The Bold Shift That Changes Everything (Ep 1)

In this episode of the Write Big series, Jennie unpacks what it really means to “write big”—not chasing bestseller lists or movie deals, but making the bold internal shifts that bring your truest work to the page. Through stories of writers daring to name their ambition, rebuild drafts, honor personal truths, and even reimagine entire projects, Jennie shows how writing big looks different for everyone but always comes down to honesty, courage, and clarity.

Transcript Below!

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Hey, this is Jennie Nash, and I wanted to invite you to check out my Substack newsletter, The Art & Business of Book Coaching. It’s totally free unless you choose to support me, and it’s secretly really great for writers. The reason is that book coaches are in the business of helping writers do their best work. So I’m always talking about writer mindset and things like helping a writer find their structure or find an agent or find their position in the marketplace. If you’re considering investing in having somebody help you, it’s a great way to get prepared to know who you might want to pick and what you might want to ask of them. You’ll get an inside peek at the way that the people who are in the business of helping writers think about writers, and so in that way, it can help you become a better writer just by tuning in. I have a lot of writers following me over there, so if you’re interested, come check it out you can find it at substack.com/@JennieNash. That’s substack.com/@JennieNash, and it’s J-E-N-N-I-E.

EPISODE TRANSCRIPT

Hi, I’m Jennie Nash, and you’re listening to the Hashtag AmWriting Podcast. This is a Write Big Session—a short episode about the mindset shifts that help you stop playing small and write like it matters. Today we’re talking about what Write Big really means. A lot of writers think that writing big means chasing splashy goals like bestseller lists or big advances or movie deals, and sometimes it looks like that, but more often writing big is a subtle internal shift. It’s daring to face what isn’t working, listening to hard feedback, writing the thing you really want to write, and letting yourself own what you’re dreaming about.

I think the best way to explain it is to tell a few stories.

So in the last episode, I mentioned my client, Dr. Diana Hill. When I met Diana, she had a full draft of the book that she was writing, and it was her third book. She was about two months away from turning it in to her publisher. She asked if I would take a look at the manuscript to see if there was anything that I might be able to suggest to make the book better.

We were new friends, and I thought it would be a kind thing to do, and so I said yes, but as soon as I started reading the manuscript, I thought, uh oh. It was good—it was fine—but there was nothing special about the pages. Diana had done the thing that a lot of academics do, which is point to all the other thinkers who had gone before them and written things or studied things. It was all just a little flat, but I could tell that the ideas in it were really big. And so I went back to Diana, and I said, “What’s your goal for this book? Where do you want it to sit on the shelf?” And what I mean by that question is: what other books are near it, what other books are like it, what other books are your ideal reader reading?

And usually, when I ask people this, they talk about actual shelves in the bookstore and books that are on those shelves. But what Diana said was something I’d never heard anybody say before. She said, “I don’t want my book to be on the shelf. I want it to be on the front table.” That was her version of playing big—naming her ambition out loud and allowing it to shape her choices. Because when she told me that, I was then able to say, “I don’t think what you’ve written is going to be that book.” And then I said, “How much are you willing to risk to make it so?”

She looked at me sort of horrified, because she was really close to actually being done with this book, and she said, “I’ll do anything that it takes.” And so we set about working together over those two months to basically rip the entire thing down to the studs—if we’re talking about house-building imagery. I have rarely seen somebody work as hard over such a long sustained period of time as Diana did to rebuild that book. She did anything that I suggested if she thought it was right, and she worked night and day to build it back up. I’m recording this the week before her book comes out, and so we have no idea how the book is going to be received in the marketplace. But what we do know is this: she played big. She gave that book everything that she had. She was willing to ask for help. She was willing to sacrifice time with her family and even time at her job. She’s a therapist, and she took a week off from seeing clients in order to go on a retreat and get this writing done. She also risked her ego, because she really put out there what she wanted. She wanted this book to be a big deal, and all of that is playing big.

But playing big does not have to be tied to ambition.

I once worked with an ad executive who came into a course that I was teaching at UCLA, and he wanted to write a memoir. He’d spent his whole career writing ad copy—short, little, catchy lines—and he was a really good wordsmith, but he was terrified of writing anything longer than about a paragraph.

But he had this story that he was burning to tell, and the story had to do with a road trip that he took when he was 16 years old. At the time that he came into my class, he was retired and had gray hair, and he was thinking about this trip that had taken place way back in the day when America was really a different kind of country, and cars were new, and the roads that opened the country were new, and this idea that you could hit the road and go anywhere you wanted was new.

