Welcome back to B is for Book Coach. I’m B, midwife of big ideas and book development partner for writers and non-writers alike. And for the next few minutes, you are my author.
Don’t worry. That doesn’t commit you to anything more than what you’re doing right in this moment. Because the best authors are simply people who show up as themselves, for themselves and for their readers.
Today, we’re making space for a magical Guided 5 Minute Outline.
For the last few weeks, I’ve had my head down with client work.
This bubble is full of brilliance.
Authors stepping into something deeper… Colleagues holding space beside us… And mostly, I prefer to stay in this space, trusting that folks will reach out when they need to.
But then I looked up.
At the state of the industry.
At the pressure we’re all under.
At how noisy and extractive it’s all become.
And then I had to breathe through the impulse to burn it all down. Because every time I come up for air, I see the same thing.
For every remarkable person I watch emerge as the author they didn’t know they could be, I see so many more frozen at the edge of their brilliance.
I am once again reminded that reaching out is never as easy as it sounds.
There’s a scene in the movie Hook, where the grown-up Peter Pan has to save his children. They’re right there in front of him, suspended above the ship deck, stretching as hard as they can to simply touch his fingertips.
But he’s forgotten who he is.
He thinks he’s Peter Banning, an overworked average guy—much Captain Hook’s dismay.
With the kids hoisted up above the deck of the ship, Hook tells Peter that all he has to do is touch their fingers and they can go free.
Either the real Pan would emerge and their epic battle would ensue—or the impostor would be sent away and the hunt for Pan would continue.
Now.
As a kid with a fear of heights, that scene stuck with me. As a parent with that same ick, it hit even harder.
The grown-up Peter didn’t yet remember that he was the Pan, so he couldn’t fly. He could only climb up the ropes and cling to the mast, willing to face his biggest fears in order save his children, but still unable to find the part of him that actually could.
If you don’t remember this scene—and how hard Maggie was reaching out but Peter just couldn’t let go to reach back—stop. Go watch the clip and come back.
Because there are moments in the creative process that feel just. like. that.
The pressure is loud. The words are close. And the person we most want to reach is just. right. there.
But we’re stuck on the mast, unable to move.
So many authors tell me that the thing they want most is to just help one person.
And from the vantage point of that first spark of a book idea, they can almost see that moment coming to life.
But they also know that they’ll have to pour everything they have into making sure that book will be helpful.
All of their fears, all of their doubts, all of the uncertainty about who they’re allowed to be…It all becomes a gravity too strong for even Peter Pan to break.
Meanwhile, the reader is right there, suspended in their struggle, reaching for even the slightest brush of connection.
And if those authors aren’t careful, or supported well, they’ll wind up clinging to a never-ending process as a way to keep them—supposedly—safe. Unable to actually reach out to touch the person they came there for in the first place.
So while my 5 Minute Outline exercises are usually pointed toward one specific kind of content, this one is about remembering who you are.
You can reach your people.
It doesn’t even have to feel that hard.
You don’t need to be perfect. You definitely don’t need to perform. You just need to remember who you are and why you’re here.
So let’s use the rest of this time together to remind you how to fly.
(If you are new to this space, you can catch up on the 5 minute outline process here.)
As always, we’ll begin by writing the numbers one through five on a piece of paper, clearing some space to be relaxed and reflective, and then dive in.
Minute One/Number Three: What’s the one message that’s worth all of this effort?
Remember that beginnings are hard, so we’re not going to start there.
Nothing else would have gotten Peter Banning to climb that mast. Only his kids. And later in the movie, it’s a present memory of his kids that helps him remember that he’s Peter Pan.
They are his happy thought. They bring him back to himself.
So move your pencil to the number three on your list—we’ll get back to numbers one and two soon—and write the question “What’s the one message that’s worth all this effort?”
Take a deep breath. And let’s begin.
[Timer starts]
Why are you here?
What’s the message that’s worth facing your fears?
Doing all of this work?
The thing that has pulled you so far out of your comfort zone?
If nothing else came from all of this…
The struggle…
The vulnerability…
The stretching…
What is the one message that you want to land?
What do you want to offer that reader? What’s worth all of this effort?
[Timer stops]
Remember we’re not looking for right answers or perfect story points in this exercise.
Peter Banning worked himself into oblivion trying to do everything right. But when he was squeezed—when his kids were in danger—the real truth emerged.
So if multiple things came up in that minute, circle the one that feels like the truth emerging.
Then shift your pencil to number one on the list as we get ready for minute two.
Minute Two/Number One: What is your reader reaching for?
Sometimes we feel like we have to present as superheroes—expert enough, researched enough, experienced enough—for the reader to believe us.
But Maggie didn’t have to believe her dad was the real Peter Pan in order to believe he could help her.
If he had only reached out, it would have been enough.
Your reader is in the same place, stuck in some kind of struggle, reaching out for anyone who will actually make contact.
An author who sees and cares about them is more of a hero than one who has all of the credentials but can’t ever connect.
Next to number one, write “What is my reader reaching for?” and take that big deep breath…
[Timer starts]
What is your reader reaching for?
What do they desperately need solved…answered…seen…?
Where have they been reaching for that?
Where will they keep reaching…
Looking for that connection…
Until you finally reach back?
[Timer stops]
Now stop writing, and once again circle what seems most relevant or interesting, at least for right now.
And even though this falls at the top of your outline, I want you to forget anything you think you know about what “should” open a book…or a chapter…or any kind of written communication.
