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Image by Jeremy Bishop
where unconventional thinkers turn good ideas into GOOD books.
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Hey, there!
 I'm Brannan.
You can call me B.

You're also likely to call me Brannon, Branan, Brennan, Brandon, Brandy, Brenda, Britney, Brianna...

You can call me anything, as long as you call me when you're stuck.

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Stories are the oldest magic we've got,
and I'm here to empower you to access yours.

You know that tingling, itchy, kind of painful feeling you get when your foot "falls asleep" and wakes back up? It's not really a danger-sign pain, but definitely a problem if you try to take steps on it.

It's the same when the storytelling part of you starts waking up. That itchy thought that "I should write a book" is sometimes tingly, sometimes painful, not necessarily a bad thing, but kind of in the way of all the moving you'd rather be doing. 

My job is to help you wake up to your storytelling magic.

 

It might not always be comfortable, but we'll keep you moving until it shakes loose. 

If “magic's just science that we don't understand yet," would-be writers have two options:

learn the science of storytelling,

or embrace the magic. 

 

Both are harder than they sound.

 

That's where I come in.

When we take the pressure off of "the book" and focus on the message that's driving you to write it, the rest flows like magic.

I've ghostwritten dozens of books, lost count of how many I've edited, and have been in the world of web content since 2006. Here's what I've learned:

 

Stories are the most natural, effective way we create change in the world—and it can feel entirely unnatural and ineffective to capture those stories in book form.

 

Somewhere along the way, storytelling became co-opted by industry, and we exchanged the practice of writing for the product of content. The cost of that exchange was to bury our story skills in the subconscious, only digging them out if we chose or were chosen to Become Author™.

The editor in your head is trained by that productivity machine—a mean teacher with a red pen, or a critical boss, or just plan fear—and can be your absolute worst critic.

Do you even have something worth saying?

Is it really the right time to write?

Where would you even start?

Can't you just wait until you have more time, more skill, more experience?

 

And if you haven't worked with a supportive editor before, it's easy to believe that our work will look and sound just like that internal narrative.

Get a good draft in hand first, then you can come to me.

A good writer commits to a good writing practice.

Pitch me your idea, and if it's good enough I'll support you.

 

Do better.

 

I'm not that kind of editor. 

I don't even own a red pen.

 

Instead of seeing editing as a way to make great content perfect, I see my role as a way to support authors through the meaning-making process that makes books GOOD.

 

The book industry might call my work developmental editing, book coaching, line editing, etc.

 

My clients have called it "brain translator," "emotional support alpaca," "book mom," "book doula," "faerie dust," "magic shuffling," "flow editor," and "help."

 

Because when you feel wholly supported by someone who understands the work of writing, it frees you to focus on the real work of authorship: showing up as yourself, for yourself, your story, and your reader.

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The inkling (or burning desire) to write a book is a clue that you've got something big to say.

Don't let the unknowns of writing a book keep you from what you know your message can do for your corner of the world. 

You've got this. I've got you. Let's chat.

Talk soon!

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