Essays on Writing Craft and Mindset
by Maggie Frank-Hsu
How long does it take to write a book?
It’s a simple question. Seems like it should come with a simple answer. But of course it depends. Some books take six months to write and some take six years and some take longer. (Just ask Robert Caro. Or George R.R. Martin.) I published my own book last year, I’m ghostwriting and book coaching for others, and I have edited and copy edited books as a freelancer.
It’s a simple question. Seems like it should come with a simple answer.
But of course it depends.
Some books take six months to write and some take six years and some take longer. (Just ask Robert Caro. Or George R.R. Martin.)
I published my own book last year, I’m ghostwriting and book coaching for others, and I have edited and copy edited books as a freelancer. So that’s the experience I’m speaking from. Setting aside externally imposed deadlines, here are a few things I think determine how long it takes.
1. The size of your ambition. What are you trying to accomplish with your book? It’s OK NOT to aim for world peace or to describe the unifying theory of everything.
The bigger your ambition, the longer the book’s going to take. That’s not writerly wisdom; it’s just math. The more you want to accomplish, the more time you’ll need. When you have big ambition, you end up with a lot of raw material. I love this essay by Caro because it shares a great example of that.
Even if you’re a confident writer, this organization stage—deciding what goes where, and crucially WHY things go where they go—just takes a long time when you have a lot of stuff you’re trying to say.
2. Clarity. A lot of people, (including Caro in this review) talk about knowing the book’s ending. When they knew the ending, the rest came together more quickly. With clarity like that, you make fewer trips down side roads that you thought were the main road. If you don’t have clarity, you can write your way to it. (I talk a lot about the process of writing your way to clarity in my book, Be About Something.)
3. Improving your estimates so you don’t frustrate yourself. You’re going to get interrupted a lot. Having kids makes it worse. But today, my kids are in daycare, and still I am getting interrupted dozens of times. I’m sitting outside because we don’t have internet outside. I figured that would improve my focus. But now that I’m out here I’m noticing hummingbirds whose red-orange necks shimmer in sunlight. Never seen them before.
Most interruptions are not that charming and a lot of them come from inside your own mind. You can shut off the internet, but what the heck do you do about your brain?
If you can’t beat ’em, join ’em. “Join ’em" means getting to know how often you’re interrupted and how long it takes for you to reset your focus. On average.
As with almost all other big projects, you will overestimate how much you can get done in a day, in a week, in a month. Recalibrate your estimates based on what you learn from observing your writing sessions. Don’t base your estimates on arbitrary, theoretical expectations that you can’t meet and then beat yourself up for “falling behind.”
Ta-da! THAT’S how long it takes to write a book.
OK. No! But! These are the variables that determine how long it takes. As a ghostwriter, I don’t just write the book. I also account for these variables. It’s part of what I love about this book-writing partnership between my clients and me.
M
Treat your writing like a pursuit, not a requirement.
Something about me that I don’t usually lead with: I had an eating disorder for years, and that included a complementary obsession with over-exercising. (An obsession that, by the way, our society normalizes, encourages, and lauds. “Go hard or go home” and all that.)
Something about me that I don't usually lead with:
I had an eating disorder for years, and that included a complementary obsession with over-exercising. (An obsession that, by the way, our society normalizes, encourages, and lauds. “Go hard or go home” and all that.)
Anyway, because of what I’ve learned from that experience, nowadays when I commit to a certain type of workout regimen or sport, I check in with myself regularly.
Am I doing this exercise because I like this exercise? The answer has to be YES or else I give myself license to quit.
(Note: I said ‘license.’ I don’t always quit, I just remind myself I have the option.)
I found myself doing a really difficult indoor cycling workout a couple of weeks ago.
Huffing, puffing, struggling to finish the interval. Sweating all over the handlebars. Checking in with myself.
Am I doing this exercise because I like this exercise?
“Well, brain, it depends on what you mean by ‘like,’ " I told myself. "Am I loving this moment? No. But I know I want to stick with it.
