By: Alexandra Perez
There are people who teach writing, and then there is Jenny Watz, who believes that telling your story is an act of courage. She meets authors at the place where truth begins to tremble, that uncertain space where memories sit heavy and unspoken. For Watz, writing is not a performance. It is a release. It is a reckoning. And in many ways, it is the thing that brought her back to herself.
Watz has worked with entrepreneurs, consultants, and industry leaders who come to her with expertise they want to transform into a nonfiction book. Most of them are not trying to write memoirs. They want to articulate their ideas, their methods, and the lessons that shaped their work. Yet even in business books, real life has a way of surfacing. People often carry experiences they have never spoken aloud, and those stories influence the clarity and confidence behind their message. When they sit down with her, they expect structure and strategy. What surprises them is how much truth rises to the surface when they finally give themselves permission to speak.
She remembers one early project with a veteran who wanted to write a leadership book rooted in his time overseas. The moment he began sharing his story, something deeper opened. “It can be really cathartic,” Watz says, “You never know whose life you might touch. Maybe you will never meet them, but your words could be the reason someone keeps going.” For Watz, the emotional honesty that emerges in these conversations is not about turning business books into memoirs. It is about helping authors release the weight behind their expertise so their message lands with purpose and clarity.
Watz learned the importance of clarity the hard way. Losing her job years ago forced her to confront the parts of herself she had ignored. She had always excelled in communications and editing, yet the deeper work she would one day do as a coach was already forming beneath the surface. It was not just about fixing sentences. It was about helping people see themselves clearly, sometimes for the first time.
Many people come to Watz believing they need the perfect outline before they can begin. Others assume their story is too ordinary, too messy, or too painful. She challenges all of it. Writing, she insists, is not reserved for the fearless. It is for the honest. And honesty takes practice. “People hold back because they think they need to be ready,” she says. “If not now, when?”
Her sessions often start with unraveling, not writing. Authors talk. They circle memories. They falter through details. Some cry. Some laugh at their own discomfort. And Watz, with her mix of directness and disarming humor, guides them through it. She never pushes for vulnerability, yet her presence makes it safe for people to tell the truth without shame. This is where she shines. She listens between the lines. She notices what someone avoids. She hears the part of the story that needs space.
Watz believes healing and clarity do not exist in separate rooms. They happen together. When someone writes through a painful chapter, they often reread it with a different kind of strength. That shift is what she calls the moment the book begins to work on the writer. It is also the moment the writer begins to understand their impact. “If you have information that could help someone and you keep it to yourself,” she says, “you are kind of a jerk.” It is a bold statement, but it reflects the heartbeat of her work. Stories are meant to move.
What sets Watz apart is her refusal to let anyone tell a diluted version of their truth. She is not impressed by polished narratives that skip the messy parts. She wants the real story, the one someone is afraid to write. Because she knows that is the story readers will feel. That is the story that will make someone pause, breathe, and whisper, “Finally, someone gets it.”
In her work with nonfiction writers, she focuses on taking them from the emotional weight of their experiences to the clarity of their message. Watz believes this matters just as much in business books as in memoirs. A business book should never read like a manual. It should reveal the human being behind the expertise, because that is what makes readers pay attention. She uses simple but powerful questions to guide authors toward that depth. What changed you? What almost broke you? What taught you something you can now teach others? These questions are not just prompts. They are lifelines for the stories people have hidden, and they are the key to creating business books that actually move people rather than merely inform them.
Yet her emotional depth is balanced with a fierce practicality. She teaches structure without stripping away authenticity. She helps shape narratives without taming their honesty. And she reminds every writer that vulnerability does not mean chaos. She believes in purposeful storytelling, and she knows that purpose comes from someone choosing to tell the truth in a way that gives others a path to follow.
Outside of coaching, Watz grounds herself in the dogs she cares for at the senior rescue in St. Louis. There, she sees stories of abandonment, loyalty, and resilience in a different form. Her own dog, Chloe, came from that sanctuary, and caring for her has become another reminder of how fragile and precious every chapter of life can be. The compassion she gives to those dogs mirrors the compassion she brings to her authors. Nothing is too broken to be held. Nothing is too old to matter.
Watz is currently writing her second book on how buyer psychology influences nonfiction storytelling. She wants to help writers understand how their words create emotional pathways for readers, and how intentional structure can guide someone toward clarity and change. It is the next evolution of the work she has poured herself into for years.
Jenny Watz believes every story has power. She believes people can heal through truth. And she believes that the bravest thing anyone can do is pick up the pen and begin. That belief continues to shape her work.
Disclaimer: The content provided is for informational and inspirational purposes only and should not be construed as medical or psychological advice. Readers are encouraged to consult with a healthcare professional for any medical or mental health concerns.
