Category: Clients Crushin’ It

When he’s not teaching, contributing articles to various publications, or running his consulting and advisory business, Bjarne Tellmann is writing books. Earlier this month, Madison Utley spoke to him about the publication of his second, Law in the Era of AI: Clients, Firms, and the Future of the Legal Industry. 

MU: To start, can you tell us a bit about your background, both professionally and in terms of your writing journey?

BT: I came off of a 30-year legal career, 18 of which I spent as general counsel of several large companies. It was a long journey that took me to many different parts of the world leading big teams. In 2014, I joined a company called Pearson. They were going through huge disruption and that was my first forced education with technology, process optimization, and thinking about running legal departments as a business. That was also the first of several times I’ve led teams through times of disruption and change.

Writing has always been a big part of my job. Lawyers write a lot. They read a lot. And then I wrote my first book back in 2017 called Building An Outstanding Legal Team off the back of the Pearson experience. I just love writing. It’s a great way to think deeply about something. 

MU: In both cases you went on to write a book, what was it about the topic that made you feel you needed a longer form format than the articles you also write?

BT: I’m a very curious person. If I find myself immersed in something that I’m interested in, I want to get to the heart of it. I don’t know a better way to do that than to write something in long form. Once you pick a topic, you unpack and unpack; you do more research than you can actually put in the book, so you have to pare it back again. It’s that process of layering, research, and then paring things back. Constructing an argument, and then backing up all those arguments. It’s like a masterclass in whatever you’re doing. I enjoy that process immensely. 

I also enjoy trying to make complex things feel simple. I want to explain them in a way that someone who doesn’t have background context could say, “Yeah, I understand,” while at the same time, keeping the writing at a level where people who are in that space feel like it contributes something to their work. 

MU: With your global background and being based largely in Europe, how did Stuart get brought onto your Book Two team? 

BT: I had an amazing editor for my first book. She was incredible, but this time around she wasn’t available and so I had to find someone else. Stuart was working as an editor for a friend of mine, Michele DeStefano, and she put me in touch with him. I’m very glad I found Stuart. He’s absolutely brilliant at what he does. Truly, he’s a genius. 

When you’re writing something that is based on the deep understanding of a specific profession or area of knowledge, it’s so helpful to have someone who isn’t familiar with those things to go, “I don’t really understand what that means.” It wouldn’t even occur to you that someone wouldn’t, and then you realize how deeply in the bubble you are. So it was Stuart’s honesty and fresh eyes I so valued. He’d push back and say, “This is redundant. This doesn’t make any sense. This is good; double down on it.” That is so helpful. If I attempted this on my own, it wouldn’t be anywhere close to what it’s like having worked with a knowledgeable third party. 

MU: Artificial intelligence (AI) is obviously a hot topic right now. What do you have to say to people who are terrified of what it might mean for them and their work? 

BT: I’ll talk about it in the terms of my book. Legal work is not really one body of work. You can break it down into a million little chunks. Each chunk is a discrete task. Some tasks require human judgment. Those are usually the tasks at the top end of the pyramid. The 30-year partner who weighs in and has instincts and good judgment in a world of uncertainty. Then there are the tasks at the other end, the things anyone could do. The question is: which of those tasks could be done by technology? Of the ones that could be done by technology, which ones could be done better by technology? The answer is that a large number of those tasks actually can be done better by technology, and that can be a scary notion. 

But I think the interesting and optimistic message is: tasks change. As technology evolves, new tasks emerge. If you think about going to somebody in 1798 when 98% of America was engaged in agriculture and you told them that in 2026, 2% of Americans will be engaged in agriculture but we’ll be producing 10 times as much, they’d be panicking. “What are all those people going to do?” But it turns out there are all these jobs they never could have conceived of–virtually every job we have now, really. So I’m optimistic that as we head into the new era, it’s less about machines taking everything over, and more about machines taking over certain things and freeing us up to do new things. It just takes time for those things to emerge, but I do believe they will come. 

