Has anyone ever told you “Your life story should be a book”? Maybe you’re dying to write about your experiences but you don’t know where to start. Many emerging writers I work with are inspired to write but when they attempt to tell their story, what I call the “little snake” appears, whispering in their ear saying, “You have nothing to say. Why would anyone want to read this?” The good news is you’re not alone—this is an almost universal occurrence among writers. So how, then, do you quiet the “little snake” and where do you start if you have a story to tell?

In 2017, I was asked by Dawn Nickel, co-founder of the She Recovers Foundation, to host a workshop at the She Recovers weekend in New York. For that workshop, I drew on everything I had learned about writing and book creation in my 30 years as a magazine editor and as the author of the bestselling book Drink. The workshop, delivered to a standing-room-only crowd of women in recovery, was a hit. Inspired by this experience, in 2021, I created my eight-part course Writing Your Recovery which shares everything I wish I had known when I first headed into the world of book publishing—How does one find one’s voice? An agent? A publisher? How does one navigate the ups and downs of writing life? How does a first-time writer develop a narrative arc?

On the first day of each eight-week course, we begin building each writer’s story by creating what I call your first “quilt square.” Rather than attacking an entire project at once, each quilt square is a 750- to 1,000-word piece based on a memory or inspiration from your life. We create piece after piece over many days which, together, begin to tell a story. I like to begin building our quilt with prompts from a favorite quote by Joseph Addison which reads, “Three grand essentials to happiness in this life are something to do, something to love, and something to hope for.” We explore each of these three notions, one by one and the results are shared with the class.

As each writer defines her voice and goals for her project, we work on creating a “sentence” that defines the project and hones in on its narrative path. This “sentence” is, in essence, an elevator pitch for what each person wants to write, whether that’s a book, a series of linked essays, or a piece for Modern Love in The New York Times. As an example, I often share the sentence I crafted for my book, Drink. “I was the poster girl for the narrowing gender gap in risky drinking.” Short and to the point, the sentence sets the tone for the piece. Once a writer has her sentence, she has a much more defined sense of purpose and a roadmap for what she needs to do to flesh out her project. 

I ask every person who wants to write to spend at least 20 minutes a day, five days a week, writing in a journal. Many devote far more than this, and the dedication pays off, but I find 20 minutes is an achievable, minimum commitment to begin to develop your voice over time. Each week, as the writers share their stories, you can hear their voices evolve, as distinct as thumbprints. I find it exciting to watch each writer find their way into their voice, their stories, and their craft. Wendy McCallum of Halifax Nova Scotia, a former student of mine, finished one memoir project and then went on to write two fiction books. McCallum shares, “I started in [Writing Your Recovery] pretty sure I’d never write a thing worth reading out loud but eager to learn. I’ve now done several rounds of [the course] and have my second book underway! Ann’s careful stewardship and encouragement were exactly what I needed to rediscover my love of writing. I am officially a writer again, and I owe that in large part to Ann.”

If you have a story to tell, don’t let the “little snake” stop you from sharing what’s in your heart. Use these methods to develop your story and your narrative and to help your voice evolve and shine through.