Why? I don’t usually like to “go hard.” But that day, I was feeling it.
Then, as if in response, the workout app I was using flashed this line across the screen as a I was ramping up for another hard push:
Treat the next interval like a pursuit, not a requirement.
A Pursuit. Not a requirement.
I write a lot about ways to make your writing process more fun so you'll stick with it. But I realize that no one can find writing fun all the time.
Sometimes writing is a slog. Sometimes we’re huffing and puffing and the finish line is close but it feels far away. Sometimes the finish line is just far away and that’s why it feels far away.
If you’re writing a book, and you get to this point, how do you decide you want to stick with the slog? How do you decide you want to take a break? Or quit?
I don’t know!
Because, when you treat your writing goal as a pursuit, not a requirement, that means only you can answer those questions. YOU DECIDE.
No one else is making you do it. No one else can tell you whether taking a break will refresh you or whether you’ll never come back to that book. Only you know.
Maggie
Why I keep writing even though my childcare is 💩
Childcare has gone from something that was pretty accessible, if incredibly expensive, for middle-class Americans like me, to a thing that is still expensive, but also uncertain, and inaccessible for days and sometimes weeks. And I continue to work within my ghostwriting and editing business.
Childcare has gone from something that was pretty accessible, if incredibly expensive, for middle-class Americans like me, to a thing that is still expensive, but also uncertain, and inaccessible for days and sometimes weeks.
And I continue to work within my ghostwriting and editing business. Just to give you a glamorous behind-the-scenes peek:
It’s like trying to work while someone is standing 6 inches from your face, constantly on the verge of screaming.
Bright side: they’re not always screaming in your face. But they always could scream.
Who can work like that?
…
Well, me. I can. Not all the time. Certainly not always at my best. But sometimes I can.
Why? I mean, the how is logistics and I’m sure those look different for everyone.
But, why? Why am I writing and publishing articles through so much uncertainty? My work hours are limited, Bonus! They are also unpredictable.
I also don’t get paid to write my own stuff. So I should be focused on client work alone, and shut everything else down. Right?
I am focused on client work. But I also continue to write. Not because I should. Not because I’ll feel guilty if I don’t.
When I write, I unleash my life force. And that feels good. And just like I wrote way back in April (remember when it was the end of April 2020 and we felt like we’d been dealing with COVID for a long time)…
Ahem.
As I was saying, in April 2020 I said:
Fun is not frivolous just because it feels good.
From my April essay -
Fun, as Esther Perel notes, is not just “trivial, or an aside, but is actually one of the most powerful antidotes to death. … Play, connection to anything that celebrates life like that, curiosity, imagination, exploration, pleasure are actually survival tools. They are that essential to our.. sense of hope.”
--
TLDR. I write because it’s fun.
I’ve talked to you and I know a lot of you don’t think writing’s fun.
But I’m really starting to suspect that’s because you’re doing it wrong.
HA! You might be. Just entertain the possibility. You might be doing it wrong.
I should know. I used to do it wrong, too. For 20 years or so. I did things like tell myself I was waiting for the right time. Someone just brought up the “right time” to me yesterday: “I keep saying when my kids are older. I’ll write a book.” Been there, commenter from my Linkedin post!
But the right time never comes. I know you know that. But I mean it.
You pick.
Pick the year, then the month, then the week, then the day, then the hour. And you start.
I started to find the fun in writing a couple of years ago by writing in very short stints. Say, 5 minutes. 2x a week.
You’re not sure you have anything to say. You can’t find out unless you start to write. The things that are on your mind need to mix with air to make sense. That process can include fun and pleasure.
And when it does, you won’t want to let some pesky world catastrophe separate you from that.
Maggie
PS: You pick.
My book can guide some of your first 5-minute writing sessions. You can buy that guidance here.
