“It’s helpful to verbalize what I’m doing, where I’m going, and getting your feedback,” a client recently told me at the end of our coaching session. “If I verbalize it and then you provide feedback on it, it clarifies things for me… and you’re also pointing out places that don’t work.”
When I asked her to elaborate on why our conversation had been useful, she paused and said, “I can’t exactly verbalize why.” But that hesitation itself reveals something profound about the writing process—sometimes the most valuable benefits are the ones we feel rather than the ones we can immediately articulate.
The Isolation Problem
Writing is fundamentally a solitary activity. We sit alone with our thoughts, building worlds and characters that feel completely real to us. We live inside our stories for months or years, developing an intimate relationship with every plot thread, character motivation, and thematic element.
But this intimacy becomes a liability when we need to evaluate whether our internal vision has successfully translated onto the page. We know what we meant to say, so our brains automatically fill in gaps, smooth over unclear transitions, and interpret ambiguous passages according to our original intent.
In this recent coaching session, my client was working through a crime novel about a police officer investigating a suspicious death. She had been writing consistently, building momentum, and felt good about her progress. But when we started discussing specific scenes, several issues emerged that she hadn’t recognized while working alone.
What Verbalization Reveals
When writers explain their story aloud to someone else, they’re forced to articulate elements that may have remained fuzzy in their own minds. This process reveals different types of problems than silent revision ever could.
Plot Logic Gaps During our conversation, we discovered that my client’s protagonist was sharing too much information during her investigation. The detective was telling potential witnesses that the victim “died from an apparent overdose” when she had no reason to reveal that level of detail. When the writer had to explain the scene aloud, the logical problem became immediately apparent in a way that hadn’t emerged during private revision.
Character Motivation Clarity We also discussed whether a secondary character needed to remain a point-of-view character throughout the story. By verbalizing her uncertainty—”Ken is not really playing a huge role in this story, and I don’t know if it’s worthwhile making him a POV character”—she was able to work through the structural implications in real-time rather than getting stuck on the question privately. As it turned out, our conversation revealed that this question didn’t need an answer now—that continuing to write and saving the structural questions for later was the best path.
Pacing and Structure Issues The writer had been exploring her story through her detective’s investigation, visiting multiple locations and interviewing various characters. When she explained this process aloud, we could identify which scenes were serving the plot versus which were exploratory. This led to valuable insights about letting the investigation drive the structure organically rather than forcing predetermined plot points.
The Mirror Effect
A writing coach functions as an objective mirror, reflecting back what’s actually on the page rather than what the writer intended to put there. This external perspective simulates the experience of a reader who doesn’t have access to the writer’s internal knowledge.
In our session, I wasn’t criticizing my client’s choices—I was genuinely asking questions from the perspective of someone experiencing the story for the first time: “Why would the detective share that information?” “How does this character fit into the larger story?” “What’s driving this scene?”
These questions helped her see her work from a reader’s perspective rather than a writer’s perspective. The difference is crucial: writers know why characters make certain choices, but readers only know what’s shown on the page.
It’s worth saying that again: readers only know what’s shown on the page.
That alone is a huge gift of reflecting back to a writer.
Beyond Problem Identification
While identifying problems is valuable, the coaching conversation goes deeper. It creates a collaborative discovery process where solutions emerge through discussion rather than being imposed from outside.
When we identified that the detective was oversharing information, we didn’t just note the problem—we brainstormed alternatives that would maintain the scene’s purpose while feeling more authentic. “She could just say it’s part of an ongoing investigation,” my client realized. “I can’t say more.”
This collaborative approach ensures that solutions feel organic to the writer’s vision rather than forced by external critique.
The Safety of Professional Distance
Working with a professional coach creates a safe space for honest evaluation that personal relationships often can’t provide. Friends and family may be too invested in protecting feelings or maintaining enthusiasm to offer the direct feedback that leads to real improvement.
Professional distance allows for specific, actionable observations: “I don’t think Claire would tell her that he died of an apparent overdose. It seems unnecessary… potentially sort of an overstep in terms of Donnie’s privacy.”
This kind of direct feedback helps writers understand not just what isn’t working, but why it isn’t working, which enables them to make informed revisions.
The Confidence Factor
One unexpected benefit of coaching conversations is the confidence that comes from having your story make sense to someone who isn’t you. When you’ve tested your plot logic, character development, and scene construction against an objective reader, especially one who’s been there before as a writer, succeeded in finishing successful books with compelling plots, you can move forward knowing that your internal vision is successfully communicating with the outside world.
My client had been worried about various structural elements—character arcs, investigation procedures, pacing—but our conversation revealed that her instincts were largely sound. Sometimes the most valuable feedback is confirmation that you’re on the right track.
Discovering the Process
During our session, my client made an interesting observation about her current approach versus her previous work: “I feel like it’s working better for me doing it this way, because it makes more sense. I’m not coming up with these ludicrous, sort of like improbable plots that are going to get shot down.”
She had discovered that following her detective’s investigation organically was more productive than trying to force predetermined plot points. But this insight only became clear through verbalization—by explaining her process aloud, she could recognize its effectiveness.
The Intangible Benefits
When I asked what had been most useful about our session, my client’s response captured something essential about the coaching process: “I can’t exactly verbalize exactly why.”
This suggests that some of the most important benefits happen at a subconscious level. The act of articulating your work to another person creates clarity, confidence, and direction in ways that purely internal work cannot achieve.
Writers often report feeling “unstuck” after coaching conversations, even when we haven’t discussed specific technical solutions. Simply having someone listen to your creative challenges with professional understanding can shift your relationship to the work in valuable ways.
The Ongoing Dialogue
The coaching relationship creates an ongoing dialogue about craft that extends beyond individual sessions. Writers begin to internalize the questions that emerge in coaching conversations, developing their own ability to see their work objectively.
My client had clearly internalized this process—she was asking herself the right questions about pacing, structure, character development, even when to stop her work on a given day. The coaching conversation simply provided a forum for working through those questions collaboratively.
Making the Invisible Visible
Perhaps the most important function of coaching is marking the gaps between intention and execution. Writers can spend weeks perfecting passages that they believe clearly convey important information, only to discover that readers can’t access that information as written.
The coaching conversation reveals these gaps not through harsh critique, but through genuine curiosity about the story. When I ask, “Help me understand why this character makes this choice,” I’m not challenging the choice—I’m testing whether the reasoning is clear on the page, if it makes sense for the character.
Trust in the Process
Throughout our conversation, my client demonstrated something essential: trust in her own creative process. She was writing consistently, following her instincts about character and plot, and allowing herself to explore rather than forcing predetermined outcomes.
The coaching conversation supported this trust while providing course corrections where needed. We identified specific issues (oversharing information, unclear character functions) without undermining her confidence in the overall approach.
The Ripple Effect
Good coaching conversations create ripple effects that extend far beyond the specific issues discussed. When writers learn to see their work objectively, they carry that skill into all their future writing. When they experience the clarity that comes from articulating their creative choices, they become more intentional about those choices.
My client left our session with specific action items—revise the detective’s statements, consider character function, maintain consistent writing goals—but also with reinforced confidence in her process and clearer understanding of her story’s direction.
Because ultimately, writing isn’t just about putting words on the page. It’s about building bridges between your inner vision and your readers’ understanding. And sometimes, you need another person to help you see whether those bridges are strong enough to carry the story’s weight.
Need an objective perspective on your manuscript? My coaching helps writers identify the gaps between their vision and what’s actually on the page, providing the external clarity you need to make your story work for readers. Contact me to schedule a consultation.
