The Audience of One: Why I Write for the Kid in the Orange

Most people write for a market; I write for a ghost. Specifically, I write for a skinny, 10-year-old boy in a neon orange swimsuit.

In my office hangs a photograph of that kid. The bright swim trunks and tank top were classic Kmart special—back when neon was king and Kmart was the destination for summer style. (dating myself with this post)

I remember being so proud of that outfit, posing my frail frame during a backyard get-together at my uncle’s house, determined to show the world my muscles, or lack of them. I had no clue just how much my life was about to change after that shutter click.

The Cost of Acceptance

Somewhere along the way, I began trading bits and pieces of that kid away. I bartered his uniqueness away for acceptance, searching for value in the eyes of others.

Even in that photo—behind the vibrant neon and the wide, backyard smile—a frail insecurity was already beginning to show itself. If you look closely at his eyes, you can see the first quiet shadows of doubt. He was already starting to wonder if "just being him" was enough, or if he needed to start performing to keep everyone happy. It’s the look of a child beginning to scan the room for permission to exist. Some could call it an anxious attachment style fueled by a performance-based acceptance environment.

When I work with writing clients, one of the first things we do is solidify their "Audience of One." I tell them: Don’t say you’re writing for ‘general readers.’ Who is your book really for? What do they look like? What is the one message you would tell them if you had five minutes alone together?

For me, it’s always the kid in the orange.

Showing Up for the Version of You That Needed Help

People often think we write because we have it all figured out, but the truth is the opposite: We write to discover what we know. As I put words on the page, I am digging through the layers of adulthood to find the truths that were buried long ago.

I want to show up for him in the ways he needed an adult to show up back then. I want to protect his heart and encourage his creativity. I want to tell him that his humor is unique and beautiful—not something to be stifled—and that his childlike trust is a strength, not a liability.

I want to look him in the eye and say: "Your feelings matter." The things that hurt you are important. Most importantly, I want him to know that the very pain he is walking through is giving him a unique perspective—a lens through which he will one day help others find their way. His struggles aren't just obstacles; they are the foundation of his empathy.

I want him to know it's okay if his thoughts differ from those around him. I want to show him his heart is good and his intentions are honorable. I want to give him the grace I didn't have then:

Mistakes are not the end, and failure is a bruise, not a tattoo.

Your Work as a Rescue Mission

I write every book for him. Because when we show up for the versions of ourselves we once tried to hide, we finally start writing things that actually matter to the rest of the world.

Now, I have a question for you. Whether you are writing a book, building a business, or leading a team: Who are you really doing it for?

Don't give me the demographic data. Don't tell me their age range or their income bracket. I want to know about the "kid in the orange" in your own life.

• What does their "neon swimsuit" look like?

  
  

• What is the insecurity you can still see in their eyes if you look at an old photo?

  
  

• What is the one thing they needed to hear back then that you are finally capable of saying now?

  
  

When you stop trying to speak to "everyone," and you start speaking to that one person who needs your protection, your encouragement, and your perspective, your work will shift. It becomes more than just words on a page or a product on a shelf.

It becomes a rescue mission.

So, find your kid. Write for them. The rest of the world will listen in.

Ready to Tell Your Story?

Everyone has a story to tell, but only the courageous will find a way to get it told. If you feel "the kid in the orange" stirring in your heart, but you don't know where to start, you don't have to walk this journey alone.

At Lake View Publishing, my team and I specialize in helping people identify how God is working in their lives and capturing that message on the page. Whether you need content coaching, ghostwriting, or a full publishing team to bring your vision to life, we are here to help you move from "one day" to "done."

[Click here to contact me at DanielStombaugh.com] and let’s talk about your book idea. Let’s turn your story into a kingdom message.

Questions for Reflection

• If you were to look at a photo of yourself from childhood today, what is the one thing you see in that kid’s eyes that the rest of the world might have missed?

• What is the one sentence you wish an adult had said to you when you were at your most "fragile" or "skinny" point in life?

• Is there a "failure" you’ve been carrying like a tattoo (permanent) that you need to start viewing as a bruise (temporary)?

~ Daniel