Why I Hired a Book Coach

Writing a novel sounds romantic in theory—early mornings spent sipping coffee, wrapped in a cozy blanket, a grapefruit pine candle burning on the desk, lost in a world of my own creation. And some days, it really does feel like that. 

But most days? It’s messy. My desk is buried in notes, books, and printouts—and somehow, when the space is cluttered, my brain feels the same way. I tell myself I’ll be able to write the next chapter once I’ve cleared my desk, sorted the sticky notes, or reorganized my research stack for the hundredth time. An hour might pass and I’d still be staring at the blinking cursor—scenes and ideas swirling in my head—knowing exactly where the story is going eventually, but having no idea what needs to happen today to get it there.

I could see the turning point just over the hill—that pivotal moment that changes everything. But I didn’t always know what my main character, Clara, was doing on that particular morning—who she was with, what she was facing, or what quiet moment might carry her forward. That kind of uncertainty, paired with the mess of half-scribbled notes and loosely organized research, became anxiety-inducing.

I was still committed. Still showing up each day. But instead of waking up excited to write, I’d open my eyes and already be dreading the blank page. I’d end up finding ways to feel productive that didn’t actually move the writing forward at all.

I was afraid to make the wrong move, to write a scene that didn’t belong, to somehow mess it up beyond repair. I’d sit there frozen, second-guessing everything—because I care about this story so much, and I didn’t want to get it wrong.

Plot Holes and Panic

It turns out that having an idea and executing that idea are two very different things. I had scenes I was excited to write. I had historical details I couldn’t wait to weave in. But trying to figure out where those scenes belonged, or why they were happening when they did—or who even needed to be in them—was a whole different challenge.

I kept telling myself it would come together eventually. That I’d figure it out as I went. That I’d find my rhythm. After spending a few too many mornings wasting precious time spiraling into self-doubt and re-organizing my desk, I learned something about myself: I can absolutely write without a plan—but I don’t enjoy writing that way.

Plotters vs. Pantsers (Apparently I’m a Plantser)

In the writing world, there are two kinds of writers: Pantsers and Plotters. Well, three kinds now—because I fall somewhere in the middle.

Pantsers write by the seat of their pants. They discover the story as they go and trust the process to guide them. 

Plotters, on the other hand, need a roadmap. They like to know where we’re headed before they begin the journey. 

I always figured I was a Pantser. It just sounds spontaneous, free, unburdened. And honestly, that’s how I’ve lived most of my life. I’ve never been much of a planner when it comes to big-picture direction. I tend to follow curiosity wherever it leads, often distracted by shiny ideas or metaphorical squirrels darting across my path. And I’ve always really enjoyed chasing those glittering squirrels into new experiences, meeting new people, and letting life surprise me along the way.

But the truth is, writing without a clear plan left me flailing a bit–and I didn’t love it. I wanted structure. I wanted someone to help guide me—to make sure I was staying on course and building something solid. More than anything, I wanted to know that the work I was pouring myself into wasn’t just going to get ripped apart with red ink down the line and tossed aside. I wanted to be sure it mattered—that it was working.

So, when I discovered there was such a thing: I hired a book coach.

Enter: The Book Coach

I interviewed about five different coaches. All of them were incredible—smart, encouraging, and deeply experienced. But there was one coach in particular who I just immediately felt was the right fit for me and this particular project. Lindsey Alexander from The Reading List immediately understood the vision I had for this book. She asked thoughtful questions. She didn’t just listen—she heard me. I got off our discovery call and felt calm, clear-headed, and excited—not anxious—for the work that lay ahead.

Lindsey has been coaching me since January 2025, and since then, I’ve felt more confident, more energized, and genuinely excited to return to the process each day. Most importantly, she keeps me accountable—to both my goals and my progress. She keeps me focused even when a whole scurry of squirrels coated in gold glitter come sprinting across the trail, begging to be chased.

What’s Changed Since January

I wake up excited to get to write, not anxious about what might come next. I know what I’m writing toward. I feel steadier in the work, which means I’m enjoying the process more deeply.

I didn’t hire a coach because I lost hope. I hired one because I believe in this story. Because I’m serious about telling it well. Because in the end, I’m not just writing a novel—I’m telling a story rooted in a real time and place, inspired by real people, and I want to make sure I do it justice—every scene, every step of the way.