If you already have it, dust it off and start with Exercise 1. XOXO
You don't need to be a celebrity to hire a ghostwriter
Before I started ghostwriting books, I thought that ghostwriters were just for celebrities, or at least corporate executives who didn’t have time to write their own book. Then, I had a ghostwriting mentor who told me that she turned down a contract like that once.
Before I started ghostwriting books, I thought that ghostwriters were just for celebrities, or at least corporate executives who didn't have time to write their own book.
Then, I had a ghostwriting mentor who told me that she turned down a contract like that once.
She had read the brief on what this high profile CEO wanted - a memoir filled with his hard-earned business acumen. His assistant revealed that Mr. CEO couldn't give the ghostwriter any of his time. He was ready to hire her, but she should know she'd probably only meet him once.
So my mentor said no. "He can't devote the time it takes to get the book he wants."
(#legend)
When I dove into my first ghostwriting project, I could see exactly why she had declined the project.
A ghostwriter doesn't just write words. The right ghostwriter extracts the contents of the client's head, spreads them on a clean work surfaces, and picks out the morsels that belong in a book.
Yes, I save my clients lots of time and the pain of having to sit in front of a blank screen.
But the client gets more than some extra time and avoided pain.
The right ghostwriter helps her client:
1. highlight the valuable parts of their story that they've discounted or just plain ignored.
2. cut the parts of their story that will bore everyone besides her client.
More examples of 1 and 2 are in this video I shared on Linkedin.
Get some rest and be well this week. <3
Maggie
Your Big Idea is worthwhile--even if you don't think it's original
You probably think you know what I’m going to say, but it’s worth repeating regularly. As women in business, we take on so much personal responsibilty for every success and failure. And it’s true, we are responsible. But there’s a fascinating lager context to it all. In our society, the man’s role is to create, build, produce, trailblaze.
You probably think you know what I'm going to say, but it's worth repeating regularly. As women in business, we take on so much personal responsibilty for every success and failure.
And it's true, we are responsible.
But there's a fascinating lager context to it all.
In our society, the man’s role is to create, build, produce, trailblaze. The women’s role is to maintain, sustain, nurture.
Guess which function is higher-paid and more highly valued? 🙄
"In the context of health and ecology, things that grow unchecked are often considered parasitic or cancerous. Yet we inhabit a culture that privileges novelty and growth over the cyclical and the regenerative. Our very idea of productivity is premised on the idea of producing something new, whereas we do not tend to see maintenance and care as productive in the same way." - Jenny Odell
Womxn are the gender tasked with maintenance.
And it’s not that maintenance is not productive.
It’s not even that maintenance is not creative. (If you garden, you know that maintenance is very creative.)
It's that our society doesn’t place enough value on maintenance both in terms of how productive or how creative they are.
Since we comprise our society, we can change this! But we have to recognize it first.
Our very idea of productivity is premised on the idea of producing something new, whereas we do not tend to see maintenance and care as productive in the same way.
It’s ironic because great ideas aren’t always (or even mostly) new ideas.
They are almost always the combination of existing ideas, or a bunch of existing ideas seen from a new angle. A Big Idea must often blossoms from the gathering and tending of a bunch of existing ideas. (Again with the gardening.)
That’s what it means to stand on the shoulders of those who came before us.
But because of the novelty/maintenance divide, as women when we have a Big Idea, we don’t even see it as valuable because it’s not wholly, completely new.
We have the Big Ideas. Just as many Big Ideas as men do. We need to see our ideas are worthy of making their way to the marketplace.
XO,
Maggie
Writing is like a climbing a tall tower.
A couple of people have said to me recently that when they know what they want to write about, then they’ll start to dedicate more time to writing. You know how I feel about that. I know you know (especially if you’re a long-time reader) that you have to sit down and write first! Do the thing and blah blah blah.
A couple of people have said to me recently that when they know what they want to write about, then they’ll start to dedicate more time to writing.
You know how I feel about that.
I know you know (especially if you’re a long-time reader) that you have to sit down and write first! Do the thing and blah blah blah. But I really want you to sit with this knowledge.
