We’re excited to introduce you to the always interesting and insightful Ami Hendrickson. We hope you’ll enjoy our conversation with Ami below.

Alright, Ami thanks for taking the time to share your stories and insights with us today. One deeply underappreciated facet of being an entrepreneur or creative is the kind of crazy stuff that happens from time to time. It could be anything from a disgruntled client attacking an employee or waking up to find out a celebrity gave you a shoutout on TikTok – the sudden, unexpected hits (both positive and negative) make the profession both exhilarating and exhausting. Can you share one of your craziest stories?

I got my first book deal by nearly killing someone. True story.

Though that book project led to several others, establishing me as a niche ghostwriter and editor, manufacturing near-death experiences is still not a method I would recommend to writers trying to break into publishing.

I had a horse who was…difficult. I grew up riding and training horses for a professional breeding facility. I have trained hundreds of horses. This one, however, kicked my butt.

Dyfed had the attention span of a gnat and at times I seriously questioned his intelligence. At others, I questioned mine for continuing to work with him.

Dyfed’s ace-up-his-sleeve was what I called “ditching.” He would walk or trot under saddle with no issues, but when asked to canter, he would try a whole arsenal of annoying tricks, including bucking and balking, before finally cantering. Then, he would speed up, setting his head and neck like concrete so he couldn’t be steered or stopped, start running flat out – and throw himself on the ground.

The first time this happened, I thought the horse had stepped in a hole.

I hand walked him back to the barn, feeling culpable, searching him for any lameness. When the ditching began happening with frightening regularity, I called in veterinarians, chiropractors, and acupuncturists. Dyfed repeatedly got clean bills of health.

I consulted horse training friends and knowledgeable professionals, but came up with nothing actionable. So I got wimpy and stopped cantering the horse. I seriously considered putting him down because he was too dangerous to ride and I couldn’t in good conscience sell him to someone else.

As I was nearing the end of my rope, and Dyfed’s time was running out, a friend booked an up-and-coming young horse trainer to give a training clinic at her farm.

He came to Michigan from Texas, a young Australian with an accent so thick you had to pay attention to every word to decipher what he said. Early on the first day a woman tried to explain to him what her horse was doing wrong. He shut her off mid-rationalization with a short “No excuses, Mate. Don’t tell me what the horse can or can’t do. Just get out there and work.”

He was so adamant that we not make excuses for our horses’ bad behaviors that he didn’t want us to “waste time” telling him what those behaviors were. If we just did the exercises he showed us, he said, the unwanted behaviors would go away.

And he was right! The horses all responded quickly to his techniques when we worked them on the ground. Then it came my time to ride. Dyfed walked and trotted with no trouble.

“Lope him off, Mate,” the clinician instructed, using the Western word “lope” for “canter.”

So help me, I couldn’t. I just couldn’t make myself do it. I tried, but my heart wasn’t in it. The horse realized this and speed-trotted around the ring with me jackhammering on his back.

“No, no, no,” the clinician instructed. “Get off. I’ll show you. You’ve got to get the handbrake off.”

He jumped on my horse and asked him to move. Finally, after a few halfhearted cowkicks, Dyfed started cantering. He had a lovely, easy, rocking-horse gait, and I felt like an idiot for not riding through my fear.

Then, the horse picked up speed. He stretched out and began to cover some serious ground.

“Um,” I said eloquently. “You might want to be careful—“

“This is good for him,” the clinician assured us. “He’s just—“

We never found out what he was just doing because Dyfed came powering around a corner, folded his front legs, and flung himself down in the dirt at a dead run. He launched the clinician from the saddle in a perfect parabolic arc.

I was mortified.

:: Oh my Sweet Aunt Fanny! I’ve killed the man! ::

Fortunately, the clinician lived. Not only did he live, but he fixed my horse and showed me how to make the fix permanent. (Side note: For the rest of his long life, Dyfed was a dream to ride. Anyone could ride him without taking out additional life insurance beforehand.)

Later, during the lunch break, I approached the clinician and apologized for, you know, the whole flinging him on the ground thing. We got talking. He asked what I did. I said I was a writer, to which he replied, “I need one of those. This publisher wants me to write a book. I’m a horse trainer. I don’t know anything about writing.”

“When you’re ready to write, call me,” I said.

Four years later, my phone rang. “Hey, Ami? You still want to help me write my book?”

I was 9 months’ pregnant at the time, so I said the only thing that made sense. “Of course!”

