Every great writer starts as a great reader and, inevitably, a great researcher. I’ll dive deep and ask the tough questions—and I’ll push beyond the easy answers, which could be to close a deal or delight the board. Where did we come from, where are we now, and where do we want to go? And then, why are we really here?

I craft one simple overview that sums up why we’re really here, why this story matters, and why people care—and then I outline the sh*t out of it. Each time I draft a new section, I double-check to make sure it aligns with that overview. If not, I boot it and try again. I have a ruthless no-fluff rule in my writing, which is why word count minimums make me want to punch a wall. I write for meaning, not for numbers.

I have three rules for editing my own work: Never edit after a full day of writing, always read aloud, and approach the piece from an outsider’s perspective: What does this story sound like? What does this story feel like? And most importantly, what action does this story make me want to take? I’ll even grab my husband or my brother (or perhaps ChatGPT) and ask them to answer those questions for me. If we’re not where we need to be, we go back and try again.