Many people want to become better and more successful writers. Others haven’t yet started writing because they feel as though they are frauds. How do you combat that imposter syndrome? If you’ve started writing, how can you improve and become more successful?
I asked Jeff Goins. He is a writer, speaker, podcaster, and the bestselling author of five books, You Are a Writer (So Start Acting Like One) and Real Artists Don’t Starve (Affiliate Links). His award-winning blog, GoinsWriter.com, is visited by millions of people every year. Through his online courses, events, and coaching programs, he helps thousands of writers succeed every year.
What would you say to someone who wants to become a writer but struggles with feeling like an imposter?
Jeff: I would say the thing that a friend told me nearly ten years ago when I started this journey. He asked me what my dream was, and I said, “To be a writer.” He just looked at me and said, “Jeff, you don’t have to want to be a writer. You are a writer. You just need to write.”
The first and most important step in this process is to own the title of “writer.” You don’t have to go to school to call yourself a writer, but you also can’t simply earn a degree that guarantees you’ll become a writer. You can study English or literature or even pursue an MFA, but none of these credentials automatically make you a writer. In fact, I know plenty of people with impressive qualifications and letters after their names who still struggle to confidently call themselves writers.
Early in my writing journey, I met an author named Steven Pressfield, who wrote the book The War of Art (Affiliate Link), which is a classic book on the craft of writing. I asked him, “When do you get to call yourself a writer?” And he said, “You are when you say you are.”
So, the first step is to claim the title and own it. I don’t think of it as “faking it till you make it” but more like “believing it till you become it.” Often, you have to call yourself a writer before other people will call you a writer.
Thomas: There’s no success threshold that will make you official. It’s a mirage. There will always be a writer who is better or more successful. You’ll never arrive if you’re measuring yourself by any metric other than “Do you write?” Yes or no? If you write, you’re a writer.
Jeff: Apply that logic to another craft. If you’re doing the work, you are the thing. You’d never hear a couple of plumbers saying, “I plunge toilets and fix sinks every day, but I’m not a real plumber yet.’ No one would question it; they’re plumbers because they do the work.
The same goes for writing. If you’re writing, you are a writer. There’s a distinction between being a writer and being an author. If you haven’t published a book, you might not call yourself an author yet, but writing itself makes you a writer. That’s the threshold: if you’re doing it, you are it. Your next step is to focus on improving and doing more of it.
Until we believe this is true about ourselves, we’re going to find ways to subtly sabotage our own success. I think it’s crucial to take that first step of saying, “I think I might be a writer,” and choosing to own it even if you’re afraid. Embracing that identity is an important step toward taking your craft seriously and pursuing it with greater focus and excellence. Steven Pressfield said, “You have to turn pro in your head before you do it on the page.” It really is a mental game.
What’s the difference between reacting and creating?
Thomas: Speaking of sabotage, you mention several things in your book that can sabotage our writing. You talk about the difference between reacting and creating. Tell us about that difference and why it’s such an obstacle.
Jeff: Well, reacting and creating are spelled with the same letters rearranged a little bit. There comes a point when you have to focus on doing your own work rather than someone else’s. It’s true that we all draw inspiration from similar sources. As historian Will Durant put it, “Nothing is new except arrangement,” but creating is about taking inspiration and making it uniquely yours.
Many of us spend too much time reacting by responding to what we think publishers expect, what readers want, or what other writers are doing. When you’re stuck in this reactive state, simply responding to external pressures, you’re not truly creating. You’re not making something new or original.
I believe our craft, our genius as artists, lies in taking what we’ve read or encountered from various sources of inspiration and then sitting down to ask, “What can I create from this? How can I rearrange this in my own unique way?”
Reaction is not making new things. For example, today, I spent all morning reacting and responding to texts and emails from colleagues and clients. I didn’t make anything new, and I felt drained.
I reacted to things for a couple of hours, got some coffee, had every intention to write this morning, and got sidetracked with urgent things that required my reactivity. Then I set that stuff aside because I felt drained. I knew I needed to write and work on something of my own. As soon as I finished up a little piece that I wrote, I felt full and right.
That’s such an important part of the creative process.
And we live in this age of constant reactivity. Technology and social media are great distractions that pull you away from your creative core. Any time you’re in that space of reactive work, you are not creating. You’re doing something else.
