Bloody and Rare

I recently discovered my first paper advert for what I called Grafista — “affordable and enjoyable writing assistance, editing, hand-holding.” I still love it. I still believe that at its heart writing is bloody.  A.I. would strip writing of its mess and juice, but any time you sit down with a pen or pencil and try to figure out what you want to say, you are engaging in a visceral, corporeal act.

For many people writing can feel dangerous and uncertain — like rappelling down into a cavern. What will be there? But that is also why it’s powerful. In doing it, we stick with the beasts of our own fears (or boredom, or self-doubt, etc etc) until we get somewhere. It’s a trip.

The card promised that I would “sort out colons from semi-colons; tired language from the real thing; and the fine distinction between bloody and rare.” I am less concerned with semi-colons these days, and more with the moving space around words, the music that allows writers to reach their readers, or not. So often words just need more space.

I tend to work with people first by asking questions. Is this (emotion/feeling/tone) what you wanted here? How does this sentence feel to you when I read it aloud? Ideally, I help writers to hear themselves and become more attuned. Then they will feel less afraid to go into the cavern each time.

A recent testimonial read in part: “I just read your feedback. Incredible! You’re helping me to be a better writer.”

If you would like attuned, francesca-style feedback on a compact piece of writing, or speech, or slogan – or really anything that could benefit from some deep listening – be in touch. You can send me an email, or respond to the “Work With Me” button.