of his game. I ordered it too, because I haven’t read Christine since Grade 8 and I think it’s my favourite. I want to have it on hand so I can walk my writer through a few examples next time we meet. They’re writing a memoir, but you’d be surprised how much scene-writing and dialogue good memoir and nonfiction requires.
[Update: I did order it, I did read it, I did enjoy it…and I realized I’ve since found better handling of character interiority. Also, I was really surprised at how poorly female characters are portrayed—hadn’t remembered that part. Bummer.]
I listened and nodded as one of my writers groaned about the length of their to-do list. Nobody tells you this at the start, but a book is a HUGE project with a lot of considerations beyond just getting the words on the page.
I cried when I read the part of one client’s chapter detailing the quiet, gentle, accompanied death of their much-loved dog. That was something. I don’t cry much, and I respect a passage that brings me to my knees.
I had a conversation with myself when one of my writers reported they’d used ChatGPT to write through the complexities of a topic they themselves don’t have expertise in. The conversation deepened when I discovered that the AI writing was great and I couldn’t distinguish it from my client’s.
That’s just a sampling of what I’m up to on a day-to-day basis.
This coming week looks like:
helping a writer shape an email to prime their audience for their long-awaited book’s release
reading a writer’s query letter to agents, marking comments and feedback, and writing a detailed editorial letter
researching independent presses and small publishers in North America that are suitable for one client’s pitch
compiling a targeted list of agents for one of my writers to approach
meeting with two other book coaches as we slowly build an association of Canadian book coaches, where authors can turn for support as they face into the headwinds of writing and selling a great book in a constantly changing industry, and
meeting with a client who’s struggling with their draft at the 2/3 mark, which is where every author I’ve ever known struggles, including myself.
This is such a great job.
The projects are diverse and engaging, and I’m always learning.
Book coaching forces me to read more—about craft and structure, sure, but I also read a lot of comp titles for my clients’ books as well as books that other coaches rave about.
It keeps my hand in the writing space where I have deep expertise, but it doesn’t require me to write all the material. (After 20 years as a freelance writer, this is a TOTAL STOKE.)
It lets me work with people who have incredible stories to tell and much-needed messages to share with the world.
Plus, I can work while lying down. In my PJs. I mean—?