Have you ever been at a cocktail party, or any kind of a party, and someone is talking to you when you notice that their eyes are roaming the room.  You can almost see their thought bubble, “Who else can I talk to?” 

When people ask me what kind of a book I’ve written, it often feels like that. I can almost see the disappointment when I respond, “It’s a business book.”

I don’t blame them. “Business book” sounds boring and dry and didactic. My book, and my work, is none of those things.  Even within She Writes Press, I sometimes feel that my book is a sad third or fourth place finisher. No, it’s not a memoir; it’s not a novel; it’s not a how-to live a deep authentic life . . . it’s a business book.  I absolutely acknowledge that some of this perceived snobbery may be projection. It may totally be projection.

I too struggled with the question of whether I was a “real writer” when I was writing about something as mundane as supervision in the workplace. Wasn’t I more of a writer when I wrote short stories and a draft of a historical novel? Maybe in some ways I was more of a “writer” in the stereo-typical way, i.e. I sat in my studio by myself and made stuff up. It was fun.  It was creative. It was deep. And it didn’t work for me. I got lonely. I didn’t feel like I was making a difference. And I didn’t sell nearly enough to make ends meet. 

So I turned to a day job.  Eventually, I worked in human resources in a nonprofit. And I loved it! I was surprised by that. I was fed by the balance of people work and thoughtful work. I also found that I could make an immediate difference in people’s lives. I could, and did write, albeit sometimes what I wrote were policies and procedures!  But I also wrote plans for trainings and I told stories when I did trainings. I saw how my stories got people’s attention in a way that dry facts never could. I saw even more how the energy shifted when I encouraged people to tell their own stories. 

When I started my own consulting practice ten years ago, I started a monthly newsletter. I wrote monthly short articles that unearthed lessons about management and leadership from my day-to-day experiences and my imagination: hiking, ordering tea at a coffee shop, accidentally overhearing a first-date conversation, being frustrated with GPS and people who give unasked for advice and even the idea of sending Goldilocks to work. All of these led to newsletter articles. I also wrote about the impact of my experience of mother’s death when I was eight on my life and work.

Over time, my newsletter subscription list grew to over 1000 people. And I found that my writing was a way to connect with people and to teach people, without being dry and didactic. 

Eventually I had the idea to put the newsletters into a book. It sounded so simple but you can’t just tie 100 short pieces together and make a book.  It took time to find a way to cohesively connect the newsletter articles and surround them with a structure that made sense. When I did, I had my book. 

We do judge books by their covers and by their topic. Business writing is assumed to be didactic and dry and boring. And yet behind my business book is ten years of living; ten years of stories, ten years of thinking, ten years of sitting before the blank screen to create inviting stories to entertain and teach people about a subject about which I care deeply. My work, and my book, is about being effective as a supervisor by valuing relationships and clarity, i.e. being a more user-friendly supervisor.

I haven’t been to my studio for quite some time.  Maybe someday I will sit in my studio again and maybe someday I will write a memoir or a novel.  I love reading those kinds of books and I have found many wonderful ones written by my She Writes Sisters.  But for now I am in the world. I am a teacher and I use stories to teach.  That’s what’s behind my book. 

Photo Credits:  Katherarine Kimball Photoghy; 123RF Stock Photo