MU: What do you have to say to other professionals who are interested in writing a book but might feel they don’t have the time or the specific expertise necessary? 

BT: I have a friend who has written a couple of books and the advice he gave me before my first was very helpful: start with an outline. Start with your table of contents. Just that one page. And then break the table of contents into subchapters, and then consider what are the sub subchapters?

Before you know it, you have the outline of your book and then it’s paint by numbers. Once you start getting into the flow, you’ll realize you know more about your topic than you thought you did, and you’ll become absorbed in all the intricacies of learning it top to bottom. In other words: think big but start small.

Bonnie Kane has been a psychologist in private practice for nearly twenty years, but only recently has she turned her attention to writing. Earlier this month, Madison spoke to Dr. Kane about the motivation behind her creative endeavor, how it has felt to harness her voice in a new medium, and what she sees for the future. 

What made you want to start a blog? 

The world is changing so much, and people are getting more interested in personal growth and becoming more psychologically aware. I believe that self-awareness makes for a better world, and that the more self-aware we are, the kinder we’re able to be to other people.

That said, there are a lot of buzzwords out there right now like gaslighting or narcissism that I’m not sure people fully grasp the meaning of. I see so many creators misusing those terms on the internet. There’s just so much noise right now, and many people don’t have to have credentials or the background to post online in this space.

I didn’t want to get swept up in that desire for growth being what drove my content. I want more meat in my blogs than is possible in a quippy viral video, but I also want to avoid the information dumps that I see a lot of, too; social media is frenzied right now, and I don’t want to do anything that adds to that feeling of overstimulation. What I do want is to share my knowledge with my community, and this felt like the best way.

Thus far, has the blog scratched the itch of wanting an outlet for your thoughts?

Yes, I do enjoy it. When I was younger I was a much better writer, but then life got in the way. Getting back into writing now — getting to disseminate information I think will help people — feels really good. I wouldn’t say it’s necessarily getting easier with each blog entry in terms of the writing, but I am enjoying it more as I go along. I felt a lot of pressure with the first ones, like I was baring my soul. But once I got my first comment, I realized that if what I have to share helps a single person, that’s enough for me. I think that sense of non-attachment has helped me feel really good about continuing to share.

I also love when someone who reads my blog says, “Oh, I’m going to send this one to my daughters. I think this will really help them.” That kind of organic sharing is the best case outcome, as far as I’m concerned.

How do you decide on topics? And who do you consider to be your primary audience? 

The topics for my blogs sometimes come from trends or themes surfacing in my sessions with clients. And then sometimes the content comes from my own thoughts and experiences instead–things I’ve been through, and what I’ve learned that I think could be useful to others. 

Right now, my readers are largely my clients, and that client pool is primarily women in transition. I end up talking about relationships all day long. Relationships with a sister, with a mother, with a best friend, with a boss. When you’re in a relationship, you can’t see it clearly. That’s what my job is, to have a bird’s-eye view of the situation and share how I, as the outsider, see it. As in my sessions, the goal of these blogs is to contribute to that sense of clarity for people who are looking for that. 

How has working with Stuart helped bring this blog to life? 

From coming up with an idea, to making sure it hasn’t been done a million times already, to figuring out the right depth to go with the topic, it takes quite a while to write and edit each blog post. Stuart helps by breaking that work into stages. He’ll give me homework, like: “Okay, you’ve got this part. Now, go figure that out.” And it keeps me moving forward.

I also think Stu really encourages authenticity. Sometimes I might feel embarrassed like, “Does anyone really care about this thing I have to say?” and then I might be tempted to hold back a bit. Stu will let you linger in a little bit of an uncomfortable space so that you can get to what it is you’re actually trying to say, and that’s because he doesn’t want you to write anything that’s not authentically you. But he’s also there to go, “This is good stuff. This has meaning.” And for both of those things, I’m grateful.

