Ann Kroeker, Writing Coach Ann Kroeker

When I was a child just beginning to speak, my parents drove late into the evening to the rural property they bought. As they drove up the gravel driveway, the sky spread out above us with stars glittering like a million diamonds spread out on a jeweler’s vast black velvet display.







Across the fields, a million lightning bugs hovered in the tall grass, their gleaming bodies flickering on and off.







I pointed at the sky. “’Tars!”







Then I pointed at the field. “Baby ’tars!”







Perhaps I was destined to become a poet from early on, but my confidence in landing on that perfect metaphor virtually disappeared over the years.







As a young adult, when I was writing books and blog posts, I rarely integrated metaphors into my writing, and it showed. My work was straightforward. Plainspoken. 







While there’s nothing wrong with clear writing—in fact, that’s the foundation of nonfiction according to Ayn Rand (clarity first, then jazziness, she says1)—it lacked punch and pizzazz. My writing didn’t lift off the page and sink into the imagination or heart of the reader. It lacked that magical moment where an idea or image clicks and sticks with the reader. 







Mastering Metaphors to Produce Great Writing







And I knew mastering metaphors was essential to great writing. I did write poetry in college, admiring lines like Emily Dickinson’s:









“Hope” is the thing with feathers -







That perches in the soul -2









Shakespeare’s: 









All the world’s a stage,







And all the men and women merely players;3









And Wordsworth’s: “I wandered lonely as a cloud.”4







Robert Frost said, in an interview in The Atlantic, “If you remember only one thing I've said, remember that an idea is a feat of association, and the height of it is a good metaphor. If you have never made a good metaphor, then you don't know what it's all about.”5















Practicing Metaphor: Create Clunky Metaphors to Land on Magical Metaphors







I resolved to make a good metaphor. I practiced.







My early efforts were hardly as magical as the child connecting stars to lightning bugs. Instead, they were more like a child pointing to a horse and awkwardly pronouncing, "Dog!" 







My metaphor practice felt clunkily childish instead of enchantingly childlike, but I had to make clunky comparisons to train my brain to find the oddly ideal ones that would surprise readers. 







In a Paris Review interview, William Gass said:









I love metaphor the way some people love junk food. I think metaphorically, feel metaphorically, see metaphorically. And if anything in writing comes easily, comes unbidded, often unwanted, it is metaphor. Like follows as as night the day. Now most of these metaphors are bad and have to be thrown away. Who saves used Kleenex?6









The process of making metaphors and practicing at it will result in some stinkers. The bad ones, like used Kleenex, need not find their way into your work. Toss ’em. That’s what I’ve done.







Most of my comparisons fall flat, but I’ve found it's worth experimenting with mediocre metaphors in hopes of landing on ideal metaphors because when we nail it—when we find the language that connects—the reader remembers,

I made a last-minute decision heading to the most recent writer's conference I attended. I’d planned to take my classy, professional, sleek gray backpack that I’d purchased to replace the original purple one I mentioned in an earlier episode. 









As I loaded it, I realized that to stay fortified, I needed to carry snacks and lunch each day—maybe even dinner—and it wouldn’t all squeeze into the professional-looking slim gray bag. I needed a bigger backpack. I dug around in my closet and found an older, different, ridiculously large purple backpack that I use for long trips. 







It wasn’t professional-looking at all, but my lunches would fit just right, so I showed up at this much anticipated writing festival with a purple backpack after all, and podcast listeners attending the conference would stop me. 







They’d heard the episode about planning and packing for a writing event. They’d shout, “The purple backpack!” and I’d say, “You’re a listener!” and we’d have a great time talking about writing. 







So that’s my first of 15 tips, some of which are super practical, like this one…







Tip #1: Make sure your bag is big enough







Test your bag to ensure it’s big enough to hold all the things you plan to carry with you each day plus whatever swag you collect along the way…even if you’re not going to look as professional as you’d like.







And don’t worry if your bag is a bit odd. People really do recognize you in a crowd if you have a memorable bag, purple or otherwise.







Tip #2: Tuck your business cards behind your name tag







Someone shared this pro tip with me years ago: When you go up to the registration table, you’ll get a name tag attached to a lanyard. Pull out five or six business cards and tuck them behind your conference-designed name tag in the plastic holder clipped to the lanyard, facing out. 









* When the tag inevitably spins around, people can always see your name—one side is your name on the conference-designed name tag; the other, if it flips around, will show the front of your own business card. 







* Your cards will be convenient to slip out and hand to someone without fumbling around in a bag.