***
You see, my friend, writing is like climbing a tall tower.
Not because it’s really difficult and annoying (if you’re taking the stairs, har har).
But because of the view.
Before you start writing, it’s like you’re at the bottom of the tower. You can’t see the view at all.
What view? There is no view.
As you ascend, the view begins to appear. The higher you climb (AKA the more you write) the more you can see. When you’re partway to the top, you can see a lot. But not as much as you can see if you climb higher.
If you’ve ever been lucky enough to climb the Eiffel Tower, you know exactly what I mean. It’s an OK view from the first platform. It's a better view from the second platform. But the BEST view comes from the very tippy top.
In fact, you can see so much more from the tippy top that the views from lower down now seem pitiful by comparison.
With each step, you rise, with each step, you see more, and the more you see the more clarity you gain. You literally see a clearer and clearer “big picture.”
That’s writing. The ideas are not going to come to you while you wait. I know. I know you know.
But have you sat with it?
- Maggie
PS: How to find the time to write? A couple of months ago I wrote about “slivers” of time. They’re not big, beautiful chunky hours, but they’re still time. They’re those 10- or 15-minute lopped off end-pieces between meetings or when you’ve done the last thing for the workday but you still have a bit of work time left.
The time you might spend scrolling on your phone. Throwaway time. (Sometimes, you do just need to throw that time away. Your brain needs margin and white space.)
But, I wondered, what if you promised yourself that for the next 7 days, you’d write for two slivers per day?
Two slivers = Two 15-minute increments = 30 minutes of writing time a day for seven days. Three hours a week (if you hit 6 days out of 7).
Did you try it when I talked about here it back in June? Either way, why not try it this week?
A good idea + a good story does not = a good book
I’m speeding through the book Profit First by Mike Michalowicz after I had avoided coming anywhere near this book for the past three years. Despite the fact that no less than 12 small business owners recommended it to me over that time.
I’m speeding through the book Profit First by Mike Michalowicz after I had avoided coming anywhere near this book for the past three years. Despite the fact that no less than 12 small business owners recommended it to me over that time.
All kinds of blocks stopped me from taking their advice. “I’m just a freelancer,” I would tell myself. “That sounds like a thing you need if you have employees.”
Well finally, I started it. And as soon as I saw the title for chapter 1, I saw the answer to the question, “Why have a dozen entrepreneurs recommended this book to me in three years? Why is it so popular?”
I’m talking about the real answer here. You might answer the book is clear or useful or that the method works, and that’s why it’s got such great word of mouth.
Those things—clear, useful, effective—are probably all true! But, many people have written clear, useful, effective books for organizing business finances (and personal finances). And I notice people don’t pass around those other books as much.
Clear, useful, and effective are NOT the reasons people recommend Profit First so often to each other. You've got to have more than a good idea, and more than a good story, even, to get that kind of word of mouth.
So what is the real answer?
.
.
.
The answer is SUSPENSE.
Michalowicz doesn’t start the book with Chapter 2, the chapter wherein he explains what the Profit First method is and how he discovered and developed it.
He starts with chapter 1: “Your Business is an Out-of-Control Cash-Eating Monster.” That is literally the title of chapter 1. You know why? Because that title (and the whole chapter) causes questions to well up in the reader. Such as:
IS IT? Oh shit!
Why didn’t I know that?
I actually feel like I’m doing OK financially. I check my bank balance every day and it seems… Wait. He’s saying constantly checking your bank balance every day is useless to determining your business’s overall financial health. Oh shit!
And finally: Well, if I shouldn’t be doing that stuff, then what do I do instead??
Bingo. Checkmate. YAHTZEE.
Now, he’s gotten you to care. You really care about finding out the answers to these questions. As you roll into chapter 2, you’re reading about this method not just to ***acquire information (zzzzzz)***, but to close an open loop in your brain. To relieve yourself of the suspense of not knowing the answers.
