Being Your Full Writerly Self
Many if not most writing and professional coaches advertise their elite and selective educational backgrounds. For good reason. Selective institutions bring well-trained high school students into high performance spaces and from there develop many talented, high achieving academic writers. There is wisdom and insight to gain from coaching by such people.
That is not at all my story.
And I think it gives me a particular insight into habits of writing.

I have a modest, at best, academic pedigree. My bachelor’s degree is from Seattle University (English and Philosophy, 1991) and my master’s and doctoral degrees are from University of Memphis (Philosophy, 1996). I worked over thirty hours per week in college while completing my undergraduate degree and participation in a Great Books program. I had exceptional mentors, but I also had to learn to read, think, and write on a very different daily schedule. Working so much in college meant that I rarely had extended time to sit and read and contemplate, much less sit and fuss over an essay for hours and hours at a time. So, I needed to develop habits that allowed me to stay afloat financially and to excel as a student.
Those undergraduate habits, which consisted of reading and writing in the cracks of my day instead of across long periods, carried over into my graduate program and is no small reason why I was able to finish my doctoral degree in four and a half years.
As I entered the profession and cycled through heavy teaching load jobs, I found that the habits and writerly values I developed as an undergraduate meant everything to me as a young professor. Navigating the strangeness of suddenly being a full time professor, a heavy teaching load, learning how to be a committee member, moving to new places and making new friendships, then later dealing emotionally intensive relationships, children, management of aging parents – all of this makes writing difficult precisely when it is urgently needed for tenure, promotion, and broad professional advancement. And it was here where I fell back on my undergraduate habits and writerly values of discrete composition, patient accumulation of word count, and confidence in my long term vision of projects.
The result is seven authored books and over half a dozen edited books and journal issues, as well as lead editor of a journal, co-editor of a book series, and co-founder and co-host of a successful professional podcast.
Those markers of successful writing have roots in my days of heavy teaching loads. But when I moved on to research teaching loads, I still needed those habits and values. In fact, I needed them more than ever. Life has a way of always taxing your time and making focused writing difficult. Practicing consistent word count production, patient development of a project, and most importantly managing the emotional life of writing is paramount. Remember that we all have (or are about to have) PhDs. We are all smart enough and capable of being successful writers! But writing is only partly an intellectual question. It is also, if not mostly, an emotional event. This is why frustrated writing can leave us despondent and chip away at our self-esteem. It is also why successful writing days, weeks, and months feel like real ecstasy and joy. Habits, consistency, and a balanced writerly emotional life are what make us successful writers and, most importantly of all, happy human beings who write.
This is what I bring to our collaborative work on your projects. Conceiving, implementing, and then cultivating how habits and values fit your life and writerly aspirations. The result with be that book with your name on the cover and something of your soul in the pages. The result is happiness in our successes and joyful anticipation of next projects.




