Are you someone who thinks in stories? Do you love to get lost in a book? Does wordplay bring a smile to your face? If so, a career in publishing may be in your future. But where to start? Who are the people who make the decisions about what the rest of us read—in books and magazines, online, and on social media? How did they get started? What skills do you need? We invite you to dream big and bold with our new series, This Could Be Me.

This Could Be Me: Digital Marketing with Tessa Miller

Tessa Miller, Narrative’s Social Media Maven, is also the founder of Morpho Creative, LLC. In more than ten years of digital marketing experience, Tessa has worked with a number of media companies, technology companies, and women-owned businesses.

A social media maven is part strategist, part storyteller, part trend-watcher. I create engaging content that’s aligned with a brand’s voice, plan out posting schedules, respond to audience engagement, and keep an eye on analytics to refine what’s working. I also stay up-to-date on platform changes and emerging trends so my content stays fresh and impactful.

My week is a blend of content planning, writing, design, scheduling, and community engagement. I make sure to align content with book releases, author events, and relevant literary holidays. Social media for a literary publisher is special because you’re connecting stories to readers, and that means tapping into emotion, culture, and identity in a deeper way. My goal is to connect with our audience and foster a vibrant literary community online. It’s not about selling a product; it’s about building a community.

I got started through a combination of professional curiosity and personal passion. With a background in environmental studies, sociology, and Latin American studies from Tulane, I developed strong research and communication skills early on. My interest in social causes, animals, and storytelling naturally pulled me toward digital platforms where I could combine creativity with purpose. I honed my skills through various roles that combined creativity with strategy, leading me to specialize in social media. Joining Narrative Magazine has allowed me to merge my passion for storytelling and literature with my expertise in digital engagement.

Great writing is a must—especially the ability to adapt tone and style for different platforms. Strong visual intuition helps a lot, whether it’s choosing images, designing graphics, or curating an aesthetic. Organization is key, and being data-curious (knowing how to read metrics and adjust strategy) is what takes you from good to great. Empathy is also crucial, as understanding and connecting with your audience is at the heart of social media.

Most fun? Tapping into my creativity by developing content that resonates with our audience and brings literature to life. I also love when I get to celebrate milestones, share empowering stories, and highlight diverse voices. The most challenging part is probably the pace—it’s fast, and the algorithms are always changing, so ensuring our strategies remain effective and relevant while staying true to Narrative’s voice is a balancing act.

It’s deepened both! Content creation has made me more intentional about what I share and why, and engaging with our audience through social media has deepened my appreciation for the literary community. It’s also introduced me to amazing creatives, thought leaders, and communities that I wouldn’t have found otherwise. This broadens my sense of aesthetic every day as I look through more accounts and get to see different ideas that would never come into my brain. Social media really does have the power to connect people when used thoughtfully.

Social media increasingly favors video content and authentic storytelling. This shift requires adaptability and a willingness to experiment with new formats. For aspiring social media professionals, it’s important to stay informed about platform trends and to develop a versatile skill set that includes content creation, analytics, and community engagement. It also means knowing how to balance trends with timeless storytelling and staying grounded in purpose. It’s easy to get caught up in the whirlwind of trends and new features, but at the end of the day audiences crave authenticity, transparency, and storytelling over curation.

I love following accounts that blend heart, humor, and purpose. That includes thought leaders like Marie Forleo, creatives in the publishing and design space (a weird one that I love, @ralphtyndalldesigns), environmental educators (like @arcticfoxdaily), and of course, lots of animal rescues and dog content (shout-out to my dog, Cholula!). I also keep an eye on innovative brand accounts for inspiration, those that are doing something different or meaningful with their platforms. There are so many different inspirational accounts out there that it’s hard to get bored with them, even though I work with social media constantly!

This Could Be Me: Writing with Tryphena L. Yeboah

It’s hard to say whether there was a particular moment in my life when it registered, although I can’t think of a time when I wasn’t writing. I wrote diary entries religiously as a child (and I still do, although with much less frequency), and when I was in primary school, I spent the after-hours of school waiting for my dad in a teacher’s garage, which was filled with books. I recall that my favorite assignments from school were composition exercises in which I had to describe my family or reflect on how I spent my weekends. I took those very seriously, careful not to leave out any detail. And for years, my brothers and I wrote and mailed letters to my mom, who lived in another country most of our childhood. So even before I realized what a powerful tool language was, I was already reaching for it, expressing myself through it, and attempting to create meaning with words. I suppose I should say I knew I was a writer when I made it a practice of my life and developed a devotion to doing it—and to doing it well—no matter what.