That book has been continuously in print now for 20 years. My work on it led to a variety of writing projects for legends in the equine and sports worlds. I’ve been privileged to work with Olympians, world record setters, and gold medalists. I’ve written for cutting-edge headline makers and for those whose decades-old records still stand.

It’s not always fun being the working writer instead of the famous star. I’ve been places where the expert whose book I just wrote is so busy signing autographs that he refuses to shake my hand or even acknowledge me. Some of my biggest and most prestigious writing projects don’t even bear my name, which makes for interesting tap dancing when people ask what I’ve done.

Still, for the most part, I have the best job in the world. All because when someone asked me what I did, I said, “I’m a writer” after my killer horse had finished with them.

Great, appreciate you sharing that with us. Before we ask you to share more of your insights, can you take a moment to introduce yourself and how you got to where you are today to our readers.

Fresh out of college with my shiny new degrees in English and education, I was head of the proofing department for a small advertising agency. For two years, I routinely worked 100 hour weeks — until the day I realized I’d rather put my energy into building my own business than building someone else’s.

For more than 25 years, I’ve been a freelance writer, editor, writer’s workshop facilitator, and content creator. Being in business for myself has allowed me to provide for my family while caring for my husband who passed away from brain cancer in 2016.

I love teaching. I love watching people learn new skills and grow into the power their new knowledge brings with it. I realized that when someone hires me to ghostwrite their book, they still don’t know how to do it themselves. If they want to write another book, they need to hire another ghost. So, since 2019, I have focused more and more on coaching people how to tell their own stories.

My clients write in a variety of genres. I work with novelists and memoirists, business thought leaders and biographers. What they all have in common is a fierce desire to tell their story their way, without “winging it” on their own. That’s where I come in.

I am so proud of my clients. They trust me with their stories and with their dreams—and together, we find a way for them to write to “The End.”

Have you ever had to pivot?

My most recent business pivot happened just over a year ago.

In 2023, I was working as a freelance copywriter for one of the premier hybrid publishers in the world (once rated the #1 Company Culture in America). My father had passed away the previous year, and I was finishing up taking care of the last of his estate. Then, in May, my employer imploded.

Overnight, I was out of a job, along with at least a hundred others.

Though I have been a freelance writer and editor for decades, I had done most of my work under the umbrella of one contracting organization or another. I had never had to advertise my services.

That had to change. Immediately.

Determined to never again allow a single company to become my primary source of income, I hired a business coach and spent the next two weeks articulating everything that defined my all-time favorite clients.

Within a few short months, I discovered that my employer’s demise was an unexpected gift. Losing them as my safety blanket pushed me to increase my network, revived some business plans I’d put on ice during the pandemic—including starting my own publishing company—and breathed new life into my writing career.

MuseInks Press would not exist if my former employer had remained in business. And many of the clients I’ve helped write their manuscripts in the past year would still have “write a book” as a dream, rather than a reality.

We’d love to hear the story of how you built up your social media audience?

Last year this time, I had about 120 followers on LI and had done zero advertising.

Today, LinkedIn is my primary storefront and the source of much of my business.

When the company I freelanced for closed its doors overnight in May of 2023, I realized I’d never done much to build my own self-sustaining business that wasn’t dependent on someone else.

I hired a coach and took his advice. Within 2 weeks I had my first client. Here’s what I did; what I continue to do:

* Have a clear offer that you can articulate well.
* Know exactly who your perfect client is. Know what problem they have that you can solve.
* Post regularly (I post at 8:30 a.m. EST on weekdays). Every post should speak directly to your perfect client and offer them value.
* Engage with everyone who engages with you.
* Intentionally build connections with both colleagues and ideal clients.
* Consistently include a call to action in your posts that is simple for your ideal client to respond to.
* No hard sales tactics. Instead, realize that your unique value lies in relationships with your clients. Build relationships and your business will be fine.

In addition to these things, I contribute to LinkedIn articles. As a result, I’m a Top Writing Voice on the platform, which helps validate the advice I give on my posts.

There are so many social media options to choose from. If you’re just starting out, my advice would be to stop trying to be on all of the platforms. Choose one that you like and focus on building an involved following on it. Hire a coach, if possible, to better understand how the algorithm affects you. And don’t be in a hurry to use AI-generated content—nothing could be further from your authentic true voice. Your voice is the only thing that can genuinely connect with the humans you want to patronize your business.

Contact Info:

• Website: http://www.amihendrickson.com/
• Linkedin: https://www.linkedin.com/in/ami-hendrickson/
• Other: Substack: https://museinks.substack.com/

Image Credits

Scott Gane Photography
Karen Hopkins Studio