Jerry Seinfeld once said he didn't go into standup comedy expecting much from it.

He just wanted to be one of them.

Them: as in one of those people who can stand on stage, talk to a group of strangers, and somehow—miraculously—pull them out of their own lives and make them laugh. He didn’t care how big he made it; he just wanted to be one of those comedians.

Being an aspiring author, I used to get the same feeling walking through airports.

The cool, intense covers. The titles. The names! The fact that there was, among the shared experiences of civilization like bathrooms and eateries and ticket lines, a story depot where you could pick up a writer’s latest scribblings, to me, represented the pinnacle of writerly success.

If I could just be there one day, just one option among many, that would be the superpower.

Welp.

I'm one of them now.

(Of course, I’d argue I’m an especially fortunate one of them, given the great publisher I’ve had the luck to work with.)

It’s not just the airports, either. Being in indie bookstores, the owners of which have been ridiculously supportive. One reader from Canada even mentioned THE PERFECT HOME was a featured book at his local Shoppers Drug Market. It’s surreal. So I'd like to say thanks to friends, family, and readers, because people have been sharing THE PERFECT HOME as it appears in the wild, including:

• Newark, NJ

• Chippewa Falls, WI

• Austin, TX

• Chicago, IL

• Boston, MA

The dream has indeed come true. But speaking of dreams come true…

…wouldn’t it be cool if I could publish another book with Scribner?

Funny you should mention it.

The news has technically broken already, but now that I have some time to write this newsletter, I can officially announce that I’m reuniting with THE PERFECT HOME editor Sabrina Pyun and Scribner for my follow-up book, DON’T LOOK AWAY.

(I won’t go into too many details just yet as it’s still a work in progress. But I hope it’s going to be a fresh mix of elements familiar to fans of THE PERFECT HOME and unexpected turns along the way.)

For the longest time, my dream was to land an agent. Because once you land an agent, the odds significantly go up that you’ll one day publish a book. And if I could publish a book that would be in actual stores—well, I’d rather do that than climb Mount Everest.

Now, thanks to Scribner and the same team who helped bring THE PERFECT HOME to those shelves, I get to do it again.

Hope you like it.

🖋️Writing Tip: Submerge the “I”🖋️

Okay, now that I just talked about me, me, me, let me explain why you should never do what I just did.

Here’s one area where fiction and non-fiction writing often overlap:

Bury yourself.

A long time ago, I discovered that when I sent freelance writing proposals to would-be clients, the responses would be far better each proposal began with some little note about them: their project, their goals, maybe a lingering question they left out of the description.

But if I started the proposal with “I am a writer with experience in…” ?

No responses.

One day, I set up a project of my own. Now freelancers were pitching me. Proposals came in by the dozens. Invariably, they would all start with some version of:

I am an experienced writer…

But occasionally a pitch might pop out because someone started it off with you, or specifically addressing the details of my project.

And I went: a-ha. So that’s how pitches are supposed to sound.

Next time I sent out pitches, I went against my “I, I, I, me, me, me” instincts. Now, I would try to start with “you” or “your project” as often as I could.

“Love your approach here,” I might say, or “Drafting a memo for your board of advisors is a great idea—you can really highlight X, Y, and Z here.”

Poof. My response rate went up.

This also works in fiction because “submerging the I” means shortening the gap between the writer and the reader. There’s no need to filter everything through “I.” You can just present the details as they are.

If everything is “I smelled” or “I noticed,” the reader starts to think: “and I…am bored.”

Let’s take a paragraph from Pahlaniuk himself to demonstrate. First I’ll write the bad version—the version filtering everything through “I.”

Of course, it’s still got the interest of the specific details Pahlaniuk chose, so there are engaging elements here.

But notice how it feels “off”? Like trying to chew gum with a numb tongue, something is weirdly flavorless about it.

Now submerge the “I” like Pahlaniuk.

Here’s the published version:

There it is. Crisp, engaging, immersive.

So when you can, submerge your “I.” There are more immediate ways to express thoughts, move characters around, and describe setting details than starting with “I noticed” and “I saw.”

The goal, after all, is to let readers forget they’re reading at all.

(Especially if they picked your book up in an indie bookstore, or waiting for their flight.)

Thanks for subscribing to my newsletter and letting me do anything BUT “submerging the ‘I’” as I talk about the latest in my authoring journey.

Until next time,

DK