Thomas: I watch a YouTube show where the host interviews celebrities about their craft and how they got started. Often, he asks questions like, “What do you think about the box office numbers?” or “How do you feel about your Rotten Tomatoes score for your latest movie?” I’m always surprised at how few celebrities have any answers to those questions. Most of them say, “I don’t know; I don’t follow that.” They’re so focused on honing their craft, becoming better actors, and working on their next project that they don’t pay attention to the box office stats or reviews. That focus on creating, rather than reacting, is what allows them to keep moving forward and producing new work.
Often, we create something, and when people start reacting to it, we’re overwhelmed by the reactions to our work. Suddenly, we find ourselves reacting to their reactions, thinking, “Well, I created the first thing, so now I have an excuse to respond to what they’re saying.” Before we know it, we’re caught in a cycle of reaction rather than creation, and the creative process stalls.
Jeff: That reminds me of The Greatest Showman, which came out the same week as the Star Wars movie The Last Jedi. It did okay. The next week, it did just okay. It received a 50% on Rotten Tomatoes, which is not good. But that movie stayed in theaters for a year. People kept coming and bought more tickets every week.
The Greatest Showman took nearly ten years to make, and the process was unconventional. The songs were written before the movie was even filmed. The musical team essentially worked on spec without a full contract for the entire soundtrack. Instead, they were commissioned one song at a time.
The process went like this: they’d write a song, get paid for it, and then be asked to write another. This meant every song on the soundtrack was earned. There was no filler. The movie itself was then built around those songs.
It’s a powerful example of having a clear vision and dedicating years to bringing it to life without getting distracted by short-term feedback from critics or fans.
If you’ve spent ten years creating something, it’s natural to feel disappointed if it doesn’t become an immediate bestseller or blockbuster in the first week. But if you invested years into a project, why not dedicate a little more time, with your blinders on, to continue working toward its success?
In today’s reactive world, it’s important to recognize that reacting too quickly to external feedback comes at a cost. That cost is your ability to create. Instead of getting caught up in the noise, stay focused on the work itself.
How can I stay focused on writing?
Thomas: One easy, practical tip to keep you focused on creating is to disable all notifications on your phone while you’re writing. That way, it’s not dinging and constantly inviting you to move back into reaction mode.
Jeff: I’m not a Luddite, but I don’t understand why anyone on any device would ever have any notification enabled, period. There’s no reason why you should get a ding on your phone when you get an email at all unless it’s your spouse or partner.
Thomas: I completely agree. After I read Digital Minimalism (Affiliate Link), I turned off all notifications from Facebook on my phone. There’s never a little red icon with a number. That red icon is scientifically designed to trigger chemicals in your brain that create an addictive loop where you get rewarded by getting rid of the red icon. That urgency makes it feel important, but it’s not important at all.
Jeff: It’s silly. I’m not anti-technology. I use social media and check my email every day. But when I want to read an email, I go to my inbox. I open it, see what’s there, and handle it. Think of it like checking a physical mailbox. You don’t check your regular mailbox 20 times a day; you go once, maybe twice, usually at the same time, because the mailman comes at a predictable time. So why can’t we treat our inbox, Facebook, or Twitter the same way? Check them once or twice a day, and that’s it.
The problem is that we’re not conscious of how often we check these things. If you track your phone usage, like with an iPhone’s stats, you might be shocked. When I first tracked mine, I thought I was checking my phone maybe 15 times a day. Nope. The report said I pulled my phone out of my pocket 120 times in one day. That made me ask, “What am I doing with my life?”
This constant checking is an unconscious, addictive, and compulsive behavior. If you create some space in your life by reducing these habits, you’ll make room for creativity. Your time to create will always be filled—either with creation or with reaction. The choice is yours.
How can we make writing a habit we’re improving every day?
Thomas: After we set aside distractions, what are some other ways to make writing a habit so that we’re improving every day?
Jeff: I follow a system even though I’m not a big systems or formulas guy. Most of my creativity fit into the cracks of my life. Before I became a full-time writer, I was working as a marketing director for a nonprofit, my wife was pregnant with our first child, and I was blogging while working on my first book. Creativity came in short windows of 30 minutes here, 15 minutes there, maybe an hour after my wife went to bed.
I had a job, responsibilities, and a lot on my plate. To make it work, I cut out many hobbies and focused on maximizing whatever time I could find.
As a philosophy of creativity, I believe in using whatever time you have and never underestimating the value of small moments. That’s how I approach my work. Some people say, “I didn’t write today because I didn’t have a two-hour block of uninterrupted time.” I think, “That’s not my reality.”
