This All Started With a Bad Newsletter
(And ended with the launch of something so much better)
The idea for this has been simmering for a while — in scraps of conversations, quiet frustrations, and half-formed dreams. It started the moment the lightbulb of House of Braus went on.
But the catalyst? That came just the other day — through a newsletter forwarded by a dear friend and author I’ve been lucky enough to work with. The newsletter offered a six-week pitch course. A thousand-dollar course. One that promised to all but guarantee a successful query, and sweetened the deal with a “$700 value” of two query reviews… if you signed up right away.
And I just — stopped.
See, I’ve watched authors pay thousands of dollars — not for editorial development, not for real mentorship — but for content they could’ve googled. For surface-level “coaching” that ends the second the payment clears. And in a world that increasingly markets shortcuts and formulas, authors are left with pitch-perfect queries… and pages that fall flat. They’re left stranded. Alone. Overcharged. Under-guided.
And the industry shrugs and says, “That’s just how it is.”
This is Everything I Don’t Want to Be
The truth is, I’ve been sitting on the next phase of House of Braus for over a year. I knew I wanted to create something more than editing packages. Something that offered connection, community, and honest-to-God craft guidance — not the kind you can Google, but the kind you grow through.
But I didn’t know what to call it.
I didn’t know how it fit into the brand.
I didn’t want it to look like all the other noise in the space.
That newsletter — salesy, inflated, disconnected from the actual labor of authorship — helped me realize exactly what I’ve been building toward.
And it’s the reason I’m (re)opening the doors now.
Welcome to the House of Braus (Re)Open House
A creative relaunch. A storytelling revival. A better way to gather.
Inspired by the old Parisian salons — where artists, thinkers, and writers gathered to exchange ideas and inspire one another — this new series is about crafting space for authorship that’s personal, professional, and sustainable.
I’m calling it:
The House of Braus Salon Series
These aren’t webinars. These aren’t funnels. These are moments of meaningful engagement rooted in what actually moves a career forward.
Here’s what’s coming:
Pre-Party Gatherings
Focused events and Q&As on how to actually pitch — with story and positioning in mind. We’ll talk queries, synopses, comps, loglines, and how to hold onto your voice while marketing your book.
Let’s demystify the part of publishing most people pretend to understand.
Dinner Party Workshops
Craft-first live sessions on deep POV, character agency, narrative layering, pacing, revision strategy, and story development. No gimmicks. Just guided exploration, clarity, and time to workshop together.
These aren’t “5 easy tricks.” These are the conversations real editors have with real authors.
After-Dinner Chats
Open mic nights. Reflection circles. Post-revision conversations. Because sometimes what we need most is community without competition — and a place to say, “Here’s what I’m working on. Here’s what’s real.”
Authorship doesn’t have to be isolating. Not here.
Why It Matters
Too many author programs are built on pressure, not progress. They:
Price authors out of real support
Offer surface-level advice dressed up in “bonuses”
Sell the idea that payment guarantees publication
Disappear the moment your PayPal goes through
Meanwhile, authors are left with a polished pitch — but no pages to back it up. A cover letter with no book. Or a feeling that maybe they’re just not cut out for this after all.
I’ve seen it too many times.
I’m not here to replicate that.
I’m here to offer an alternative.
What I Believe (And What House of Braus Stands For)
Craft matters. And not the kind that gets crammed into infographics.
The author-editor relationship matters. Not just for one book, but for a career.
You deserve more than a template. You deserve thoughtful, personal, transformative guidance.
Publishing isn’t a transaction. It’s a relationship-based, slow-burn, emotionally rigorous field — and no one should be selling certainty where there is none.
Creative community is essential. Especially now. Especially with so much noise.
This is why the Salon Series exists.
This is why I’m (re)opening the house.