Yes, the answers themselves have to be clear, useful, and effective. But the way they’re revealed—that’s STRUCTURE.
You can have a great idea that people need, and you can even be a good storyteller, but if you don't structure your book in a way that makes people turn page after page, they're aren't going to!
If you thought suspense was only for crime novels and Dan Brown? Start thinking again.
I’m going to finish reading Profit First. Then I’m going to write a teardown of the whole book. Not a critique but a teardown. (Look it up.) Look for that soon!
-Maggie
Reader question! How do I incorporate feedback on my writing?
She asks: “How do you deal with negative feedback that requests improvement, but perhaps isn't specific on how to improve?”
I’ve written before about receiving feedback. My advice was “don’t.” ??
Seriously. Don’t.
People can lob their feedback over the fence. (Maybe you even asked them to!) But whether you asked or not, you do not have to pick it up off the ground just because it landed on your side.
You don't have to receive things just because they're given.
(And if like me, you can’t stop yourself from soliciting feedback, then consider creating a small circle of 1-3 people whose only feedback ever is “It’s good! ? Keep going.”)
***
But what if you have no choice? That’s my reader’s question. She’s writing for work, and her boss has appointed themselves editor.
She asks: “How do you deal with negative feedback that requests improvement, but perhaps isn't specific on how to improve?
Well, ::rubs hands together:: get me a bucket list and cross this one off! I’ve always wanted to write an advice column. (Dreams do come true!)
Here we go.
***
Dear Reader/Bucket List Dream Granter,
1. Triple-check with yourself that you have to incorporate this feedback.
Do you have to edit your work based on this feedback?
Can you instead nod sagely as your boss plays out their repressed-artist editorial fantasy and then do whatever you want?
Let’s say the answer’s no. You do have to change your writing.
2. Unpack.
In your letter you said you got a lot of feedback. Your copy was all marked up with red. But a lot of feedback is not specific feedback.
Specific feedback explains not that they don't like a thing, but why a thing doesn't work, and even better: what they would prefer instead.
(BTW, I can’t resist sharing one of my favorite pieces of non-specific feedback from a boss who has no idea what he is talking about. At least he was nice about it.)
3. Take appropriate action.
If you’re getting a lot of non-specific feedback from a boss who is also insisting you incorporate their feedback, what do you do next? You asked me if you should look at changing your voice or your style.
Neither, because editing the work is not the next step. Any reviewer is of course entitled not to like something, but a writer can't act on such feedback. If your boss wants to be not a reviewer but an editor, they need to do something. Which means you need to do something else.
So, I’d focus on how you can get new instructions you can act on. Can you talk together with the piece in front of you? Change the way you work on the project? (Maybe they write an outline first.) Compromise in some other way?
If your boss can’t do this for you, we’re out of my wheelhouse and it’s time to consult a different advice-giving professional.
***
In any case, as you navigate, maybe it’ll bring you a little comfort to know that whatever happens...
your writing is safe,
as long as you remind yourself that the problem doesn't stem from your writing, but from a power dynamic.
So many of us writers shut down production because of power and the people who abuse it.
The comments of a sour-faced grade school teacher. Or some expert at a conference telling a shiny-faced newbie that their book idea will never sell. Or a boss who cannot be satisfied.
These people can throw you off the scent of your own writing for decades.
Your writing is safe.
You don’t have to pick up feedback just because it gets lobbed over the fence.
It’s good! ? Keep going.
- M
PS: Need guidance? I'm here. Here's an overview of how I work with clients.
Find the time to write.
A couple of posts ago, I wrote: I’m always going on about the things you need for a book project—mindset, good ideas, structure—but I’m realizing I never mention the elephant in the room: You need time.
A couple of posts ago, I wrote:
I'm always going on about the things you need for a book project—mindset, good ideas, structure—but I’m realizing I never mention the elephant in the room:
You need time.