And so he had this romantic image of what that trip was. But the trip had also haunted him for 50 years, because he took it with his buddy, another friend from Ohio, who he was going to school with. After that trip was over and they returned back home from California, that friend took his own life, and this ad executive had never stopped thinking about it, and never stopped thinking about his friend, and this vibrant time they had, and this aliveness that they felt, and this freedom that they enjoyed, and he wanted to capture that story for his 50th high school reunion.

He didn’t have any intention of publishing it wider than that. He was going to print maybe 100 copies and take them to the reunion and hand them out to people, because the people in that room at that reunion were the only people who would have cared as much as he did about that friend and about that time. This was the audience that he wanted to please, but he really wanted to do this idea justice. He did not want to just write something down or write something that didn’t have depth, or, you know, have a sort of travel log of the places they went and the adventures that they had. He wanted to write something that was deeply meaningful to him and to that friend’s memory and to that audience.

And working with him, I was struck that this was playing big too—just knowing what he wanted and being willing to do whatever it took to get it right. It was very hard for him to write that book, because, like I said, he was really good at writing little bits of words but not so good at writing whole scenes and chapters. He really had to teach himself how to do that and teach himself about narrative design and holding tension, and, as with any memoir, centering the reader and not just himself.

Plus, he was digging up memories and wanting to get things right and wanting to get the spirit of the thing right. He worked so hard, and publishing that book and taking it to that reunion was a triumph for him. It was absolutely playing big.

And then just a few weeks ago, I had an experience of a writer playing big. This is a friend of mine, Lisa B., and she had spent about three years noodling around with a nonfiction book, a biography that just wasn’t working. She is a journalist, and she adheres very closely to the truth—that matters a lot to her—and she was intrigued by this story, but she couldn’t get it to work, and it was really starting to grind at her. So she sat down with a brain trust of people, and I was part of that brain trust, and she asked us for some real feedback.

It wasn’t about the pages. We actually didn’t read any pages or notes or anything that she had written. It was about her story and what it was going to be, and if maybe it was time to let it go. So she was arguing for what she loved about the story and explaining about what wasn’t working, and she was listening to our critiques and our curiosity and our prodding and really trying to understand what to do with this story that wasn’t working. Should she try to somehow make it work? Was there another wrinkle that she hadn’t seen to bring this whole thing to life? Or should she let it go?

And we had this very rich and deep conversation, and then that night she had a sudden realization. She said it was kind of like a lightning-bolt strike, and she realized that the story was actually not about the person she thought it was about. It was about a minor character. And if she shifted the spotlight onto this other character, the whole book would work in the way that she envisioned it working, and it would mean writing it as a novel, which, for her, was something she had really fought against doing. It went against her adherence to the truth, and so she had to embrace this really big, scary thing in order to do this story justice.

But what was so cool in listening to her talk about this revelation was that she was practically vibrating with excitement as she described what this book was going to be. She knew she had it. She was just owning it. And that’s what playing big feels like. It’s this act of courage and clarity and passion and possibility, and you could just feel it in her. Playing big here has nothing to do with what happens to that book in the world. She’s just at the beginning. We don’t know what’s going to happen to that book in the world, but we know that she is writing big.

So writing big is about honesty with your own self. It’s choosing to tell the truth about your ambition and your story and your vision. And sometimes that looks like wanting your book to be on the front table of the bookstore. Other times it looks like wanting to write for 100 people and really get that story right. And sometimes it looks like tearing apart a draft and reimagining the whole thing.

There’s just a thousand different ways that it looks like to write big, and you have to find it for your own self.

What matters is that you’re willing to stop hiding and let the work be as powerful as it can be.

So I would ask you to think about your own current project, and if there’s anything about it that you’re tamping down—your ambition or your vision for it or what you want it to be, maybe how much you want this work to work, or maybe about what you’re avoiding.

And if there’s something that you find that you need to change, write a bold statement about what that change needs to be and put it up where you can see it every day or share it with someone you trust.

Writing big doesn’t happen all at one time. It’s often a subtle shift that unfolds over time. So having either a reminder of what that shift is or an accountability partner to help you remember is a really great way of making sure that you write big.

Until next time, stop playing small and write like it matters.

Narrator

The Hashtag AmWriting Podcast is produced by Andrew Perrella. Our intro music, aptly titled, Unemployed Monday was written and played by Max Cohen. Andrew and Max were paid for their time and their creative output, because everyone deserves to be paid for their work.

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