Madison Utley speaks to Vibha Akkaraju following the completion of her memoir, Like Ketchup on Roti. The two discuss the importance of getting out of your own way as a writer, how to sustain motivation over a years-long writing process, and the importance of finding the right people to be part of your support crew.

Q:​ To start, can you give me a high-level overview of your writing history? 

A: ​I did a bachelor’s and a master’s in English literature. I liked writing, and dabbled in journalism for a bit, but I never wrote with any consistency. Right out of school, I had to get a job that could make a living. For me that was technical writing, but I didn’t find any satisfaction in my career. Luckily, I was able to quit my job after our first kid was born.

It was in 2016 that I walked into a prompt-based writing workshop led by Beth Dunnington. I was terrified. All my writing in college had been super structured, but this workshop was the opposite, designed to eliminate fear and hesitancy. You’re given a bunch of prompts. You write, write, write–by hand. It’s timed, like a sprint, and the focus is on moving forward. The editor in you has to take a back seat. I found that approach blew open the world of writing for me. All of the second guessing we can slip into when we’re writing, the perfecting the first sentence before moving onto the second, is counterproductive. Allowing my thoughts to flow instead was transformative. I didn’t know I was writing a book. Beth was the one who saw a theme in my work and asked me about it. I was like, “A book? That’s a four letter word. No!” I held that stance for a couple more years. 

Q: ​When and why did that change? 

A: ​The stories I was drawn to were stories about my family–stories of immigration and shifting identities and our varying responses to our move from India to the US. Eventually I realized maybe Beth was right and there was a book here. But I was completely lost in the woods. I had all these stories but I couldn’t really see the arc. People gave me feedback on individual, small pieces but I needed somebody to look at the whole thing, the big overview. I didn’t have the confidence or, frankly, the expertise to self diagnose the problem or the solution. 

While I was conflicted and doubtful about sharing my story at times, I believed it was important to tell an immigration story that wasn’t necessarily born of major trauma in the classic sense. Our story was not one of migrants who come across a border and really suffer. We were quite blessed actually. Yet still, changing countries at a preadolescent age when you’re very tender and vulnerable was hard. That was something I wanted to write about. I thought about Chimamanda Adichie’s talk about the importance of many stories. She says each kind of story–an immigrant story, a love story, a coming of age story–should be told from many different angles. No one point of view is enough. 

Q: ​It sounds like in order to finish the memoir, you had to do some real soul searching to put words to how you understand your own narrative in your heart and mind? 

 A:​ Yeah, as an immigrant, in the beginning, you’re just in survival mode. I was sent to school here four days after we landed knowing maybe 50 words of English. So the first few years, you’re just trying to learn the spoken language, the body language, the culture, the music, the clothing, the food. Only later do you realize that this first level of assimilation has gotten relatively easy. I moved here in 1982, and 40 plus years later, I’m still grappling with what it means to be an Indian-American parent and what it means for my kids to be Indian-American. How do we navigate this bicultural identity? What do we hold onto? What do we let go of? Questions of identity can be complicated–but writing clarifies, right? And luckily, I found these big questions interesting. Interesting enough to sustain my motivation for many years. 

Q: ​Other than that internal drive to answer the big questions pressing on you, what else sustained your motivation over the course of so many years? 

A: ​I was very fortunate to be surrounded by people who really believed in the project; my husband and my family urged me onward when I started to falter. I also write with a group of talented writers under a gifted teacher named Eanlai Cronin. It’s a weekly dose of inspiration and support. A book is such a long-haul project, I felt I needed to work in community with others. Still, it wasn’t always a smooth road. I would sometimes get overwhelmed and despirited. I realize now looking back that the periods of doubt and low-motivation for this project were directly tied to a lack of direction.  