With two small kids, a job, a wife who deserves my time, and the endless demands of life—bills to pay, people to meet, responsibilities to handle—I rarely have long stretches of free time. So, if I find even ten minutes where nothing else demands my attention, I write.
The Three-Bucket System
I’m not big on systems because creativity is a pretty messy process, and I think it is for a lot of people.
There’s a lot of survivorship bias in our conversations about writing success. If you jump out of a plane with a parachute and survive, you’re the one people will listen to when you say, “This is how you survive a jump.” But no one hears from the 99 dead guys who didn’t make it. That same dynamic applies to conversations about success, even in the writing and publishing world.
For example, people often say, “If you want a bestselling book, you need to be rejected 100 times, like J.K. Rowling.” While that may have been true for her, she was writing those books in the 1990s. The publishing landscape has changed significantly since then. It might be more useful to study people who have succeeded recently. Look for people who’ve accomplished what you want to do within the past six months rather than relying solely on advice from decades ago.
The productivity system I use is something I naturally developed, and I call it the Three Bucket System. It’s proven to be almost universally helpful for people struggling to get their writing done. For me, it’s about breaking the writing process into three distinct tasks.
Writing isn’t a single activity; it’s three separate stages. First, there’s generating an idea. Then, there’s drafting a rough draft. Finally, there’s editing that draft into something polished and ready for publication, whether it’s a blog post, a book, an Instagram caption, an article, or even an email.
The process varies for me depending on the project, but every piece of writing goes through these three steps: coming up with ideas, turning those ideas into a draft, and then editing the draft.
I break up my day into three chunks, and I never try to take an idea to a published piece in one sitting. I’m always coming up with ideas, and anytime I have an idea, I never assume I’m going to remember it. I put a little note in an app where I save my ideas. Then, every morning, I sit down to write and take an idea out of the idea bucket. I don’t have to think of an idea because it’s already saved on my phone. I’m constantly keeping track of ideas.
I take one idea and riff on it for 500 words on this idea, and then I save it and set it aside. And then, with the time I have left in my writing block (for me, it’s about an hour each morning), I’ll turn the idea into a draft.
Now, the idea is in the drafts bucket with a bunch of other documents that are half-finished and need to be edited and completed. I set aside that draft, and then I take out a previous draft from a previous day and edit it. I may get it ready to publish, or I may decide to come back and keep working on it later.
Every day, I work through my Three Bucket System. Throughout the day, I’m coming up with ideas and saving them. Then, I’ll take one of those ideas and draft it, setting it aside once the draft is done. Later, I’ll revisit an earlier draft and edit it.
With these three buckets—ideas, drafts, and edits—the goal isn’t to produce my magnum opus in a single day. Instead, the focus is on keeping all the buckets full.
Thomas: I stumbled into a similar system for podcast episodes when we started Novel Marketing back in 2013. We maintain a running list of ideas and listener questions, dumping them all into one big document. When it’s time to create an episode, we go to that list and pick the idea that feels most interesting or relevant at the moment. Then, we record the episode.
For the podcast, editing is now handled by someone else, but I used to edit all the episodes myself in the early days.
What I really like about your system is that it allows you to revisit your writing with fresh eyes. By sleeping on it, you bring a rested perspective to your work the next day. Often, what seemed brilliant yesterday can look completely different after some rest—you might think, “What was I thinking? I can definitely make this better.”
If you try to complete a piece start-to-finish all at once, you miss out on the clarity that a rested mind brings. With your system, you get multiple opportunities to rest and refine. First, you come up with the idea and rest. Then, you create the rough draft and rest again. Finally, you return with fresh energy to craft the final version.
Jeff: Hemingway had a similar approach to writing his novels and short stories. He would get up early in the morning, write for a few hours, and then stop. His philosophy was to leave something unfinished. By stopping in the middle of the story, he ensured that when he returned to it the next day, he would have been thinking about how to continue it and that he’d know where to start.
The next morning, he would reread what he had written the previous day, refine it, and then pick up where he left off.
I’ve found this to be a helpful process, whether I’m writing narrative, nonfiction, advice, or how-to content. Stopping in the middle, with a clear idea of where you’re going next, and then stepping away to sleep on it allows your subconscious to keep working on the story or ideas.
You might jot down a few notes, but something happens at a deeper level as you think about it in the background. When you return to the work, it’s often better than if you had pushed through.
