The Moment Everything Shifts
In the desert, there’s a certain moment when night’s hush breaks. A sliver of sun steals over the mountain ridge and flashes a pink glow over rocks and trees, touching the ears of a coyote trotting back to its den. The first territorial notes of birdsong spark up, from one Joshua tree and then another and another. Stillness shifts to bustling, purposeful, full-throated activity.
When I speak with authors, I look for that shift—it’s as palpable to me as the Mojave morning sun warming my shoulders. One moment the author is speaking about their mission—suddenly they’re on a different plane. Their voice changes, the pace of their words quickens, and I think, “Oh, THIS is how they move mountains.” It’s an electric moment when an idea catches fire, when weighty ideas rise up. I feel it but more importantly, they feel it.
I used to think these moments were serendipitous. Now not so much. Why?
Each morning, I walk my driveway reading stories in the soil—tracks that tell of hunts where the jackrabbit got away, the focus of a coyote’s path, the trace where a bobcat passed through. Each morning reveals the night’s collaborations and competitions, the intricate ways different members of the ecosystem move across the same terrain. Professional trackers read the terrain and spot the patterns. I have too, in my work on hundreds of books with publishing teams.
Breakthrough follows patterns—and patterns can be designed. As a ghostwriter and developmental collaborator, I seek to design the conditions where authors experience that transformation, and when book projects shift into a higher gear. Because trying to track down the elusive muse is a terrible business strategy.
The Science of Breakthroughs
I don’t often turn to research on cross-domain analogical reasoning but the story of German chemist August Kekulé’s dream of a snake kept appearing in, well, my dreams. His sleepy decision to doze in front of the fire led to a cross-domain leap from mythology to benzene’s molecular structure. It wasn’t an accident or luck or the muse visiting him. A frustrating conceptual impasse had been bridged by a mind long working in conditions that encouraged analogical thinking across distant connections.
I’ll go into more of the power of pattern recognition in my July 31 newsletter (subscribe here if you want to hear more about my obsession with connecting dots). The point is, it is possible to design breakthrough moments. And yes, I realize that sounds like I’m claiming to be the Queen of Breakthroughs. It’s what I aspire to be!
3 Ways I Engineer Cross-Domain Breakthroughs
Transfer: Spot the Right Crossover Moment
When I work with a nonprofit founder, I listen for how they describe their community-building process—not just what they do, but how they think. When they say “I look for what’s already working and amplify it,” I recognize their book’s structure should do the same with reader knowledge. When they describe “creating safe spaces for difficult conversations,” that becomes their approach to handling controversial topics. I help them see that their professional methodology is their book’s secret super weapon.
Bridge: Connecting the Personal to the Universal
I interview authors not just about their expertise but about their transformation moments. When did their perspective shift? What prompted their mission? I hunt for the point where their personal breakthrough mirrors the systemic change they’re advocating—where their individual healing reveals the collective wound they’re addressing. That intersection becomes their book’s organizing principle because it’s where their authority feels most authentic.
Spark: Priming an Ecosystem
Each book project has its own ecosystem, with the author as the keystone species that shapes everything around it. I can sense what the ecosystem needs to thrive: A ghostwriter to weave voice through complex material. An editor to clarify without diminishing impact. A designer to elevate mission to inspiration. Whether I’m ghostwriting or editing or leading the team, I direct collaborations toward that intersection where something new emerges that none of us could achieve alone.
When Everything Comes Together
The authors I work with also feel this shift: They say that suddenly their book isn’t something they’re dragging toward the finish line, but something that’s pulling them forward with its own momentum. This joy—when everything comes together—happens in a moment that lasts, like the desert’s morning symphony when the whole ecosystem hums with shared purpose. (It’s the literary equivalent of watching all the planets align, except infinitely more practical.)
Where Your Breakthrough Is Waiting
Your book’s breakthrough might be hiding in the intersection between your expertise and an unexpected domain, or in collaboration with someone whose skills complement rather than duplicate your own. Like reading morning tracks in the desert soil, I’ve learned to spot the patterns that predict when an idea is ready to catch fire. The question is never whether your breakthrough is possible—it’s whether we can create the conditions that will make it inevitable.
And if you’re thinking “This sounds suspiciously like she’s offering to help with this exact thing,” you’re not wrong! It’s what I do when I’m not checking out coyote tracks at 6am Pacific time, getting ready for a call with one of my East Coast genius authors. Need a breakthrough? Contact me!
And if you need a monthly tips for breaking your book open with a breakthrough (and get creative about doing it), subscribe here to The Queen of Everything: Field Notes from the Front Lines of Book Creation.
Elizabeth Smith is a ghostwriter, developmental editor, and book strategist with two decades of publishing experience—and a southpaw with a mean right hook. Between a NYC boxing gym and her Mojave Desert maison, she helps thinkers, creatives, and organizations articulate their ideas through books that resonate deeply. Ready to transform your vision into a book with impact? Let’s connect!
