I grew up wanting to be a writer. It was the dream of my heart the moment I realized that the name on the front of the stories I read under the big, bold title was the name of a PERSON. A real life person whose job it was to write that story down.
Each year, on the first day of school, we’d go around the carpet circle and introduce ourselves and inevitably, one of the ice breaker questions would be “What do you want to be when you grow up?” It seems in the 80s, when I was coming up through the ranks, there wasn’t a lot of choice. The majority of the class spouted out generic jobs like “doctor” or “banker” or “lawyer” or “veterinarian” and of course, “teacher.”
I never knew what to say. I knew I didn’t want to be any of those things. I wanted to be a writer. But what did that even look like? As a child, I didn’t know any writers. I went to a pediatrician and we got lollipops at the drive through bank on Friday when my mom made a deposit and we took our cat to the vet and my mom was a paralegal at a law firm and obviously I knew plenty of teachers. But writers? I didn’t have a visual. I didn’t know what it meant. And so I tucked that precious piece of myself inside my heart and only dared to take it out and dust it off when a teacher might make an extra complimentary note on a piece of writing I did for class.
I went to the Duke Young Writer’s Camp in middle school and dabbled in creative writing in high school, even designing my own independent study, but when college came around, I felt the weight of responsibility on my shoulders. I knew college was a serious thing, a thing meant to prepare me for the “real” world. And again, my real world didn’t include writers. They were still mysterious people in cardigan sweaters sipping steaming cups of tea in cabins and pounding away at typewriters. I lived in a suburb in the South where the tea is always iced. So I chose the next best path. I eschewed even taking a creative writing class and instead focused all my energy on journalism school.
I learned how to write a headline (poorly…still not my strong suit) and research an article. I wrote feature articles and press releases. I learned media law and debated journalistic ethics. I focused on public relations and learned how to distill messages to communicate to various audience to influence behavior or educate.
When I started my career, I ended up in media relations where I told stories. Just not my own. I created two minute video news release about how to safely use propane tanks for grilling season. I produced media tours to teach local audiences how to cook with vitamin E rich almonds. I wrote media alerts about youth anti-tobacco campaign stunts. I called reporters and pitched stories for clients from breakthrough medical technologies to high school sports streaming services.
I was good at it. The writing and the telling of the story. I particularly loved pitching new clients with ways they could communicate their stories to people. In the end, however, it wasn’t enough.
That little dreamed I tucked into my heart began demanding space in my outside life.
I wanted to write.
And so I did. And my PR skills came in handier than I though.
Maybe you want to write a novel, too.
The good news? You, too, already have the skills you need to pursue creative writing:
- You write well. I know that AP Style Book and Chicago Manual of Style aren’t collecting dust on your shelf. You know the mechanics of telling a story succinctly and with purpose. Sure, creative writing is a different muscle BUT you aren’t having to start at square one.
- You understand story purpose. Every story has a purpose, a message you are trying to convey to your ideal reader. Just like every press release has a key point you’re trying to convey to your target audience. The skills for finding the heart of the message are the same even if the execution is different.
- You’re already acquainted with writer’s block. You probably haven’t mastered it yet (because who has?) but you are aware of the terror of the blinking cursor on the page. Worse, you know that pressure with a 5pm deadline staring you down. Being comfortable with those feelings of uncertainty is half the battle to pushing through them and putting words (eventually) on the page. You have always managed to do it in the past, you will do it again. And you can do it with your creative writing, too.
- You are used to summarizing huge amounts of data into digestible chunks. Great! Now you’re ready to write a synopsis and a query letter where you distill an entire novel you wrote into two pages or two paragraphs.
- Pitching agents is like creating a media list. I spent a lot of time early in my career with the old giant, hunter green Bacon’s media directories researching reporters (if you know, you know) until online databases made it much easier. But much like building a media list, when it’s time to pitch to agents (if you decide to traditionally publish), you will use your same match-making skills to determine who the best agents are for your story. In other words, just like you wouldn’t pitch a health care story to the sports reporter, you won’t want to send your cozy mystery manuscript to a science fiction agent.
If you are a public relations executive or otherwise in communications and dream of writing a novel, don’t wait. Take out that dream you tucked away in your heart, the manuscript you fiddle with on nights at weekends, the idea that won’t let go of your imagination, and honor it.
You don’t have to go it alone!
I invite you to join a small group of PR professionals who also dream of writing in the Start Your Novel Boot Camp for PR Pros.
Registration closes on Sunday, July 30th, so don’t wait!
You can also read more about the Boot Camp here, here and here!
If you still have questions, reach out to me! Comment below or use this form. I am happy to answer any questions and see if this boot camp is the right fit for you and where you are on your writing journey.
And whether we work together on this boot camp or not, know that I see your dreams. I honor them. I hope you do, too.
Happy Writing!