Thomas: What I love about this system is that so many people stumble onto it independently, which suggests it resonates with how many humans naturally think. That said, if this system doesn’t work for you, don’t feel like it’s the only approach. It’s simply one method that works for a lot of people and is worth experimenting with.
If you currently have no system at all, you owe it to yourself to try something like this. Any system is better than no system. Without one, you’re constantly using mental energy just to decide what to work on, energy that could be better spent on actual creation. A blank page is intimidating, but a structured system can help you overcome and focus on the work.
Jeff: I highly recommend finding a system that works for you. The system I use works well for me, but it’s not one-size-fits-all. It seems to help a lot of people, but ultimately, you need something that resonates with your personality and quirks.
For example, I’m a messy writer. I spent years trying to force myself to be more organized, adopting systems and techniques that didn’t suit me and shaming myself when they didn’t work. Eventually, I realized I needed to embrace the way I naturally work. This system works for me, and I’ve learned to trust it. You need to find what works for you and trust that process, too.
The blank page can be incredibly intimidating. My goal with this system was simply to make the process easier for myself. I often felt stuck, overwhelmed, and intimidated by the pressure to produce an amazing 2,500-word piece in an hour. That mindset set me up for stress, fear, and failure.
When you’re in that state of mind, it’s hard to do your best creative work. You’re not focused, you’re not in the flow state, and the experience becomes physically and emotionally draining, which depletes your creativity. This system helps break that cycle by removing some of the pressure and making the process more manageable.
Thomas: It allows you to create consistently because you’ve got this drumbeat of content expectations. The blog needs to be fed. And having a system where you can create consistent content without stressing yourself out is really helpful.
Why do you recommend practicing in public?
Thomas: In your books, you talk about practicing in public. Are you sure about that? Do you really want us to practice in public?
Jeff: For any craft like music, arts, writing, or any creative craft, the best way to get better faster than you otherwise would is to practice in front of somebody.
In the Middle Ages and Renaissance, the apprenticeship system was the foundation for becoming a master in a creative field. This ten-year process placed aspiring artisans or craftspeople under the guidance of a master with whom they often lived. Apprentices would start by doing whatever the master required—fetching paint, getting food, or running errands.
Over time, apprentices gained insight into the master’s methods and witnessed what true mastery looked like in practice. Gradually, they began to practice the craft themselves, receiving feedback from their teacher and fellow apprentices. It created a structured path for growth and remains one of the most effective ways to learn and develop mastery in any field.
There’s a big difference between downloading a PDF of strength training exercises, going to the gym, and figuring it out on your own versus hiring a personal trainer. While you might get stronger by doing the exercises solo, you won’t fully understand the technique because you’re not an expert.
With a personal trainer, you’re doing the same exercises, but they’re watching you, correcting your form, and providing feedback. That guidance can make all the difference in ensuring you’re doing the exercises safely and effectively, which leads to better results.
Practicing in public has two key benefits. First, it pushes you to improve because you’re performing in front of an audience, and no one wants to embarrass themselves. This motivates you to work harder, be more diligent, and actively seek feedback to get better.
Second, there’s a byproduct of doing your work publicly: over time, people start to notice. This creates an additional marketing benefit as your audience begins to grow naturally. When it comes to writing, this means sharing your work publicly.
Seth Godin once wrote a blog post pointing out that nobody ever gets “talker’s block.” His advice is to write the way you talk. He also argues that “writer’s block” is a modern invention. Shakespeare didn’t struggle with it, and the term didn’t even exist in his time.
The phrase “writer’s block” gained popularity in the early 1950s, when many writers worked at ad agencies. Some of them started drinking during the day because they were frustrated by living a life they didn’t want. Instead of writing novels, they were writing ads for deodorant. And that might drive someone to drink.
For me, practicing in public means writing on a blog. When I started my blog, GoinsWriter.com, I was tired of not being noticed. I was tired of saying I wanted to write but not doing it every day. So, I decided to put my money where my mouth was. I resolved to write a new blog post on my blog every single day for two years just to see if I was serious about it. In the first year of writing, I got better.
For the previous ten years, I had been practicing writing sporadically, whenever I felt like it, telling myself, “I’d like to be a writer someday.” Then I made a decision. I told myself, “I am a writer, and writers write every day.” So that’s what I did. I committed to writing daily and publishing blog posts.
