Women in Business Q&A: Dara Lurie of Transformative Writing

Dara Lurie writing coach


Dara Lurie writing coach 2

 

 

 

Workshop leader, manuscript coach, and author Dara Lurie has an uncanny sense for the topical, even when she’s exploring themes that are deeply personal to her, like interracial identity, body image, and addiction. A graduate of Vassar College and Hunter College, she has worked as a legal assistant, a bartender, an actor, and a college writing instructor, and now runs Transformative Writing, a writing-coaching service through which she offers a variety of creative nonfiction workshops and one-on-one coaching for writers in the Hudson Valley and beyond.

The author of the memoir and writing workbook Great Space of Desire: Writing for Personal Evolution, Dara works with writers and aspiring writers who want to explore personal truths through their writing and become their most authentic selves. She sat down to talk about her writing and coaching process, the evolution of the writer, and the challenges and rewards of running a creative business.

 

Robin Catalano: What’s your earliest memory of being interested in writing?

Dara Lurie: My first journal entry was when I was 12 years old, in a blank book my aunt gave me for art. I had gone through a couple difficult years and felt disconnected from my peer group, and I poured my heart out about it. I had very serious conversations with myself about the world and who I was, and what I liked and didn’t like. I started it on April 5, so it’s an anniversary for me every April 5.

It wasn’t until I went to Hunter College and did the MFA program that I realized how journal writing could fuel my “serious” writing. I didn’t think there was a connection before that.

RC: Did you always gravitate toward creative nonfiction?

DL: I was an avid fiction reader, and I still am, starting out in my teens. Ursula K. Le Guin was a big figure for me—the fact that she wrote books where she had planets where gender norms were totally inverted. I was 13 or so, and I didn’t have these big ideas about gender norms. I also loved Ray Bradbury and Robert A. Heinlein

When I started to get serious about my own writing and books, about 20 years ago, that’s when I started reading more memoir and nonfiction. Through the process of writing and discovering, I realized that through my own creative nonfiction, there’s a lot of fictive space that needs to happen. Writers tend to think, It really happened, so I just need to remember what really happened. But you actually need to reimagine what happened.

From there I started to appreciate all the fiction that exists within nonfiction and memoir. I got really interested in the world of ideas. One of my favorite writers is Malcolm Gladwell—he looks at groups of people doing things and gives case studies of these collected stories and experiences.

Over the decades, we’ve seen a shift in the way people are doing creative nonfiction and journalism, and Gladwell is a great example. Gone are the days of that dry, factual voice. There’s fact, there’s quantitative data, but there’s a lot more appreciation of an intelligent, subjective perception. That allows the fictive space to come in. . . . We’re showing who we are in our writing more.

 

RC: What was your work background before moving full-time into creative nonfiction and coaching?

DL: Right out of my graduate program, I taught creative writing at Pace and City College in New York. But a few workshops a week weren’t paying my bills. Later I was an adjunct at college in New Hampshire. I was teaching three freshman core courses in composition, essay writing, and writing mechanics. I had so many students who didn’t want to be there but had to be. My whole life became about preparing the classes, giving assignments, grading papers. It was so incredibly time consuming that I stopped working on my own book.

It was easy for me to make a decision to go back to being a legal assistant in New York, which I had done before. You do the work, the paycheck is better, you go home, and that’s it. It gave me the time and the money to complete my book.

 

RC: Tell us about the inspiration for Great Space of Desire: Writing for Personal Evolution. Why did you end up choosing to self-publish?

DL: The book was born from a great need to understand and reconcile the disconnect of the economic, political, and social realities of being a person of color in this culture. I grew up with my mother’s narrative, dealing with her anger at not being allowed as a woman of color to become a professional ballerina. Some of the first stories I remember were about her dance, her auditions. She was accepted and had this one shot at dancing with the Ballet Russes, but then the sponsor said no because of racial issues. Those stories were so powerfully embedded in my imagination.

But the world I was encountering was different, and her story wasn’t my own. I wanted to understand what my place was. I wanted to delve into the realities of being a biracial person—who are you and what do you stand for?

When I started, I thought I was writing about racial integration, but as I got near the end, I realized I was writing about something even more universal: one’s own emotions and intellect, and how to we take ownership of how we really are. By the end of the book I had completed an extensive arc. The thematic development that was in each of the stories—I was the protagonist and I was finding out who I was while I was writing the book. That felt amazing. I felt like I had done exactly what I had set out to do.

When I was ready to publish, I went out with an agent and the book made the rounds of some of the big, prestigious companies, and the rejections started to come in. I realized that some editors didn’t like it not because of the style, but because they couldn’t find a marketing vision for my book. Or I’d hear, “We’ve already published a book on XYZ.” They hadn’t, really, but I started to see how writers and topics get pigeonholed.

