Beyond The End
The Story of Jen’s Transformation
Every writer has been here. You pour everything into a first draft. Your heart, soul, blood, sweat, tears, you know. All the bodily fluids (okay, maybe not all of them) go into writing the story that’s been living in your soul, gnawing on your subconscious for, possibly, years. Even if it’s only been swirling around in your heart for a little while, there’s nothing quite like typing The End.
You do type it, right? You have to. It’s a rite of passage!
But that’s beside the point… because when you reach The End on your first novel (or even fifth, or, I’m sure, twentieth and beyond), you know sacrificing your bodily fluids was worth it for the feeling you experience.
The joy.
The overwhelming sense of accomplishment.
The feeling that yes, YES! I am a REAL WRITER!
When I finish a first draft, I can be found running around my house crying out, “I did it! I did it!” I even grab my beloved pittie mix, Kira, by the face and whisper it into the top of her head.
The minute my husband gets home–If I can even wait that long–I shout it from the rafters all over again. He does not typically share in my over-exuberant excitement because he’s a realist and knows the hard work is yet to come (practical dude, my husband), but he does get excited because we get to pop some bubbly. Usually something really good (Veuve Clicquot anyone?).
I bask in this glory, sipping champagne on the back deck, thinking of all the brilliance I poured into the latest Claire L. Fishback novel.
I let it rest for at least two weeks before even thinking about revisions. Okay, I do think about revisions and where to begin, but I try to just let the novel rest. It needs it.
However, at some point in the resting period, doubt always creeps in.
Maybe I should have researched xyz thing more. Maybe I should have added that weird tangential subplot. Maybe that one character who shows up in chapter twelve and is more developed than any other character shouldn’t die. Maybe maybe maybe… Maeybe?
(Maeby Funke from Arrested Development)
Maybe you’ve been there, too. Maybe you haven’t yet experienced the overwhelming joy of typing The End.
Maybe you took a class, followed the rules, checked all the boxes, submitted to your critique group or other feedback kind of situation (like the aforementioned class).
The feedback is good. Awesome. People like it.
And yet…
You start reading through what you wrote to get back into your story and story world, your voice, your characters…
You feel like something is missing. The story’s okay, but… what if it actually isn’t good. Despite what others have told you?
This, my friend, is where my client Jen found herself.
This is not a story about a manuscript evaluation (though I did do one of those for her), this is a story about how a writer came to me wanting one thing, and discovered what she actually needed was something completely different.
Sound familiar? (I’m talking about our characters! How they want one thing but really need something else?)
So, this is Jen’s story about how she discovered what she actually needed and how it transformed her as a writer.
Tell Me What To Do
When Jen came to me, she had just completed a 90-day novel-writing course and walked away with a full manuscript. Awesome! I congratulated her like nobody’s business, trust me! I know how hard it is to write a novel (and, unfortunately, it doesn’t get easier, haha cry).
Her cohort had given her tons of praise, but… she wasn’t sure if it was genuine or not.
She even confessed that she didn’t actually enjoy giving others in the cohort feedback herself, so maybe they felt the same way, too.
Jen didn’t want (or need, hehe) more praise.
She really truly wanted to know if her book was worth taking beyond this early draft stage. She wanted an honest and constructive look at her story from someone who could actually see it.
She wanted clarity.
Also? She wanted someone to tell her what to do next.
This is the story of Jen’s transformation. How she went from uncertain and hesitant in her writing to bold and grounded.
It’s seriously impressive what can happen after a few weeks with someone who sees you, hears you, listens to you, and guides you.
It’s a tale of how she found her way back to her story and into the writer she’s truly meant to be.
Jen rewrote the way she writes.
Before: A Finished Draft, and No Clear Way Forward
About 75% of the people who come to me for help have not yet finished the first draft of their manuscript. That alone is what made Jen different from the getgo. She applied for a manuscript evaluation, confessing in the “anything else?” section that she hadn’t touched the thing in two months. She wasn’t sure where to start revisions, let alone if it was even worth revising in the first place.
She knew it needed work, but had no idea what to fix first.
Side Note: this is where a lot of writers struggle after typing The End. We tend to want to tinker at the sentence level first, when we need to step back further and start with big picture story elements. Sentences and words are actually the last step in revisions.
Jen didn’t want to quit. But she also didn’t want to dive into revisions without even knowing what even needed fixing.
I didn’t have a perfect fit package for her. So, I created one.
Because I knew I could help her. I wanted to help her.
I’d been Jen before. I’d toiled over a manuscript for twelve years off and on, never really knowing it if it was even worth all that time (not to mention the blood, sweat, and tears).
I wanted to be the person for Jen who I needed when I was a fledgling writer with no clue, just passion.
The little 250 word write up about her book in her application gave me chills. I knew she had something here. I felt it. I could see it.
And I knew what she needed first and foremost. Before even touching a word of her draft. I knew she needed to reconnect with it.
The Real Problem: Disconnection
Jen told me she just wanted someone to tell her what to do, but that’s not what I’m about. I’m about empowering the writer. I give my clients the tools and knowledge, so when they write their next book, they might feel a little more confident in how to move beyond The End.
As a credentialled Project Management Professional (PMP), I knew I could put together a plan for Jen, but that’s not the first thing we did. Oh no no no.