* You can tuck other people’s business cards behind yours when you swap to avoid losing them; at the end of each day, pull out other people’s cards, add their names to your contacts app, and replenish your own cards for the next day.









Tip #3: Decide which sessions to attend







If you haven’t already, plan which sessions you want to attend and mark those in your conference binder.







I choose sessions featuring industry experts I want to learn from or people I admire. This could be authors or publishing house representatives like a marketing executive or an acquisitions editor.







Circle the sessions you think are ideal for you. 







But…







Tip #4: Stay open to adapting the plan







Making a plan but staying flexible can help you feel less rigid, more open to serendipity.

Are you getting ready to attend a writers’ conference?







Guess what? So am I! And I want to make the most of my time there, so let’s think through what will help with that.







You’re likely going for at least two reasons: to learn and to connect. You might also be going to pitch your project. Let’s prep, plan, and pack to get the most out of this upcoming event, so you’re even better prepared to learn, connect, and pitch.







And given that I work with a lot of published authors and speakers, it’s possible you’re one of the presenters. One day I might share detailed speaker recommendations, but for now I did weave in a few suggestions to make your faculty conference experience a little easier, too.







Event Binder







First, I should mention the Event Binder. This idea originated with Kathi Lipp on an episode of Writing at the Red House. Years ago I heard her describe what she includes in her “dossier,” as she calls it, and I’ve adopted and adapted the list to make it my own.







I load it up with all travel information (printed out, obviously) like reservations, and confirmations; contact names and emails; an envelope for receipts; a mileage tracker where I can log each outing; a printout of the schedule; and more. If I’m speaking, I print out copies of my messages in case technology fails.







That said, I do create redundancy by dropping the same information into a folder on my phone in an app like Google Drive or Notion. And I’ll save the key locations in my maps app so it’s a quick click and I’m on my way.























If you’d like a list of what I have in my Event Binder whether I’m an attendee or speaker, head to ​annkroeker.com/conferenceprep​ to get a checklist.







Research Speakers







Hopefully you already read the session descriptions when choosing this conference and got a feel for the presenters and other faculty.







Study the conference website







Now, in the days before the event, study the website to learn about the organizers and faculty. You never know who you’ll be sitting next to at lunch or crossing in the hallway—knowing the team and speakers means you’ll be able to connect more personally during any random interaction.







Follow and watch or listen to speakers online























Find and follow key faculty on social media. Search YouTube and podcasts to find your favorite speakers. Listen to at least a few minutes of their interviews, presentations, or lectures. 







[Edited to add an excellent suggestion from writer Li Mitchell, who replied to my newsletter and suggested “joining presenters' email newsletters (if they have them) and getting to know them through email before you attend their conference …because then when you met them in person, you would already have spoken through email.”]







When you do this, each speaker will lift off the pages of the conference materials and seem even more “real” when you hear them tell a personal story about family or childhood in a podcast interview. You’ll get to hear their voice. You’ll see mannerisms if you see them on video. If you have time before the event, you could read one of their books.







Write what you discover























If you create an Event Binder, write questions to ask and details you learn next to their name and session description.

Looking to transform your writing career? Visit https://annkroeker.com/chooseconference for an edited transcript and additional resources that accompany this episode. You'll get a glimpse of host Ann Kroeker's experiences with writers' conferences. Learn how these events can be life-changing by offering essential industry knowledge, networking opportunities, mentorship connections, and opportunities to pitch. With practical tips on choosing the right conference for your goals and navigating the diverse landscape of writing gatherings, this episode offers recommendations to writers of all stages and genres. Whether you're a seasoned author seeking inspiration or a newbie eager to dive into the world of publishing, tune in to decide if a writers’ conference (or any writing event) is the next step in your publishing journey. Browse all episodes at https://annkroeker.com/podcasts

I stared at a blank screen. Why did I ever think I could pull this off?







Until that moment, I’d only written short projects. Articles, essays, poems. 







As I sat staring at the screen, questioning myself in about every way possible, I was supposed to be writing my first book—a manuscript of over 50,000 words.







Overwhelmed, I sat at the keyboard, frozen.







Sound familiar? Have you felt inspired to write a book you believe will truly help people—even transform them—but you’re not sure you have what it takes? 







Well, once upon a time, this writing coach was in the exact same place.







I was staring at the screen, inspired to write a book, but doubting myself: Do I have what it takes to write a book?







Could I Write Something as Big as a Book?







How does an essayist-poet-freelancer embark on the massive task of completing a 55,000-word manuscript?