You need time to think and time to write and time to procrastinate because you're not a writing robot.
***
Then I promised I’d share “tips” for finding the time. Shoulda known better. ?♀️
Because, today I wrote a long, prescriptive thing telling you to do less. You only have so many hours.
It's MATH, (bro). Simple!
Except once I wrote it, it sounded kind of condescending and boring, and so I decided I’m not sending you that one.
***
Instead, I’ll tell you two *super-scientific* ways of thinking about time that have helped me.
1. Big chunks
2. Tiny slivers
I started writing consistently with tiny slivers of time before I moved to carving out big chunks.
Tiny slivers are those 10- or 15-minute lopped off end-pieces of time. You don’t have to use every single one of those slivers to write each day.
But what about every other sliver? Or every third sliver?
What about spending one work day counting how many slivers you have, without attempting to do anything with the slivers themselves?
OK, let’s pretend you did that already. Let’s pretend you ended up with six that day. Six slivers.
What about promising yourself that for the next seven days, you’ll write for two slivers each day?
Two slivers = Two 15-minute increments = 30 minutes of writing time a day for seven days. Three and a half hours in a week.
Or what if you write during just one sliver a day? Write for 15 minutes a day and see what comes out.
***
No matter how many times you use your slivers (20 times, one time, I don’t care): Pay attention to what comes out.
Does any of it delight you?
For me, the secret to allotting more time to writing has been first
1. to allot slivers of time to writing, and then
2. to discover that I ENJOY what comes out. (Whether “what comes out” is a good piece of writing or just the experience of writing.)
***
Buy a Roomba. Get up an hour earlier. Do every time-management trick in the books.
Those tricks don’t change the fact that the top 2 (perhaps 3) things on your list of priorities get your time consistently.
The further down the list, the less consistently the other things get your time.
That means, your writing needs to find its way UP your To-Do list.Things like laundry and guilting yourself for letting your kids watch extra YouTube need to cede rank.
Writing needs to climb over those bad boys. It's MATH.
Enjoyment/pleasure/delight are To-Do List SEO! (Holy moly, ::runs to reserve http://todolistseo.com:: )
Anyway, when I started, writing wasn’t paying me and no one was setting me a deadline, which meant that only pleasure and enjoyment could help writing worm its way up my list.
That’s my tip.
PS: Ever wonder where I find the time to write my letter to you? I write the first draft in 45 minutes each week at Writer’s Cave. You can get 12 weeks of Writer’s Cave, and get my book Be About Something along with it, here:
https://maggiefrankhsu.com/be-about-something/
It’s normally $47 but it’s on sale in June for $39. Happy Summer!
The One Thing You Need to Write Your Book On Your Own
Why do people decide to work with a ghostwriter instead of writing their book on their own? I gave a talk last week where I answered this question. I get it a lot and I’ve answered it in print before, too. There’s one glaringly obvious reason I didn’t explore in that article: People hire us because they don’t have time to write their book.
Why do people decide to work with a ghostwriter instead of writing their book on their own?
I gave a talk last week where I answered this question. I get it a lot and I’ve answered it in print before, too.
There’s one glaringly obvious reason I didn’t explore in that article:
People hire us because they don’t have time to write their book.
I'm always going on about the things you need for a book project—mindset, good ideas, structure, a very sturdy connection to your intrinsic motivation—but I’m realizing I never mention the elephant in the room:
You need time.
You need time to think and time to write and time to procrastinate because you're not a writing robot.
You also need time to pass within the project so that your ideas can develop and mature.
Writing is basically a fermentation process.
(AKA, don’t write your book in a week while holed up in an AirBNB. Or go ahead. But then expect that some of the ideas in your book will be, you know, cabbage instead of kimchi.)
***
I’ve got some actual tips for how to make time or find the time, but before you can use those tips, you have to accept (and honor!) the fact that writing a book takes time.
I’ve spent 10, 12, even 20 hours in a given week on some book projects.
Do you have that kind of time?