As strange as it is to admit, I think my fear of public speaking played a part here. I have long confessed and revealed my awkwardness and nervousness with speaking. Somehow, everything I wish to say comes out of my mouth in spurts and fragments. I flounder. I forget words. I don’t think to pace myself because my heart’s beating too fast. When I finally let it out, it’s as if someone has punctuated my well-thought-out response. I may be exaggerating, of course, but it often feels that way. There’s also the timidity I grew up with, which I think I’ve worked hard to break out of. But because I couldn’t speak up, because I couldn’t advocate for myself, because I was afraid of what would happen if I did open my mouth, I turned to writing. On the page, I could be honest and brave and, much to my surprise, fierce. I can’t explain it. There is a kind of freedom there. I’ve often said that my characters are more courageous than I could ever be because for all the restraint and cowardice in me, many of the characters I write are rebellious, outspoken, vindictive, and all things audacious. If I have courage, it is because writing may be the only time in my life when I am not looking over my shoulder, wondering what anyone would do or say. I crouch behind the cape of fiction to interrogate my observations about the world and clarify my thoughts about the complexities of the human condition.

Narrative published my story “First Light” in 2019 when I was an MFA student at Chapman University. That was the first time a short story of mine was published in the US, and it was also my first year in the country. Before then, a few of my short stories and poems had been published in Daily Graphic, a national newspaper in Ghana, where I am from. I was studying to get my journalism degree at that point and interning at media houses in Ghana; I don’t think I even fully grasped how cool it was at the time to have your work in the newspaper. Once, my father cut out a page of my story and posted it on our wall; he showed it to everyone who walked into our home. He was very proud! When I graduated in 2017, I worked as a reporter. I covered events and wrote news stories for print and TV. It wasn’t fiction, but even then, there was some storytelling involved. I had to consider how to frame a story, how to begin and end, which quotes from interviews to use for the article, what note to end on and perhaps, most importantly, how to present accurate information in engaging and precise ways. So I’ll say four years, perhaps?

I was overjoyed! I couldn’t believe it for a long time. I was a cowinner with the brilliant Morgan Talty. More than anything, the recognition was extremely reaffirming for me. It was the first time I had received such a prestigious award for my work, and when I found out that writers like Natalie Diaz, Saidiya Hartman, and Ocean Vuong were previous winners, I was truly stunned and grateful. These are writers I admire. Vuong’s Night Sky with Exit Wounds was one of the first poetry collections I fell in love with—his writing of historical trauma, his command of language and linguistic registers, the surprise and questions he weaves in his work . . . I mean, to be in that magnificent company? It was everything I didn’t even realize I wanted! If I’m being very honest, the Narrative Prize made me start dreaming and made me aware of just how much was possible for me if I did the work. The work, for me, will always come first, but it is often hard, sometimes daunting, and deeply solitary. And every now and then, an award, a note from a reader, a new agent—something breaks through the long and intense practice of writing, and it feels so good and revitalizing!

Hmm, this might be a little hard to answer. When I write, I want to explore as deeply and clearly as I can the themes and relationships in the story. I am particularly interested in character-driven stories and continue to be fascinated by the depths of interiority—how much I can complicate the inwardness of a person, how far I can go with twisting and manipulating all the layers of who one is. I think I know a work is done when I feel I’ve been able to capture what it is I want to say. I tend to put a draft away right after I’m done and return to it later. That’s when I notice inconsistencies (I have the tendency of neglecting some traits in a character that I have long convinced the reader of), focus on building the world with vivid details, and play around with language. The latter is important because first, I want to write clean and sharp sentences, and second, I don’t want to get tired of asking the question, “How else can I say this?” It is what jumps at me from a page when I’m reading: a word used in a new and unexpected way, a surprising description of an ordinary gesture, a distinct imagery that stays with you. I get excited when I notice all the clever and inventive ways writers hold up words and turn them around in their hands. All of this to say, when I get the sense that a story’s ready, it usually means I’ve done my best to bring not only clarity to my ideas but also precision, coherence, and beauty.

My students google me and find my work online! They read it and then talk with me about it. It’s quite delightful!

Reading is an important part of writing. When I find writers I like, I’m often interested in who they like to read. In reading, you get to see how writers create vivid worlds and how characters evolve; you notice the conflicts in the story and how themes can be richly explored. I’m also a strong advocate for building relationships with people who appreciate art. Surround yourself with people who read and write. Sometimes an active literary community makes a difference—there are stimulating conversations about writing, book recommendations, planned writing sessions, book clubs, etc. Finally, I would say to make a consistent practice of writing. If it is something one wishes to take seriously, then it should be approached that way too, with diligence, a sense of urgency, and a curiosity to learn and grow.

