How writing with others strengthens your work

I’m a published author. My memoir, Accidental First Lady, took a few years off my life, and maybe gave me a few gray hairs. But the best gift was the hard-earned epiphanies along the way. Trusting in my story, recommitting to my work throughout the process, and harnessing authenticity that gave readers a glimpse into my real and raw world made this project worthwhile.

I use the term “project” loosely, as the idea to write was borne from a challenge accepted. It was an idea I’d never considered, even though I’d written in various capacities throughout my career as a copywriter, grant writer, and non-profit public relations manger.

I was good at writing others’ stories - making their cases - whether for advocacy, funding, or recognition. But to turn the tables, look in the mirror and inward? That was a challenge that morphed into a gift, for it taught me to value my experiences enough to share them so that they may help, inspire, or simply entertain.

We read to learn, laugh, and escape. We write to expel the thoughts that live in our hearts and our heads, the ones that have shaped us, transformed us, and molded us into the people we are today.

After publishing my book, I was astounded at readers’ reactions. I wrote for me, not for notoriety, interviews, or even sales. Well, I admit I wanted to sell books to more than supportive family members and friends, and I did. But what kept me pursuing the path to publishing was the desire to share my story, and not just recount events, but share it authentically.

Authorship has enveloped me in a community I didn’t know existed, one that is not exclusive but inclusive. You could say I’ve found my people. Not only the authors, but the readers, the writers, other aspiring authors. That’s why I teach aspiring memoirists how to find the courage and bravery to write, publish, and promote their life stories.

I haven’t forgotten the ones who listened, read my words, and provided valuable, honest feedback when I’d ly written a few chapters. “Congratulations, you’re an author,” spoken by my friend Roy Peter Clark, a celebrated author of 21 books on the craft of writing, pushed me to the finish line.

This is why I now teach others how to write with authenticity, shape their stories, and share them with the world. Just as lawyers, teachers, and physicians attend conferences and classes on continuing education, writers must do the same. We get stuck, stagnant, and sometimes need a spark.

The Beauty in the Wilds 6-week writing workshop I recently completed was a gift to myself. My continuing education that led me on a path with 6 strangers to pursue excellence in prose, dig deeper to summon even more vulnerability on the page, and truly bring the reader into my world.

Cars need tuneups to run smoothly and efficiently. writers to step out of isolation and grow in community.

These weekly gathers weren’t an exercise in sharing words that were polished to perfection. We told real stories told with heart. We read each other’s words. We gave feedback. We received it. And somehow, in that safe space of shared vulnerability, our writing deepened.

Here's what working with other writers reminded me:

1. You don’t know what’s missing until someone gently shows you.
I thought I had nailed a particular scene. Turns out, I was skating the surface. A comment from a fellow writer cracked it open: “But how did it feel?” That question led me into the deeper emotional layers I’d been skirting.

2. Writing in isolation = blind spots. Writing in community = insight.
Other writers notice patterns in your writing you’re too close to see. They’ll reflect back the gold and the grit. You become a better writer when you know what’s working—and why.

3. Scenes need senses.
One of the biggest takeaways? Don’t just tell the reader what happened—put them there. What did it smell like? What did your feet feel like on the ground? What was unsaid in the room? The critique I received wasn’t harsh—it was generous. It helped me take a flat moment and fill it with tension, texture, life.

4. Vulnerability invites transformation.
It’s one thing to write bravely. It’s another to read your words aloud to strangers and say, “Here’s what I have. Help me make it better.” That kind of courage pays off. Every time.

✨This is exactly why I built my Make Memoir Magic course the way I did.

Yes, you’ll get weekly lessons and structure. But the heart of the course is the community—our weekly live Zoom coaching calls where you share, ask questions, receive support, and grow.

It’s four weeks of learning, unlearning, rewriting, and witnessing each other’s bravery. Because writing is solitary, but memoir should never be lonely.

Ready to write your story—with the support you deserve?

Learn more and enroll here.

Never forget that your story is valuable. It deserves to be told. And, YOU are the best person to tell it.