Your Book Needs to Offer More Than Facts. It Needs to Offer Opinions.
How to turn your boring statements into interesting ideas
I recently worked with an author who struggled to articulate the main idea of each chapter of her book in one compelling sentence.
My client’s book teaches her readers what they don’t know—what no one tells them—about a certain time of life. Then, every chapter covers a different domain/topic about that stage. It’s a pretty straightforward structure for a nonfiction book, one that thousands of books just like it use successfully.
But the problem came because consulting on this topic, helping clients through this time of life, is something she does every day. She is so tired of delivering basic information on this topic that she decided to write a book to hopefully keep her audience better informed. And that led her to over-focusing on just the facts. It’s an easy trap to fall into.
And by the way, I’m keeping her information and book topic anonymous because the book is still in production with the publisher, but let’s say for the sake of example that she was writing a book about retirement.
In her first draft, each chapter began with a short hook and a sentence that usually went something like this:
“This chapter will help you learn what to expect when…”
…you file for Social Security benefits
…doing your taxes for the first time after retirement
…you suddenly don’t have a job anymore
…you have tons of free time on your hands
…deciding where you want to live
…your grown kids expect you to help with babysitting
…you want to travel more
…you have health issues
Many books have been written with this kind of formula, and it’s an okay starting point, but it has a few drawbacks:
It gets real boring real quick. It was boring for her to write and boring for me to edit because chapter after chapter felt basically the same.
It sets each chapter up to feel more like an encyclopedia entry than an enlightening and compelling piece.
It doesn’t set the author up to bring in interesting stories—because you don’t need stories to illustrate facts. You need stories to illustrate arguments.
Sometimes it can be misleading or way too open-ended. For example, the chapter on suddenly not having a job anymore might actually be about redefining your identity outside of your job—but the reader’s not going to know that from the current description.
In short, each chapter lacked an argument, an opinion, something interesting she had to say. Moreover, the book wasn’t delivering any value to the reader, because the reader could simply Google those prompts (or ask ChatGPT) and expect to get the same kinds of answers.
Here’s something I say to my authors often:
Your opinion is the most valuable thing you can offer your readers.
I teach my clients and Map Your Book students that not only should the entire book have one central argument/opinion that can be captured in one sentence—but each chapter should, too.
If I want to simply know the details about what to expect when I retire, I’m way more likely to Google the specific question I’m wondering about: “how to do taxes after retirement,” “pros and cons of retiring in Mexico,” etc. But if I’m seeking to spend $25-30 on a book, then I want more than just the facts; I want to know how to maximize my retirement. I want to know what the author thinks is the very best way to live an abundant life after retirement.
I want the author’s opinion, based on their (hopefully) years of experience, training, and credibility on this topic. I want to hear stories about other people they’ve worked with who figured out how to live their best life—stories that open my eyes to an idea I might not have thought about.
My Hungry Authors podcast co-host Liz and I teach that your book needs a topic + a unique angle on that topic—and this is exactly what we’re talking about.
So how should authors deliver their opinions on topics, not just in the book, but in every single chapter?
I found a super simple construction from author and longtime editor Jack Hart in his book WordCraft: The Complete Guide to Clear, Powerful Writing.
The formula goes like this:
[subject] + [transitive verb] + [object] = powerful argument
Hart calls these “theme statements.” I prefer “arguments,” but you could call them “big ideas,” “main ideas,” “theses,” “opinions,” whatever. It all means one sentence that captures what you’re trying to say. For example, the theme statement/argument of this post is, “Your opinion is the most valuable thing you can offer your readers.”
The subject and object of this sentence are switched around a little bit, but they’re still there:
Your opinion [object] is the most valuable thing you [subject] can offer [transitive verb] your readers.
Another way to think about it: What’s the most valuable thing authors can offer their readers?
Answer: Their opinion.
Now I’ve asserted something that I believe about the way the world works. Hart writes, “The beauty of a theme statement built around a transitive verb is that it contains an assertion about reality that can anchor your writing project.” (Wordcraft, p. 21)
Let’s apply this idea to the hypothetical retirement book.
“This chapter will help you learn what to expect when you file for Social Security benefits” might instead become, “You [subject] should file [transitive verb] for Social Security benefits [object] as early as possible.” Now you have an idea to defend, an argument that you’ll need to back up with data and interesting stories.
“This chapter will help you learn what to expect when you suddenly don’t have a job anymore” becomes, “Retirement can be an empowering opportunity for you [subject] to redefine [transitive verb] your identity [object] outside of your job.”
“This chapter will help you learn what to expect when you have tons of free time on your hands” becomes, “Fill your time in retirement [transitive verb phrase] with the people and hobbies you love best [object].” This construction has a directive to the reader, so the subject (you) is assumed.
Hopefully you can see that using this formula is going to result in much more interesting chapters and provide way more value to your readers.
Happy writing!
Tips & Tidbits
A Caution About Oversharing on Social Media
While writers are everyday encouraged to “build a platform,” we are not the ones who benefit from our efforts on social media. This is especially true for writers sharing about things that are deeply personal to them. As Freya India writes, “Your vulnerability is very good for engagement.” Worse still, sharing to the wrong people could set you back in your healing. This is a good caution to “Stop Opening Up About Your Mental Health Online.”
Permission to Write Messy
I’m an avid journaler, but I really don’t talk about it much in this space because, well, my journaling isn’t for public consumption. And it wouldn’t look good on Instagram. My handwriting is super sloppy. I definitely don’t write anything brilliant or even good in there. That’s why I was so relieved and heartened by this post from Katherine May about her messy, private journaling practice. This particularly resonated with me: “I’m allowed to be incoherent, self-pitying, tacky, boring or stupid in this space. It’s nobody else’s business.”
The Circle of Security for Your Memoir
I am a sucker for psychological principles applied to the writing process—and Lisa Cooper Ellison does not disappoint in this great article about how to use a parenting concept called “The Circle of Security” to learn how to structure your memoir.
Questions to Ask a Potential Publisher
If you are considering signing a contract with a publisher, you can’t make any assumptions about what your publisher will or won’t do for you! This list of questions from Kathleen Schmidt will help you to ask the right questions and get clear on exactly what you can expect throughout the publishing relationship.
Books Are a Lagging Indicator
You have to do the thinking work before you do the writing work. Liz and I talked to Christa Hardin about this on episode 29 of the Hungry Authors podcast. Great books are a reflection of often years and years of mental preparation on the part of the author—and that makes the writing easier, too. In this LinkedIn post, Ryan Holiday talked about how feeling “stuck” in his writing is a sign that he hasn’t done enough preparation.
What’s Bringing Me Joy
Next Friday (March 1!!) is a big day. First off, I’ll be in California celebrating my nana’s 90th birthday. It’s likely the last time I’ll get to set foot in my childhood home, as my parents are moving soon to Lake Tahoe. It’ll also be the first time we’ve had respite since becoming foster parents and I’ll be missing the girls like crazy, so suffice it to say it’s going to be an emotional/bittersweet weekend.
But beyond that… Liz and I also have a big announcement to make next Friday. I am SO EXCITED!
Any guesses on what it is? I’ve been dropping hints in the last several newsletters. :)
See you next week,
Ariel
Once again, really helpful advice. Thanks! A question: In prescriptive nonfiction, I assume the subject will (almost?) always be “you.” Correct?
Just playing around here with applying Hart’s formula to one of my chapters. Instead of my current “explaining the ‘forgiveness is lifting off a heavy weight’ metaphor” change to “what you should take and what you should leave behind from the ‘forgiveness is lifting off a heavy weight’ metaphor.
Am I on the right track?