I realized this book wasn’t just my heart and soul, but also my intellectual property. I started to take this really grown-up ownership of it, instead of being this writer with the agent waiting for publishers to say yes. I thought, I don’t want the publishing industry to be the gatekeeper of my book. I really felt my book stood on its own merits. I was also fortunate that I had good resources. I had a good editor, and a close friend who’s a designer who did the layout. I didn’t really know what I was doing—I kind of fell into it—but I made it work. I used Lightning Source as my print-on-demand format.

 

RC: Do you work with writers of all levels of experience? What’s the most common request you hear as a coach?

DL: I work with writers of all levels. My litmus test is whether the client has a commitment to reaching a goal. If the commitment is halfhearted, I don’t try to acquire them as a client. No amount of coaching or editing will get the project done. I most respect the desire to tell one story. It’s an incredibly powerful energy.

Part of my job is to bring the technical know-how. If you have a set of ideas or experiences that are compelling to you, I can help you technically craft that into a story. There has to be some idea, some passion, some sense of conviction. It’s a financial commitment, so they can’t come into it with nothing. They don’t have to know exactly what they want to write about, but they may have an idea they feel is important and can’t really get at it. Whether it’s a 200-page book or 60-page book, it doesn’t matter. You don’t have to conform to traditional publishing standards. What I think is a waste of time is if your ideas are so diffuse or unclear, you spend all of your time trying to clarify them.

Most clients who find me are writing something that’s memoir based. But I’m also getting a good number of requests from professionals who have a desire to create a bridge between their creative writing and what they’re doing in their professional lives.

 

RC: Walk us through your process in coaching a writer. How much of the process is similar for everyone, and how much is unique to the particular writer?

DL: The process can be very different for different writers. People who come to me with a blank page, we start with conversations to tease out their ideas, and then writing prompts and exercises. With a client who comes to me with part of a manuscript, I read it, and we talk about her intention for the book. The exploratory phase is important in both cases.

For a book project, it’s a six-month minimum agreement. We do biweekly 90-minute conversations, plus conversations on e-mail in between—those might be additional writing prompts, such as, “Dig deeper here.” If you come with a manuscript, it depends on the shape it’s in. I haven’t had anyone come to me with something that’s almost finished.

Ideas, even when they are fleshed out, there are inconsistencies and blank spaces. Often writers will have a slew of ideas. That’s great if you’re writing a philosophy book, but not great for a memoir. You need to be able to engage the audience on a couple of points or they’ll tune out. I work with the writer to make their ideas engaging, so they’re not just ideas; they have a life to them.

 

RC: What were the most challenging parts of getting your coaching business off the ground?

DL: The most challenging part is exposure—how do you get your name out there in a credible way? It’s about consistency over time, and really believing in what you’re doing, even if something isn’t quite right. You can regroup and do things differently the next time.

I wasn’t an in-house editor, so I didn’t have that structure and those networking connections. It was continuous trial and error. I always had my foundational work, my creative workshops, so I would try to regroup with the people I was meeting from those workshops. At some point that equation flipped for me. My workshops aren’t the primary source anymore. Making connections that are beneficial, that are in alignment with the business, has been crucial.

 

RC: What has changed most about you as both a writer and a businessperson since you first started?

DL: As a writer, I’ve become a lot more focused and efficient with my time. When I started, I had a hazy idea of what I was looking for, but I had strong instincts and that kept me on course. At this point, I’ve been doing so much functional writing, writing on deadlines for other people. I’m able cut to the chase a lot faster. Last year I committed to a new book project, and now I feel a lot clearer about the arc. This is a big change from my first book.

As a businessperson, what has changed the most is thinking of myself as a businessperson! When I started as a writer, I didn’t think of myself as a businessperson. I’ve been crafting myself into the form of a businessperson that feels comfortable to me. My primary value is relationship and strong communication. You have different needs and goals as a businessperson. They don’t need to hear my life story; they need me to get them to their goal. One size doesn’t fit all.

 

RC: What do you think are your biggest accomplishments as both a writer and a coach?

DL: My biggest accomplishment as a writer is to have written a really strong first book. I’m proud of it. And I’m continuing to learn new things about writing and starting to apply them in a focused way to a second book that will be very different from the first. I’ve been very persistent and willing to learn and ambitious.

As a coach . . .  Some of the clients who have come to me didn’t think they were writers at all. But they’re developing a sense of confidence and throwing themselves at a challenge with incredible energy. That’s something they can use for all their future projects.

 

Dara Lurie writing coach

 

RC: What has surprised you the most about coaching other writers?

DL: How much I learn from each of my clients. And what I learn about coaching and the individual process.

 

RC: How many hours do you typically work in a week? Is there any particular task that you love…any that you could do without?

DL: Between my book-development clients, my teaching and performance work with the TMI Project, and fellowship with the Good Work Institute, 40 to 50 hours a week. This is a phase where I’m not spending as much time on my own writing, and that has to change, but it has been a critical period for projects. When my fellowship is up in March, I’ll be able to devote more time to writing.

