Hi, I'm Juliane with one n

AI thinks I look poreless and slightly skeptical, but the real me is that grinning weirdo with the messy hair on the right. Also, that's rootbeer, because I'm one of only 8 Germans ever in all of history to not care for real beer.

The short:

I'm a book coach, writer, and editor for nonfiction and memoir projects with Simon & Schuster, Penguin Random House, Macmillan, and private clients including Navy SEALs, Apple Executives, and Ironman athletes. I freelance for HuffPost, Wired, Insider, and The Rumpus, and run the writing community Unmentionables on Substack. I was born and raised in Germany by a U.S. Army soldier dad and a German hippie mom. I live in Montana with my partner, the two youngest of our six kids, and zero pets. I eat Nutella the correct way—straight out of the jar—and once ran a marathon. (One out of five stars, would not recommend.)

You can find client recommendations and a selection of books I've worked on here: Five Stars. Recent freelance clips are listed in my Portfolio. Email me at juliane@bergmannconsulting.com

The long:

I love long walks on the beach. Yes, really. Also books, people, flowers, croissants, whales, and magical, mossy forests with giant trees. Not in that order.

Look at that lamination!! Paul Hollywood is proud.

I live in the state with the coldest temperatures ever recorded in the lower 48, while somehow also being home to the largest supervolcano in the US (Yellowstone). I wake up most days wondering if I'll freeze to death or be evaporated in a volcano eruption. One of my life goals is to move somewhere I don't have to wear pants.

For now, I live with my partner and the two youngest of our six combined kids in a little house with one Dr. Seuss tree and a backyard gate that opens onto a walking trail. Something always smells funny in this place, but I love that there's a pile of stinky shoes in the hallway with all the corresponding feet belonging to people I love. My idea of family is lingering around a beat-up kitchen table after dinner and talking.

I lift weights for sanity, read for pleasure, paint for fun, and dance like Elaine. When I'm sad about the world, I watch The Great British Baking Show and Ted Lasso. I believe in friends who are family, hand-written thank you notes, screaming in the car, becoming the kind of grown-up I needed when I was a kid, hugging trees, small chocolate-covered things, and swimming in the ocean.

Working Together

My clients call me “the best editor I've ever worked with/brilliant/exceptionally talented/an utter delight/incredible/a stand-out/tear-inspiring.” However, I didn't go to a fancy school and have no MFA, so if that's important to you, I'm not the right person.

It’s true though. I really am a fucking delight.

But that doesn't mean you won't be angry or crying at some point during the book process. Crying often means we’re getting to the juicy, meaningful, transformational stuff. I'm not an asshole and don't believe in cruelty masking as "tough love." No, thanks. I always invite you to pace yourself, take breaks, and tell me to back off if necessary. But, if you’re not willing to have me push on your bruises a bit, my process won’t work for you.

If you want to write a good book, say the stuff you don’t want to admit to other people. If you want to write a great book, say the stuff you don’t want to admit to yourself.

If you put in the time, effort, and money to write a book, you will need a partner, a collaborator, a fucking book bestie:

I know how to pull your reader in (“MY GOD. THIS IS SO GOOD!!!! Every book should begin with a first sentence like this one. You killed it.”)
I know how to get into your brain and sound exactly like you. Of course, that’s actually a terrible trauma response to growing up with volatile, unpredictable alcoholics and needing to become a chameleon to survive BUT healing is being aware of this and using it for good. (“It’s amazing how in tune you have been with me. I literally laughed but mostly cried all day while reading this. I am floored by how you captured my voice perfectly. Thank you, thank you, thank you.”)
Industry colleagues, peers, and experts agree with my clients (“Your work on this manuscript is the best ghostwriting I’ve seen in my five-ish years of doing this work.” And “I just gave this an initial first read, and HOLY SHIT it’s so good.”)

By the end of your book, I should be your emergency contact, okay?

Or, you know, maybe your alternate.

I’m not advocating a codependent, toxic relationship, but I am saying we really need to like each other personally and respect each other professionally to write a beautiful book. Life is too short to read bad books. And it's definitely too short to write bad books. Or even mid books as my teenagers would say. (My house smells like vanilla cupcake Bath and Body Works and Axe body spray mixed with sweaty socks and tacos).

There are lots of people you can hire to help you with your book. Most of them are going to be fine. Do you want fine? Or do you want someone who rents bouncy houses for their birthdays but also takes people writing supposably instead of supposedly very seriously?

Creative juice is a finite resource. I only have so much of it. I use it first on my own creative projects, then for select clients. I only work with people I like and whose books I believe in. I accept two to three book clients at a time to ensure you get that juiciest juice.

How much does it cost?

The juice is expensive. If you can't pay it happily and without existential dread, it's not the right time. Not too long ago (okay, 14-ish years ago), I was a broke, single mom of four, trying to finish my degree while deciding between electricity and groceries. Plus, those kids needed new shoes like every other week (How is this possible??). Money is a real constraint and I don't recommend going into debt for your book.

If you’re not ready to invest the sticker price of a nice mid-sized sedan or the downpayment on a dilapidated shack in Bozeman where I live, I get it.

I charge a minimum of $50K for a 50K word book, or $200/hr for in-progress work or partial projects, while wearing Target earrings and threadbare vacation hoodies from touristy gift shops. I don't have a fancy office and don't know how to turn on that face filter on Zoom. I will not look "professional." Also, my office is my basement, with the laundry room in the background, so, occasionally, a sleepy teenager will walk into the frame. (Yes, they wear pajamas to school. But, like, clean pajamas they washed themselves, bruh.)

If you are ready to invest that kind of money and effort, and you can get over my slight German accent when I mix up V and W and ask you if you had fun on the veekend playing wolleyball, let's talk.

Email me at juliane@bergmannconsulting.com