Hi, I’m Dr Georgina Green,*
My mission is to help you create a marketable book without second-guessing yourself. I want to nurture your self-trust as a writer so that you can create a book your audience will read until the spines are creased, and the corners are foxed. A much-loved book.
I promise not to deflate you with one-way feedback or an impersonal red pen. My red pen is green, and it wants you to keep writing.
Working with me is all about collaborative, empowering conversations. I won’t assert my authority and ‘fix’ your book for you. I will help you tune into your self-trust and uncover the much-loved book hidden in your first draft.
When I work with you on your book, you are the expert. Because several years ago I almost threw away my reputation and half a decade of work on my book because of well-intended but ultimately disempowering, suggestions. It was only when I stopped trying to jump through hoops to please other people that I finally finished my book.
I found a way to tap into what I knew,
So that’s my mission. But what’s my story? Read on to get to know me better.
For six months, I strung them all along.
It was horrible. Everyone (my mentor, my husband, my publisher) thought my book was almost finished. I’d say it was just being checked over, crossing the ‘t’s, dotting the ‘i’s. When that became unbelievable, I’d even imply I’d submitted and it was not me but the publishers who were dragging their feet.
The truth? I was utterly stuck and filled with shame. I turned up every day to write, but I just couldn’t find a way forward with rewriting. I’d never suffered from writers’ block before. This was something different. I was writing, it just wasn’t getting me anywhere. Everything felt like a backwards step. I even wrote to a clinical psychiatrist to ask for help (she turned me away of course). I knew it was only so long before I was found out.
At last, I took the chance to talk to a life coach. I wish I’d known about book coaches then, but she helped me see what had been holding me back. I had been trying to do what others had suggested, instead of focusing on saying what I had to say and taking ownership of my book. I had lost my self-trust as a writer.
After getting help, I was on fire. In a good way, I mean. On the commute to work, I dictated thoughts about what I really wanted to say. I wrote it up in the evenings.
So how did I become a book coach?
I was thirty-eight weeks pregnant when I returned the final corrected proofs of my academic book of literary criticism. By the time the author’s copies arrived in the post, one hundred years had passed. In new mum time. Or three months in normal human time.
Reviews were beyond what I’d ever dared hope. But now that the book was here, as well as the baby, I found myself wondering what was next.
It wasn’t just the baby. I remember watching my granny’s face as she read the acknowledgements and the dedication to her late husband, my dear Grandad. When she looked up at me, there were tears in her eyes. But she didn’t read a single word more. She laid down my sharp-edged book with reverence. Then she picked up her battered Bernard Cornwell novel.
Over the next year, I couldn’t suppress the feeling that my heart just wasn’t in academia anymore. But what else could a brain like mine actually do? I had no idea. So I packed it all away and watched my son sleep.
Ten minutes later, he broke my heart.
“Bye mummy”, he said, hanging his stiff Spiderman bag on the mini coatstand.
Not even a hug. They padlocked the gates behind me.
The phone rang. Mum, checking I’m not still crying, I guess. And would I read a draft of the children’s novel she’d been writing? She’d worked on it for months, and she wanted to know what I thought.
Maybe she was just trying to keep me busy, but I read her seedling novel late into the night.
It all rushed back to me. The love of story that had set me off studying literature in the first place. I was once again the kid sneaking the light back on to read, cheering on Roald Dahl’s Matilda (and concentrating really hard to see if I could move things too). I was the awkward teen falling in love for the first time (with the stable boy from Flambards -tell me I’m not the only one?).
But that’s not all. I could see an incredible story hidden just beneath the surface.
My spider senses are tingling
As I shook off my brain, shedding biscuit crumbs and tiny socks from its crevices, dormant knowledge and skill came to life. I could sense what the book could be, and I could sense where mum was holding back.
My new ambitions weren’t what I’d always expected. This wasn’t the start of a career as a rockstar academic. Instead, I wanted to support creative people, real live writers, to tune into their self-trust and write books that get read in the real world. Books like the ones that got me through late-night breastfeeding marathons. Novels like the ones that I fell in love with as a teenager.
Now, I work as a hybrid of creativity coach and editor for novelists and memoirists who want to write a much-loved book. I’m a book coach.
I offer hands-on attention to the words on the page, without the disempowering effect of the red pen; without setting myself up as the authority on your book and your voice.
I learnt the hard way that the kind of one-way feedback you get in reader’s reports or unilateral manuscript assessments can paralyse a creative person. Instead, I aim to build a relationship with you and to understand (and help you tap into) your hopes, fears, and values. Everything I do is grounded in the context of a collaborative process. All rooted in energising and profound conversations about your work and your vision.
Explore my Services
Letters to an Aspiring Writer
- Bringing words of encouragement and craft to your inbox every other Sunday.
- Lifting you up and nurturing your self-trust as a writer.
- Keeping you informed about how you could work with me, and any special opportunities.
- Giving you direct access to my free office hour, to use
howeveryou like (run something past me, ask a bit more about what I do, tell me about your book, anything).