When I saw Stuart give a talk at CWC here in Redwood City, I connected with his very clear method. At that point, I knew I needed to overlay a method onto the madness of my writing process. I gave him my first 10 pages and I loved what he had to say. He was super smart and understood what I was trying to do. His feedback was thoughtful. He helped keep my focus on only the one step in front of me. That was it. Even now, he’s encouraging me to just submit the manuscript to agents and stop worrying about which publisher may or may not pick it up. This focus on the work helped quiet the overthinking and self doubt and spiraling I could fall into. Having a combination of somebody who really knew a structured path forward, somebody whose judgment I trusted, and who kept me focused on the work was invaluable. Once you get the momentum going, wonderful things happen. 

Q:​ What advice do you have for other writers who are in that first stage of feeling like they do have a book but feeling incredibly far from its finished state, unsure of how to bridge that gap?

A:​ Don’t be afraid of getting help. Whether it’s a book coach or a committed writing companion, an editor, whatever you need. I knew that if I didn’t finish this book, I would regret it for the rest of my life. I needed accountability. I needed a guiding hand. But I was afraid of getting help initially because I wanted to be able to claim this as 100% my own writing. It turns out that worry was completely misplaced. Stuart guided me in coming up with my own answers.  And I realized that everyone needs guidance, no matter what they are pursuing–be it sports, medicine, law, visual arts, whatever. It is wonderful to have somebody who becomes your partner in this incredible journey, somebody who’s done this trip many times before. 

​More than anything, though, have faith in yourself. When other people tell you that you’re a good writer, believe them. And make the investment in yourself that you’d encourage your kids or your best friend to make in themselves, whether that’s dedicated time or professional assistance. I read a book that really helped me, The War of Art by Steven Pressfield. He personifies internal resistance. The author says that when you declare, say, that you’re going to be working from 9 to 12 in the morning, initially people will push back. “What, no, I wanted to get a coffee with you then.” But soon they’ll learn this is sacred time. I actually did that and my loved ones really respected it and would never reach out to me during that window. Everybody falls in line–as soon as you prioritize yourself, they’ll start prioritizing you. It just takes a little discipline in the beginning.

Stuart Horwitz speaks to writer, photographer, and documentary maker, Kim Frank about the years-long process of writing Elephants in the Hourglass: A Journey of Reckoning and Hope Along the Himalaya, published by Pegasus Books earlier this year. Frank shares what kept her motivated throughout, her commitment to authenticity during the sometimes challenging promotion phase of authorship, and why she so ardently believes in the importance of refusing to rush through revision–or any part of the creative process. 

S: How long did you work on this book? From the moment you got the idea to the time you held a copy in your hand. 

K: I went to India for the first time in the spring of 2018, and soon realized I couldn’t possibly tell the whole story from just one trip. It’s so complicated, so culturally imbued. I wasn’t sure what the project was going to be then. I thought it might be a magazine article, or maybe a documentary, perhaps a book. That’s when Anthony Geffen, the founder and CEO of Atlantic Productions, took a look at my stuff. I had photographs and field notes spread out on his kitchen table. He told me, “You need to write the book in order to figure out what the story is–then you can consider a documentary.” 

I was a fiction writer so I didn’t really know how to tackle a full-length nonfiction book. At first, I was in despair. As you know, because that’s when you and I talked. The first time I ever had a call with you, I was about ready to give up. And you stopped me from giving up, so thank you for that. Around the same time Anthony, who had become a mentor to me, said something that I’ve carried with me since: “Kim! Sometimes you have to fight for the story!” And so that’s what I did. I thought about the people I met in India. The people who gave me their trust there, their time, their story, in the hopes that I would amplify their voices and make them feel seen in a way they haven’t before now. And then there’s the people who invested on the home front–my husband, my children, my parents–all those who gave me the time and space to write. It was all of them who helped me not give up over the years of working on this project. I felt this incredible responsibility to finish because I wasn’t just by myself anymore. Six years later, in January 2025, I held a copy of the book in my hands for the first time. 