Over time, people started paying attention. That’s the power of practicing in public. It helps you improve while building an audience.
Thomas: When I was a freshman in college, our university had just introduced an online learning system, which was completely new at the time. It was the first year they started experimenting with using the internet for education. In my freshman rhetoric class, halfway through the semester, the professor announced that our next assignment would be submitted through this system, and all the other students in the class would be able to read it.
Until then, we had only ever handed our papers directly to the professor. This was our first experience writing in public. It was new for everyone, including the professor. After we submitted the assignment, he came back to class visibly stunned. He didn’t even grade the papers, and we were all confused. We asked, “What happened?”
He explained that the quality of the work was so much higher than anything we had previously submitted that he didn’t even know how to grade it. He essentially said, “You all get As.” The only thing that changed was that our fellow students could now read our writing. That shift made everyone immediately better.
Practicing in public is incredibly powerful because it forces you to be honest about your efforts. When you’re working alone, it’s easy to cut yourself some slack. It’s like going to the gym by yourself. No one’s watching, so you might stop at 13 reps and call it 15.
But when you’re practicing in public, you’re far less likely to do that. The presence of an audience pushes you to put in your best effort.
Jeff: I played music professionally for a year, and the same thing happened to me. Before that, I had been playing guitar for seven years with various bands, treating it more as a hobby. After college, I joined a band and played five to ten shows a week for nine months straight. During that time, I never practiced. I only performed.
As the band leader, I also drove the van, lined up gigs, and acted as the road manager. But every night, for an hour, I’d step on stage and play electric guitar. Performing, which is essentially practicing in public, made all the difference. Performance forces you to do your best in front of others, and that pressure always pushes you to improve in a way private practice cannot.
That repeated public practice made me better than I ever thought I could be. I used to believe, “I’ll never play like that kind of guitarist.” But by the end of the year, I had surpassed what I thought was possible.
Any professional musician will tell you that while you can record songs in a studio, they don’t truly come alive until you take them on the road and see how people respond.
Many great artists throughout history have followed this principle in some form. It doesn’t mean you have to perform on a street corner, but you do need to do your work in front of someone who will either be impressed or disappointed by it, like a teacher or an audience. There’s something about that dynamic that forces you to rise to a level you didn’t even know you were capable of reaching.
How do you practice fiction writing in public?
Thomas: Fiction writers might wonder how to practice fiction in public, and my suggestion is to write short stories. Short stories are far more shareable than handing someone a full novel. Asking someone to read 100,000 words is a big ask, but giving them a short story or offering it as a download from your website is much easier. Plus, it helps you climb the skill ladder faster than jumping straight into writing an entire novel.
In the past, novelists wrote short stories as part of their craft, but that practice has largely fallen out of favor. From a marketing perspective, having a collection of short stories on hand is incredibly useful for creative promotional strategies.
If you’re a novelist, don’t think you’re exempt from practicing in public. You still need to get your stories in front of readers, one way or another. Short stories are a fantastic way to do that.
Jeff: I have a friend who’s writing a novel, and she’s sharing bits and pieces of it on Instagram to build an audience, test her ideas, and get feedback. She’ll take a picture and share a bit of dialogue.
Novelists used to serialize their fiction, too. Hemingway and Dickens found ways to share bits and pieces of their stories with the world. People’s engagement and feedback helped them change the story.
I have a friend who writes children’s stories and recently sold his Narnia-esque book series to a publisher, and he didn’t have a platform. Here’s how he did it: he started by writing a story for his kids and reading a chapter each week to his son’s third-grade class during story time.
After each reading, he opened the floor for questions. The kids would ask things like, “What about this? What happens here? Do they finally meet so-and-so?” He took notes on their questions, ideas, and reactions. He realized which parts needed clarification, which plot points intrigued them, and where their imaginations went.
He wrote a six-book series doing that.
Get creative with who your audience is and what your “public practice” looks like. It could be some friends or a few family members, but it needs to be somebody who will give an objective view on what’s resonating and what’s not. Most importantly, public practice will force you to do better work.
Thomas: Scott Sigler did that with a podcast. After being turned down by all the major publishers, he started releasing his stories as podcasts, one chapter at a time. His listener-readers engaged with the stories, often sharing ideas and feedback. If they were particularly active, Sigler rewarded them by naming a corpse after them in his stories (his books are notoriously violent).
