I hate to say it, but I observe in my teaching venues, in my self-publishing network, and among potential clients that writers give very little thought to their audience. Fiction and memoir writers especially, but also some non-fiction folks who are passionate about their cause or greedy for followers. They have lived through an experience they have to process, or they have such a unique story, or they foresee a danger (or they have an image of fame or a huge bank account). Of course they want everyone to read their piece because it will inspire and teach others, or help others deal with difficult experiences that can’t be spoken aloud.
Sometimes words start coming in the middle of the night. These words seem not only trustworthy, but carry a brilliant clarity to your night mind. So you follow the path that has been laid before you as it winds through a forest for which you have no map. Some great writing can be shaped out of such wilderness expeditions.
Sometimes a story – especially memoir – has a clear chronological unfoldment to follow. Or a novel might begin from an image or scene that warrants descriptive elaboration, or a character who intrigues you because of their historical or symbolic impact, so you sink into the luscious process of exploring it.
Go into the woods or lock the door! Write it out! Write with passion. Write with curiosity about what is taking shape. Let your imagination soar.
But there must come a moment when you have to realize that this piece has no life until someone actually reads it. (Sometimes that realization is thrust upon you by your editor.)
Somewhere, likely in your subconscious mind, you have been writing for someone – and it’s worth asking at this point whether you’ve been pulling for something from your readers. What might you want from them?
Adulation for the writing?
Admiration for surviving the experience?
Recognition of your talent?
Empathy with your suffering?
Acknowledgement of your insight?
Justification for your action?
Thus begins the refining process – because they have not agreed to the contract that they owe you anything more than the cover price. Readers generally believe the writer owes them something, and something worth their time.
Conceptualize the audience you would like to offer it to. This has to be more specific than Everyone Who Has Ever Had An Imaginary Friend or Women Who Live With Dogs – only because your book is not likely to reach all of them. Some don’t read at all, some are bored with the genre.
Identify what that audience might be wanting out of your story – emotional intensity, spiritual uplift, new techniques or approaches to their concerns, hope, an action plan.
Now is a good time to write the back cover text because it will help you hone your intention into three sentences.
With that precise focus, it’s time to start editing your book from the beginning, so that you can shape it to address the needs and desires of your audience. First you’ll evaluate what information needs to be included (and if there’s not enough, you might need to do extra writing or even research).
When your content is complete, you’ll edit to fit your word choice to the expectations and capacities of your reader.
Editing your own work can be a very exciting process. As you stay attuned to your audience, you will feel more and more intimate with them – for you are building a relationship. That relationship will give you guidance for how to address them once your book is published and you can enter real-time dialogue with your specific readers – those who have taken your book into their lives.
Until next time, delight in the process.
Download PDF: Writer Do You Want Something From Your Audience