This is only my first year of teaching, so I have a long way to go! This semester, I’ve taught Jamaica Kincaid’s “Girl,” “Blue” by Russell Banks, and two short stories by Alice Munro: “Boys and Girls” and “The Bear Came Over the Mountain.” I am eager to introduce stories by Nadine Gordimer, Doris Lessing, and Jennifer Makumbi. My students and I talk about a range of things in the classroom, but I often return to the question of what a character wants, and sometimes that isn’t readily clear, but I make space for that conversation. It is important for me to really get them thinking about how a story takes the reader on a journey. We want to be sure that the reader cares enough about what’s happening in the story to go all the way with us, and that it is worthwhile in the end. So we grapple with the question of stakes and tension, of what propels a piece forward (and what makes it lag) and we work on showing the reader what we want them to imagine. We’ve also talked about the kind of surprise ending that works and the kind that makes the entire story fall apart. One pulls together all the relevant threads in the story to achieve that effect, and another is shockingly unexpected and deeply unsatisfying because it is often unwarranted, as though the writer had been holding a relevant piece of information back and failed to establish connections throughout the story. Anyone can withhold information and spring it out on you in the end. The hard and compelling thing, I tell them, is to give the reader what they need to understand and follow the story, while skillfully finding ways to turn things around, using everything in front of you. It is believable and exciting and shocking because it was right in front of the reader too, but they just didn’t see it until you made them.

This Could Be Me: Copyediting with Mimi Kusch

Managing Editor Mimi Kusch has worked in the publishing industry for more than thirty-five years and has been a key member of Narrative’s staff since our founding.

Copyediting varies depending on what type of piece you’re working on and how much editing it needs. When a piece is very clean, you simply fix punctuation and grammar, and when a piece needs a bit more help, you smooth out grammar and syntax, move sentences around, delete unneeded or repetitious stuff, and ask the writer to fill in missing information or to clarify meaning. (This itself can be a fine art, since queries need to be worded tactfully while also being effective at getting what’s needed from the writer.) At many publications, including Narrative, the editor who initially accepts the piece for publication does a deep-dive edit, looking for clarity, consistency of voice, and opportunities for deepening, before handing it off to the copyeditor for final polishing. Copyeditors also compile a style sheet, including rules for usage, italics, capitalization, using numerals or spelling them out, etc. Copyeditors also refer to a standard style guide such as the Chicago Manual of Style, which is what Narrative uses. A big part of copyediting is ensuring that the piece adheres to the style sheet and is consistent in usage.

When I was in college, I started copyediting people’s theses and discovered I was good at it. When I graduated, I took lots of classes at UC Extension in copyediting and publishing in general. I started doing freelance editing for various presses, and then landed a job at Harper & Row as a project editor. I farmed out most of the copyediting to freelancers and learned a lot from reviewing the work of really good copyeditors (and learned a lot in a different way by redoing the work of the not-so-skilled editors). After I left Harper I landed my dream job of freelance copyediting for Narrative, eventually becoming managing editor there. I copyedit all the pieces on the site and work with the writers as they review the editing.

(Thanks for the kind words!) For me I think it’s a combination of having an ear for language, being very detail oriented, and having a strong need for communication to be clear. A fascination with style guides, and a willingness to learn from them, is a bonus. Being a big reader is essential, at least it has been for me, in that it has helped me hear a writer’s voice and not get in the way of it with my edits.

When I first started out, it was all done on paper, with a colored pencil, and when I needed to query an author, I attached Post-It notes to the edges of the manuscript. Now everything is digital, and I edit everything in Microsoft Word, using the track changes feature to show my edits and queries. The file is sent to the author, who makes their changes in the same file, and then the file can be cleaned up and finalized. It is so much easier to edit in Word—you can use search and replace, for example. On paper, if you change your mind about a stylistic issue (oops, I really should have capitalized that word), you would need to go back to every page and look for the word to be changed. In Word you can fix this issue in under a minute. Inserting author queries is way easier too—you just type in a comment, which shows in the margins of the file.

I am a singer, and though most of my experience is with classical music, these days I am involved with a weekly music circle in which we take turn teaching songs and learning harmonies together. There’s nothing in the world like singing with a group of people. Especially now, amid the chaos, it feels healing to have voices mingle and mesh. And reading lots of lots of poetry!

Using track changes in Microsoft Word is now the prevailing mode of copyediting in the industry.