I’m going to break out my Book Yourself Solid coaching hat and introduce you to some associated philosophy: There are people we are meant to serve, and others not so much. And our job is to do everything in our power to reach those we are meant to serve.

This philosophy is not only relevant to entrepreneurs and service-based professionals, but to writers as well.

Let me explain.

Life opens wide when you dispel with the notion that you should write to please a generic audience.  The truth is, you get to write to those who will naturally resonate with your style and message. The others? Furgedabout them.

I ran into this book in a little Irish bookstore a while back.

I could hardly wait to slink off to the side and crack the thing open because the title had grabbed me by the throat.

First of all, I’m a runner who’s neurotic about her weight; secondly, no surprises here, I love the irreverent use of cuss words. It appeals to the rebel in me. And, I’m sorry, I have no idea what’s wrong with me.

I love that the author was gutsy enough to risk driving sweet, old ladies away with such language, like the one standing beside me with the latest bodice buster, who gave my precious book and me a look of pure disgust. I’m not going to get all judgmental here, but I couldn’t imagine chatting with her over a pint, let alone running a marathon beside her.

And that’s just perfect. I’m the target audience; the old lady is not.

Do you have a clear bead on your target audience, the specific type of client (or reader) you’re meant to serve?

Do you know them well enough to describe their sense of humor? Their world view? What motivates them? What leaves them cold? Their value system?

Think about it: Would your clients respond to the brashness of this title, the promised tone of the book? Or would they object, and reach for the respectably titled, very unflashy Running For Beginners?

These two books appear to cover the very same topic; but in a completely different manner, don’t you think?

If your clients (readers, target audience, you catch my drift) crave a good whipping, some good old-fashioned browbeating with a touch of humor thrown in for good measure, then why on earth would you write a book that makes you sound like a scientist, or the school librarian?

Why would you attempt to appeal to anybody but them?

Might humor be a better tool than, say, dry facts?

Replace the word humor with scientific language, or Biblical references, or lots of sports analogy.

Are you using the right tone, the right approach, for your particular audience?

Just a little food for thought.