She’d written a draft, yes, but she tended to play it safe in her writing. Her characters held back. Emotional moments were skimmed over or interrupted. Secrets were withheld not for tension, but out of fear of revealing too much too soon.
The story had bones, but no breath.
Jen had done a lot of mindset work (in fact, she told me up front she didn’t need it, lol. Oh Jen, you beautiful little soul!).
She wanted to be the writer she’d always dreamed of becoming. But when it came to the page, something inside her kept her from getting there.
Jen wanted someone to tell her exactly what to do, but what she really needed was permission.
Permission to stop hiding.
Permission to say what she really wanted to say and mean it!
Permission to write something that mattered to her first, and then to the reader.
Step 1: Reconnect to the Soul of the Story
We didn’t start with the manuscript. We started with her.
I had Jen work through a few exercises designed to bring writers back to the roots of themselves as a writer and to their story.
Essentially we started with a Story Compass on steroids.
The goal wasn’t to fix anything. It was to remember. It was to rekindle. It was to reignite!
I wanted her to remember what she loved about this story when it first came to her. Why she said yes to it in the first place. What she believed it could become.
Jen went deep with these exercises. She didn’t care if it felt uncomfortable. She saw the importance of this work.
After our first few weeks together, everything changed.
She connected with her main character through her own internal stories. She was able to understand why her character would react a certain way, and as she started her revisions, she started to put that motivation, that energy, that emotional drive on the page.
It was like a switch had been switched!
She could see how powerful her story could be if she stopped holding back.
This phase didn’t transform the draft.
It transformed her.
Step 2: Find the Story’s Spine
Once the soul was back in her story, it was time to examine the bones.
Enter: the “Because That / This” outline.
“But Claire!” you cry out. “You hate structure!”
Yes dear friend, I know. This is not a structure. This is a simple tool that shows whether your scenes actually cause each other to happen or if they’re just loosely linked together.
A lot of manuscript evaluations I’ve done in the past (even before I officially hung up my book coach sign) showed me writers who had big bold scenes in mind, but failed to tie them together in a way that made sense.
The Because That/This outline is what shows a writer how compelling (or not) their story is. And when they nail it, I can see the story. I can feel it. My heart starts to race, and I devour every line of the outline. And that’s all it is: single lines tied together with cause and effect.
Jen plugged her story into the exercise, and right away, the gaps appeared. Places where the momentum dropped. Where her protagonist was reacting passively instead of making active choices. Where the logic in the story broke down.
Now she could see what wasn’t working. And more importantly? How to fix it and where to begin.
This wasn’t about prescribing a formula. It was about helping her develop an internal compass she could use forever.
And that’s when the doubt began to lift and her excitement for her story came rushing back in.
Step 3: Go Scene-by-Scene And Stop Holding Back
The final phase of our work (before she started revising and rewriting) was the most transformational.
We looked at each scene through one key lens using a proprietary technique only Author Accelerator certified coaches are allowed to use and teach: Why does this matter to the protagonist?
Not in terms of plot. In terms of feeling.
This unlocked everything.
Jen’s protagonist began to come alive on the page. She stopped summarizing and started dramatizing. Her prose went from tentative to bold. From guarded to emotionally grounded. She stopped holding back!
And Jen herself? She changed, too.
She no longer needed to be told what to do. She made creative choices and trusted them. She leveled up as a writer.
After: A New Kind of Confidence
At the time of writing this, Jen and I are still working together in the Brains & Glory program (the top level tier that includes weekly page reviews).
While she still falls back to her old habits and ways, she trusts me to push her and to keep asking Why. To slow down on the big deal moments. To add more emotion. Show me what her character is thinking or feeling here so I understand her decisions and actions.
Jen confessed she gets annoyed when I ask her, “What is Ellie feeling here?” But she also told me, “It’s okay. I know how important it is.”
So far, after working together for a month and a half, Jen has:
- Reconnected to the soul of her story and discovered why it matters
- Identified her story’s weak spots, and knows exactly how to fix them (and when! We did put together that revision plan she wanted, but we did it together)
- Brought her protagonist (and her writing) to life in a way that felt clear, bold, and emotionally rich
The best part though?
She has become a more confident writer.
Not the kind of confidence that comes and goes. The kind that sticks.
The kind that says: I know what I’m doing, and I trust myself.
She’s no longer paralyzed by “Is this good enough?”
She’s no longer waiting for someone else to tell her what to do.
She’s not avoiding the page, but is excited again to tackle the next pages on the revision plan.
In our calls, she comes up with brilliant ideas when I ask her questions to go deeper into her story.
And that story that she once had doubts about?
It’s breathing now.
Ready to transform into the writer you’re meant to be?
If this sounds like the kind of transformation you didn’t even know you needed 😉, the kind that helps you fall back in love with your work, see your story clearly, and write with more clarity, connection, and confidence than ever before…
That’s what I do.
Not just in one program or one session, but across everything I create. Because coaching with me isn’t one-size-fits-all.
It’s you-sized.
Your story. Your voice. Your creative process.
I will meet you where you are and guide you to the next level.
If you’re ready to become the writer you were meant to be, I’d love to hear from you!
Let’s find the right starting point for the next phase of your writing journey.