How many sessions, what's each one about, and in what order? Don't summarize; pretend you're onboarding a new co-facilitator who has to run week 4 without you.

What breaks if someone tries to do the later work before the earlier work? Have you ever rearranged the sequence, and what happened?

After 15 years of real cohorts, which of Bruce Fisher's blocks have held up exactly as written? Which ones have you quietly reshaped, and how? Which ones have you dropped or downplayed because they don't work anymore, and why?

Any specific moment where the room taught you something the book hadn't?

Which week or topic is the wall that stops the most participants? What does stuck look like, and what finally gets them moving again?

What does that shift look and sound like when it happens?

The lines you've said so many times you could say them in your sleep. Give me the greatest hits, as close to verbatim as you can. These become the book's counselor-voice anchors.

Compared to the men in your cohorts, and compared to younger women. Where do their recoveries differ in shape, speed, and sticking points? What do they underestimate about themselves, and what do they overestimate?

When finances come up in your cohorts, what do you actually see: what people don't know, what they're afraid to look at, what blindsides them? What do you wish you could hand them on paper?

Have you used parts language with clients or cohorts? The book plans to use IFS gently ("the part of you that rages at 2 AM is trying to protect you"). Does that sit right with you clinically, and how far would you take it?

Attachment styles, nervous-system regulation, post-traumatic growth, grief models, anything you reach for regularly. What have you tried and abandoned?

For each of these topics, give me your single best story from 15 years of cohorts, the one you'd tell at a workshop: (a) grief that surprised someone, (b) anger, (c) letting go of the ex, (d) the identity rebuild, (e) dating again, or choosing not to. Change every identifying detail as you go.

And the flip side: what would make you not want to hand it to a cohort? Tone, content, anything. You're the one whose name and license are on the cover; this is your veto round.

1. What recovery actually looks like, 2. The grief nobody validates, 3. Your brain on divorce, 4. The identity rebuild, 5. Money honestly, 6. Your body is going through this too, 7. The people audit, 8. Dating eventually or not, 9. Designing the new life, 10. The 90-day reset. Map these against your seminar weeks. Which chapter pairs with which week? Where does the order clash with yours, and which order should win?

When the paperback exists, how would you actually want books to reach your participants: included in enrollment, sold at the first session, bulk-shipped to you, drop-shipped per cohort? What's the least friction for you?

Not finished the seminar, recovered. What do graduates say when they come back years later about what stuck?

This shapes how the book points readers toward the in-person experience.

Not a summary, moments. The night it got real. What month one actually looked like, hour by hour if you can. The first genuinely good day. The turning point you only recognized later. The day you knew you were through the worst. Whatever moments come, in whatever order.

The three to five concrete things that genuinely moved you forward. Practices, people, books, decisions, purchases, anything. Be specific enough that a reader could copy you.

The advice, products, books, and platitudes that were useless or actively made things worse. Name names where you're willing. The reader needs someone to finally say it.

What actually happened financially in your divorce, whatever you're willing to share. What blindsided you, what you'd do differently, and what money moves you'd tell a woman to make in her first 90 days. This feeds the chapter that sells the book, so give it real weight.

What did your body do during and after the divorce, and how did it tangle with perimenopause or menopause? Sleep, appetite, energy, weight, mood, anything. What did no one warn you about? This is the unclonable chapter and it only exists if you tell it.

When did "we" actually become "I" for you, in language, in habits, in how you introduced yourself? Was there a moment you caught yourself thinking as a single woman for the first time?

The first thing you fixed yourself, the first solo trip, the first bill in only your name, whatever yours were.

If you could hand one page to yourself at month one, what would it say? Talk to her directly. This may become the book's opening or closing, so say it the way you'd actually say it.

Read about it, worked with it, lived it? When the book uses parts language, how do you want it to sound in your narrative voice, and is there any way of using it that would make you cringe?

Which of Fisher's concepts mattered most to you personally, in your own recovery, and which ones never quite fit your experience?

Who showed up in ways that surprised you? Who vanished? What did you learn about building a new bench of people in your 50s?

What parts of your story stay off the page, full stop? And are there parts you're willing to include only in softened or generalized form? Nothing you flag here gets drafted, period, and you can add to this list any time.

What does the reader need to hear from you that she could never fully accept from a therapist?

Tell the whole thing, together, interrupting each other as needed. Then tell me: what's the version you want in print, and what details stay just yours?

What does that phrase mean to each of you, separately? Bob first, then Annette, then argue about it if you disagree.

What would younger, unrecovered you have gotten wrong with each other?

Timelines, dating readiness, anger, forgiveness, whether closure exists, anything. Don't smooth it over; disagreements between a counselor and a survivor make great chapters, and the reader trusts a book more when its authors are honest about the gray areas.

The book needs a working definition of done.

When a reader closes this book, what do you want her to feel, and what do you want her to do in the next 24 hours?

(Yes, this is a softball. It's also probably a pull quote.)

Who or what is this book dedicated to? Take a first swing at the actual wording, even if it's rough.

Not marketing copy, just the true promise.

This doesn't need a contract today; it needs one sentence you both nod at. For example: "50/50 on net after costs" or "Bob takes seminar bulk sales, Annette takes direct sales, everything else splits." Say your sentence, confirm you both agree, done. (We can formalize it later; the point is to never have this be awkward in month six.)

Are you comfortable with that? Any reviews or phrasings you'd want excluded, and do you want individual reviewers' names shown or initials only?

Fully comfortable, comfortable with a soft mention, or keep the list out of it? (No mailing happens without your explicit sign-off on the actual email.)

Gut check from each of you: is that a "start it as soon as book one ships," a "let's see how book one does first," or a "not sure it's ever me"? No commitment, just appetite.