S: Let’s talk about promotion. How do you make it authentic, and how do you keep yourself fresh when you’re answering the same questions over and over?

K: The more time I’ve spent working on this project in India and beyond, I’ve come to really believe there’s a force bigger than me at play. I’m a vessel. I’m just doing my part: the storytelling, the authenticity. As long as I stay connected to the elephants’ energy, to the thing that’s bigger than me, all will be smooth. The way will open, whatever that’s meant to be. The challenge is the more you have to promote your work and promote yourself, there’s this real danger of the ego becoming bigger. “Oh, I didn’t get invited to speak at that event. What’s that about?” “Oh, that person’s book is getting more attention than mine.” This growing ego feeling is very different from the connected channel I had been able to tap into when I’m focused on the creative piece of it. 

But I do love talking to people who get it. I really love doing interviews. I especially love when people have an open mind and heart that can talk about the more ethereal bits involved in the creative process. I really have enjoyed talking to people like you that I care about, that have helped me along the way. Second to that, I like doing talks because I feel like I’m able to connect with people and I’m able to bring the story to life through myself. There are parts of promotion that I am actually having fun doing. 

S: I feel as if your commitment and perseverance is a talent. Without that personality trait, as a writer, you’re cooked, really. You’ve got to be somebody who can say, “This is what I’m doing; I don’t know whether it’s going to be a success or not. I don’t know how many years it’s going to take. I don’t know whether you agree with me or not…but this is what I’m doing.” 

K: I’d love to speak to that from a craft perspective. I often hear writers say, “I’m a one-and-done. I wrote that draft to the end and it’s good enough.” For me, and what I want to teach others, the art is in the revision. Revision is where you meet the creative gods. You have to get the whole thing on paper first, and then the work begins. Then, the art begins. It’s like a sculpture. You have this great big mass and you have a vision for what you want that hunk to look like and through revision, revision, revision, all the shaping, all the detail comes out. So if you’re not in love with the process, you won’t finish the work the way it needs to be finished. If you’re in a hurry to get to the end, the end is going to feel really hollow. 

People say to me, “You must be so excited to have your book in your hands!” And yeah, I’m thrilled to be holding a physical book from a traditional publisher, that I had an agent for, all those things. But if I rushed through writing the book in the hurry to get an agent or to get it published, I would have missed out on the growth of myself as a creative human. People on the outside would ask me, “Isn’t it good enough now? Why do you have to keep writing it?” Because it wasn’t done. It’s a process. It has to nourish you. It can be frustrating as hell sometimes, but the process also has to nourish you or else what are we doing? 

S: It is frustrating and there are so many unknowns, the biggest being: is it going to reach this hard to define level of success we carry somewhere in our minds? 

K: And you can’t control that. You just have to get out of your own way. If we grip too hard to something we want, sometimes we block the path for what’s possible. Right now with promotion, I know I need to be doing all these things. I need to be promoting the hell out of the book. People have to be doing the Amazon reviews and all the things, but there’s also part of me that thinks it will seek its own level somehow. I want to be more focused on: Who am I every day? I can’t become preoccupied with how successful the book is or isn’t… In my opinion, if the book has made a difference in someone’s life or if it inspired them in some meaningful way, that’s a win to me. 

It’s very easy to get out of balance. I’ve done a lot of work to deepen my practice: my yoga practice, my mantras, my spiritual connection, and build the tools necessary to take it on the road, so to speak. When I’m at home, it’s easy to have that balance. But when I’m out traveling things begin to feel overwhelming. So I’m recognizing that exercise–for me, yoga and what yoga means as far as its spiritual practice–is as important as hygiene, and I need to constantly prioritize it as such. You never question, no matter where you are, if you’re still going to bathe and brush your teeth. I haven’t yet mastered incorporating those elements into my daily hygiene to where I prioritize it on the road as well as I can prioritize it when I’m at home, but that’s the goal.