Pretending to be Peter Pan doesn’t get anyone off the ground.
See your reader with clear eyes. Wherever they’re reaching out, that’s where your first words will need to reach back.
With all that said—let’s shift to number two in your list, and we’ll move on.
Minute Three/Number Two: What are you holding onto?
This minute usually brings up the biggest range of ideas—but it’s because I typically frame it as what’s in the way for the reader.
This time, I want you to think about Peter holding onto that mast, unable to let go even for a second.
Don’t worry about what kind of content this will point to. We’ll translate it all as an outline later. For now, just be present to this moment. This question.
See what comes up.
First, write “What am I holding onto?” next to number two, and take that big, deep breath.
Ready, set…
[Timer starts]
What is keeping you from fully reaching out with this message?
What are you afraid to say…to see…to be…
You might start by naming the fears you’ve already faced while writing.
Give yourself credit for that.
But what else is there?
What beliefs are you holding onto so tightly that you just. can’t. let. go.?
What are you holding onto?
[Timer stops]
Now stop writing, even if you haven’t written anything yet or have a full page with plenty more to list out. It’s okay.
You might have to come back to this one now and then, and that’s perfectly fine.
For now, I still want you to circle the most significant thing or things that you see in this list—and expect that more will come to mind over time.
Now let’s shift down to number four on the list, remembering that we already named that one, driving message on number three.
Minute Four/Number Four: What will make you believe?
Since Hook was a family movie in the 90s, we all know that Peter Banning remembered who he was, an epic Hook vs Pan battle ensued, and everyone made it home, happily ever after.
But before that could happen, he had to believe.
He didn’t have to prove it to anyone. He didn’t have to make them believe. In fact, others believed in him long before he saw it in himself.
He had to believe. And then he could fly.
On number four, write “What will make me believe?” and remember that it’s deep diving that we’re doing here.
We can only get so far in one minute, and that’s okay.
Let’s see what comes up.
[Timer starts]
What will make you believe that you can deliver this message?
That you’re the one to deliver it?
What have you seen…
Experienced…
Executed…
What have you felt that drove you to start writing in the first place?
What made you believe back then?
What will make you believe again?
[Timer stops]
The truth is, it’s not actually the one message that’s worth all of this effort.
Because if someone else had already sufficiently delivered that message, you wouldn’t be here right now.
Something in you knows that it has to come from you. That you are the one to say this. The only one.
If that reason came up in this minute, circle it. If something feels close, you can mark that too. And let’s wrap up at number five.
Minute Five/Number Five: What adventures are next?
As much as I wanted to see more of Robin Williams as a fully realized Peter Pan, I love movies that tell complete stories and refuse to dilute them with a sequel.
Still, it’s an emotional moment when the movie ends with the adventure. And it’s become even more poignant now, hearing Robin Williams delivers the most pivotal line of the whole movie:
“To live would be an awfully big adventure.”
Because endings are never really the end. And the same is true for what you’re writing right now.
Once you’ve delivered this message into the hands of the person who’s reaching out for it—and when you’ve done so as a fully realized, authorial version of you—the game has only just begun.
With your pencil at number five, write “What adventures are next?” and we’ll wrap this up together.
[Timer starts]
Where will you go next?
What becomes possible for you after you’ve let go of the “mast”?
What becomes possible for your reader after they’ve made contact?
What can you do together?
What will you face together?
What does it look like to live with this message, this identity, this connection fully realized?
[Timer stops]
Stop writing, and if you blocked out multiple ideas, again circle the one that feels most resonant. Shake out your muscles. Put down your pencil. And let’s see what came up.
Outline Recap
Every 5 Minute Outline exercise is designed to bring your intentions to the page.
They become milestones within a book or chapter, roadsigns that tell you you’re on the right track and can keep moving on.
But while you’re answering questions, know that they have been designed with core story structure principles in mind, so that every answer will lead to content that works.
So when we take these super internal, author-focused questions and translate them into milestones, we can get an outline something like this:
Tell your reader you’re on the way. Trust that what you know about your reader is enough to show you where to meet them. You don’t have to reach all the way out here, but at least let them know you see them and care enough to come for them.
Let your own struggle be your guide. Trust what you know about yourself to resonate with your reader. Whatever fears and blocks make it hard for you to stand behind this message with all the audacity of a [insert your vision of an author here] will probably be similar to the assumptions and hangups that have kept your reader from seeing this message already.
Land the message that’s worth the effort. Trust that you’re writing for a reason. If you wanted a vanity project, you’d do something that felt more…well…vain. You didn’t sign up for a publicly visible existential crisis just to feel good about yourself. This message matters. Stand behind it.
Remember who you are and why you’re here. Trust that your impulse to write comes from a place of deep knowing. And whatever led to that moment—that thing that made you see this message and say “yes” to it—is the same kind of thing that will make your reader see it too.
Build for the next adventure. Trust that this is only the beginning. That the person who’s reaching out for you right now isn’t doing so because they want to knock you down. They want to get out of their trap. They want to fly too. So, where are you going to go?
Hey, thanks for creating this space with me today.
Whether or not you’re ready to dive into writing just yet, remember that the best authors show up fully, just as they are. That’s all it takes—and you're already doing it.
Be sure to subscribe on Substack or wherever you listen to podcasts to catch every coaching moment to come. And when more of your book is ready to emerge, the space we made today will be here waiting for you.
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