That question felt unanswerable and I felt inadequate.







This prose-freezing self-doubt was a huge problem, however, because I’d signed a contract. I was obligated to write a book I didn’t think I could write.







First, a Proposal







For a year or so my friends had been urging me to move forward with writing a book after I kept sharing concepts with them in conversations over coffee or during play dates at the park. One after another, they would say, “You should write a book about that!”







I’d laugh it off. “Me? Write a book? Ha!” 







“But you’re a writer!” they’d insist.







“I’m a writer of short things. A book is too long, too huge.”







They’d shrug and we’d go back to wiping yogurt off our kids’ faces.







One day I was meeting with my mentor, a writer named Ruth (I had two writing mentors named Ruth—what are the odds!—and this was the Ruth who lived nearby). Nearby Ruth was the author of a book acquired by a publishing house based about three hours north of us. 







She offered to introduce me to the editorial team, so I could pitch the idea to them over lunch. She said she’d drive me up there herself! All I had to do was hop in the car, share the project with them, and hand out copies of a book proposal. 







It was all arranged.







What a great mentor, right?







I just needed to create the book proposal…which I didn’t have the faintest idea how to put together.







"You can look at mine"







“I need a book proposal? Can’t I just describe the book?”







“They need the book proposal,” Ruth said. “That’s how they do it.”







It’s the same now as it was then, by the way. For nonfiction projects, an author produces a book proposal before landing a book contract with an agent or editor. (Learn more about the process and purpose by watching this webinar.)







Back then, I had no idea what a book proposal looked like. This was pre-Internet, so there were no samples to download or coaches to hire.







“You can look at mine,” Ruth offered. “You can see how it’s laid out and how I described my book. Then you can plug in your book’s details in the same places.”







Can you believe that? My mentor offered to let me see her own book proposal like it was no big deal.







But it was pivotal. Life-changing. Career-forming.

"Never go to bed until you have a story to tell," says Kevin Lynch, Creative Director at Oatly. I heard him interviewed on a podcast and stopped jogging to write down what he said about that daily story:









It could be a deep thing that you learned, it could be a movie that you saw, it could be a way you took home, it could be a conversation that you had…it could be anything.”1









Indeed, we can live a “storied life” without a celebrity-level lifestyle full of famous people and fabulous soirees. We’re living “story-worthy” moments each day—we simply need to notice them…and capture them.























Every day we have understated interactions and flashes of insight that create meaning. In fact, simpler, subtler, more relatable stories can captivate readers far better than wild escapades that don’t show any change.







These daily stories serve as fodder for our work, weaving into what we write as anecdotes, illustrations. Sometimes they serve as the narrative spine of a full-length project.







Thus, the more stories, the better—as Kevin Lynch observed in that interview, capturing a story each day gives us 365 stories every single year. 







To start your story collection today, try these three ways to ensure you have a story to tell by the time your head hits the pillow tonight:









* Reflect to discern your "story-worthy” moment from the day







* Create a story worth telling before closing your eyes for the night







* Gather memories that come to mind and use those as story prompts









1. Reflect on the Day to Discern Your “Story-Worthy” Moment







In his TEDx Talk, on his podcast, in his book Storyworthy, and at his blog, storyteller Matthew Dicks invites every person, not just writers, to document their “most story-like moment from the day” for what he calls Homework for Life. 







He takes five minutes at the end of each day and thinks back: What made this day different from all the rest?2







The idea is so simple. He writes a sentence or two—sometimes just a string of words—and later, when he has time to write it out in full, he’s got what he needs to bring back that memory from that day: the moment he chose to document. 







With his Homework for Life, we note the small discoveries, the daily surprises, those meaningful moments we don’t want to lose. In other words, these daily stories don’t need to be earth-shattering events. They can be quiet, understated internal shifts.







He keeps his in a spreadsheet, making it easy to search keywords and find connections and themes from year to year.3







Begin this process, and you’ll be transformed by seeing how ephemeral interactions, observations, and moments are actually filled with meaning…that a day that seems like any other day is packed with specificity.







We are living stories every single day.







2. Create a story worth telling







The next way to avoid going to bed until you have a story to tell is to create a story.







That’s what Kevin Lynch suggests: “If someone asks, ‘How was your day?’ and you don't have a story to tell them, go create one."4























He continues, "By doing so, it pushes you out of your comfort zone and kind of gets you used to doing a little more experimentation and being vulnerable and putting yourself in vulnerable places or situations."5