I’m not one of these turbo-driven, work-myself-to-death people. When my brain doesn’t want to work, it just won’t. But sometimes a gust of energy will just sweep in at seven or eight at night and I go back to my chair and spend another two or three hours. I haven’t been able to regiment myself, and I’m trusting myself to just get the deliverables done. I always have. When I try to box myself in, it doesn’t work.

 

RC: What type of marketing do you do to get the word out about Transformative Writing?

DL: Recently in the last year or two, I had this online coach and I really liked her style. She had us look at all the things we were doing and what was working and what wasn’t. One of the things that was, was word-of-mouth referrals. She convinced me to simplify and stop worrying about things like using Google Analytics to see how many people were visiting my site, or loading my site up with WordPress plugins, and focus on building those local connections. It is important to have a website. It doesn’t have to be the biggest, shiniest, most interactive site ever, but it does have to have some substance and look and feel professional.

The marketing I’m focusing on now is being involved in interesting projects that have a value proposition that is in alignment with who I am, like the fellowship with TMI. I get a boost from them talking about me in their marketing, and from me talking to people who are involved with them.

I have an e-mail list, but I need to be better about regularity. I don’t like to dash something off. I like to have something interesting to say.

 

RC: Did you ever have a moment where you thought, This is too hard or I’m done!?

DL: No. With an individual client I may have come close to feeling that. But I’m somebody who really believes in the strength of commitment. If I give you my word that I’m doing to do something, I’m going to do it. Being reliable and accountable is up there in my values. Even when I’ve felt frustrated with some of the incidentals, underneath there’s always been this work that I love.

 

RC: Your mission and thematic work in interracial identity, addiction, and body image seem even more relevant now. How does it dovetail with what’s going on in popular discourse, and how does it diverge?

DL: In my mind it all connects. One way it might connect externally is in this question of addiction and addiction models of behavior. What I’m seeing now in the world is a huge version of this family addiction model—the individual who’s supposed to be the center of gravity who influences everyone so deeply that there’s no other truth but their truth, and other people tune out. And with the sexual abuse stories we’re hearing now—the enablers, the scapegoats, the kids who get a pass—we’re seeing a huge, society-wide example of an addiction model. We’re seeing it all play out.

Racial identity, absolutely. The lid has been blown off the question of racism in our culture. I feel such a sense of relief. In the ’80s, there was this assumption that we had dealt with our racism. But that was a white perception. It’s been a simmering pot on the stove. What we’re seeing now is that pot blew its lid and everything is boiling over. Now we’re having different reactions: “I’ve been saying it; you didn’t hear me.”

My purpose as a writer, which has been to create space for new cultural perspectives and dialogue, I feel like it has more room to breathe. It was relevant 20 years ago, but people are more willing to listen now. What’s going on in the world—this is what it’s taken to get our collective behind off the couch.

 

RC: Tell us about your current writing project.

DL: In the mid-’80s, after I finished college, I moved to West Berlin and lived in a squatted house made up of journalists and political activists. I stepped into this very turbulent period of German history. I was drawn to it without fully understanding the implication of it. What was going on in Berlin was the 180-degree opposite of what was going on in the US. They were having a full-on conversation about their history and how not to repeat it. I loved that energy, that open, honest, fearless conversation. I lived in Berlin for 6 years and started writing, but I wasn’t finding my voice. That brought me back here in the early ’90s to tell my own stories.

Sometime last spring I had this idea to reexamine all of that. I want to understand what it was about the people at that time that was so rich in discovery. How were they able to face that time in their history so honestly? I want to gather stories about collective experience, personal stories from ’70s all the way up until now. How can I relate it to what we’re going through now in this country?

I want this book published in some form before the 2020 election. I need to move on to the next stage.

 

RC: How do you creatively recharge?

DL: I read books that I feel like reading. It feels like such a luxury to be ensconsed in the corner of my couch with a cup of tea and whatever book I want to be immersed in. Being outside, being in nature, and dancing are other big rechargers for me. I create my own dance parties.

 

RC: What’s the worst (or least useful) piece of business advice you’ve ever been given, and what’s the best?

DL: The worst ideas I tried that didn’t work for me were about there being a definite business model I had to fit into. It seemed very cookie-cutterish—putting this emphasis on the sales piece and doing webinars and “You have to do X, Y, and Z to get clients.” It might work for some people, but that’s not who I am. I learned from trying out these approaches and systems, and it strengthened my belief in who I am.

One of the best pieces of advice was from this one coach who asked me to figure out how do I get my best clients. It’s from word of mouth, directly connecting with people. I think I knew it, but to have it affirmed, it made a big difference. But I’m always on a learning curve and I’m always interested in improving what I do.

Sign up for Dara Lurie’s newsletter to find out where she’ll be teaching and which projects she’s working on. And read my previous Women in Business Q&A here. 

 

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