This created an interactive experience. Listeners not only gave feedback on the protagonist’s actions and the plot’s direction but also became part of the story. This approach helped Sigler build a loyal audience, and his efforts paid off. He eventually landed on the New York Times bestseller list and secured a five-book deal with a major publisher that had previously rejected him.
Notably, the version of his book that was published wasn’t the same as the podcast version. It was edited, improved, and even included more listener names.
How can we make the process of getting feedback easier and more enjoyable?
Jeff: I have no idea how to make feedback more enjoyable. You have to decide what you want. If you want to be a professional writer, it doesn’t necessarily mean earning $100,000 a year, although that’s certainly possible. Many people are making a living as writers and thriving. I even wrote a book about this called Real Artists Don’t Starve (Affiliate Link), and the same principles apply to writers.
Being a professional writer means doing important, interesting work that people take seriously. However, part of the job is accepting positive and negative feedback. You don’t get to be a professional writer without receiving lots of both.
So, the real question is whether you are ready for that. Everyone dreams of hitting the New York Times bestseller list, landing six-figure book contracts, going on book tours, and enjoying the highlights we fantasize about. But those successes come with challenges. People will criticize, misunderstand, and even hate you. Being a professional means embracing the rewards and difficulties that come with writing for people.
If that’s what you want, that’s a part of the job. Why not start practicing that now? And if you’re not ready, it’s okay. Just say, “I’m not ready.” But the end of that sentence is, “I’m not ready…to be a professional” because you’re not acting like a professional.
You need to be honest with yourself about what you truly want and recognize that your actions speak louder than your words. Many amateur writers keep their work hidden. They might have a novel tucked away in a sock drawer or short stories gathering dust on a laptop.
Often, writers think they have a complete book when, in reality, it’s just a collection of scattered ideas or a half-finished draft. That’s fine as a starting point, but nothing becomes real until you start acting like a professional. And a fundamental part of being a professional is sharing your work with others. Writing only takes shape as a craft when you let someone else see it. That’s how it works.
Thomas: Going back to your plumber example, if all you’re doing is fixing your own pipes over and over, you’re not a professional plumber. To be a professional, you have to go to someone else’s house, fix their toilet, and get paid for it.
The distinction between professional and amateur lies in their Latin root words. The word “amateur” comes from the Latin word for “love,” while “professional” comes from the word for “money.” Once you’ve been paid for your work, you’re a professional. If you want to get paid consistently, you need to adopt that professional mindset.
I love your approach of blending entrepreneurship with artistry. Many people see these as being at odds, believing that “true artists” have to starve. But historically and practically, that’s just not true. If you’re good at what you do and respect your craft, you can thrive.
You have to respect your work and value it enough to charge for it. That’s both a psychological journey and a journey of quality. You have to develop the skills to create work you’re proud of and develop the confidence to put a price on it. It’s about honoring your craft and treating it with the professionalism it deserves.
Any final tips for writers?
Jeff: The first step of going from amateur to professional is always to share your work with someone. If you have something you have never shared with anyone because you’re afraid, that gap between amateur and professional is not as big as you think. It begins with the practical step of sharing it with someone.
One man who exemplified this was J.R.R. Tolkien. For years, he had never shared his writing with anyone. Then, he met C.S. Lewis while they were both professors at Oxford. At the time, both men were writing in private, keeping their work to themselves. One day, they decided to share a couple of poems with each other. The poem Tolkien shared became the seed for what would eventually grow into The Lord of the Rings.
This small act of courage led to the creation of their literary group, the Inklings, and set off a chain of events that arguably changed the world of literature forever. It all started with two men who were afraid to share their work but leaned into that fear.
Don’t underestimate the power of sharing your writing. It begins with showing your work to just one person, then another, and another.
Connect with Jeff at GoinsWriter.com.
Listen to Jeff’s podcast, The Portfolio Life.
Sponsor
Christian Writers Institute
The Course of the Week: How to Craft Amazing Blog Posts
Your blog is a key for building a platform, establishing your expertise, and gaining a loyal following. In this special video course Thomas Umstattd Jr. helps you craft the kind of blog posts people want to read and share. Whether you are writing articles for someone else’s site or crafting posts for your own blog, this course will help you get to the next level.
When it comes to blogging, Thomas Umstattd Jr. knows what he is talking about. His two blogs have several million page views and he has also coached authors all over the world who collectively get millions of visitors each year.
Use coupon code “podcast” to save 10% or click the link in the show notes to activate the coupon code automatically.