Table of Contents

• Let’s Talk Strategy (Not Just Style)
• Keep It Simple So It Sticks
• Build on What They Already Know
• Get the Reader in the Game
• Say It Again—But Later
• Pair Text With Visuals
• Teach Them to See Their Thinking
• Let Them Teach to Lock It In
• Make It Emotional, Not Just Logical
• Create Practice Opportunities
• Let Them Feel Progress
• If This Resonates, Keep Going
• Further Reading
• Frequently Asked Questions

Every writer remembers the moment they read something that changed the way they saw the world. Maybe it was a book that made a difficult concept suddenly click, or a piece of advice that shifted their entire approach to storytelling. The best writing doesn’t just inform—it transforms. But writing something that teaches is its own skill, one that goes beyond knowing the material.

If we want to teach other authors how to level up their craft, we’ve got to go deeper than just tossing around tips and tricks. Writing isn’t just about mechanics, and learning isn’t just about exposure. The human brain doesn’t work like a sponge, soaking up whatever information it encounters. It has processes, patterns, and limitations that dictate how knowledge is received, stored, and applied. If we don’t take those into account, we risk writing books that might feel informative but fail to create real, lasting change.

That’s where cognitive science comes in. When we understand how people learn, we can shape our teaching in a way that sticks. This isn’t about sounding smart—it’s about being effective. It’s about delivering ideas in a way that readers not only understand but can internalize and apply to their own work. We don’t want readers who finish our books and think, “That was interesting.” We want them to walk away changed, equipped with tools they can use, and confident in their ability to improve.

A well-written book on writing doesn’t just give advice. It rewires the way its readers think. And that’s exactly what we’re going to break down here.

Let’s Talk Strategy (Not Just Style)

Before we dive into the ten principles, let’s set the stage with one important point: even if you’re just learning how to write yourself, this page is still for you. Teaching doesn’t have to mean standing at a podium. Sometimes, it means writing in a way that shares what you’ve learned so far—whether in a book, a blog post, a course, or even a single chapter. The moment you decide to help others through your writing, you’re already stepping into a teaching role.

Added Benifit: Teaching what you just learned will actually help you to have a better understanding of the content as well.

And if the term “cognitive science” feels unfamiliar, don’t worry—it’s not as intimidating as it sounds. Cognitive science is simply the study of how people think, learn, remember, and solve problems. It pulls from psychology, neuroscience, and education research to explain what makes learning stick. When we apply these ideas to writing, we stop guessing what might work and start building content that meets readers where they are. That’s what this page is all about.

This isn’t some theory-heavy, academic breakdown. There’s enough of that out there already—overcomplicated, jargon-filled explanations that don’t connect with the people who actually need them. That’s not how I teach, and I doubt it’s how you want to learn. I believe in teaching like we’re sitting across from each other in a coffee shop, having a real conversation about how to take writing to the next level. No fluff. No filler. Just useful insights that you can take and apply immediately.

Does that responate with you? I hope it does.

What you’ll find here is a breakdown of writing techniques through the lens of cognitive science—real, research-backed methods that explain not just what works in writing, but why it works. This is about teaching in a way that makes sense to the brain, making learning feel natural and seamless. I’ve laid it out in ten sections, each connected to a key principle of how we absorb, retain, and use information. If you understand how people learn, you can teach in a way that truly sticks.

Let’s get into it.

1. Keep It Simple So It Sticks

Using Cognitive Load Theory

Your reader can’t process ten things at once. If you overload them, you lose them. Period. The brain works best when information is delivered in small, manageable pieces. When teaching, each concept should be broken down into its simplest form before layering on complexity. If you stack multiple lessons into one explanation, you risk overwhelming your readers before they can fully absorb anything. Walking them through clear, step-by-step examples helps them process information more effectively. When explaining a technique like “show, don’t tell,” comparing weak and strong versions side-by-side provides a visual and logical connection that makes the lesson easy to grasp.

Cognitive Load Theory explains that our working memory—the mental space we use to process new information—is limited. When too much is introduced too quickly, the brain short-circuits, and retention drops. As someone who uses books to teach, it’s not just about delivering the right information, it’s about delivering it in the right order and amount. Each section of your book should feel like a single step forward, not a leap across a canyon. Keeping things simple isn’t dumbing them down—it’s creating space for depth to grow over time.

2. Build on What They Already Know

Using Schema Theory

The brain connects new knowledge to existing knowledge, which means if a concept has no familiar anchor, it’s harder to retain. If we relate ideas to something a reader already understands, the learning process becomes seamless. A joke, for example, follows a structured setup, escalation, and punchline—just like a well-paced scene. By introducing new material through familiar structures, we create mental anchors that allow the brain to categorize and retain new insights with greater ease.

Schema Theory teaches us that knowledge is stored in mental frameworks, or “schemas,” that help us interpret and make sense of new information. As someone using books to teach, it’s helpful to recognize that each reader brings different experiences and background knowledge to the table. The more we link our teaching to universal experiences or familiar concepts, the easier it becomes for readers to plug new lessons into their existing understanding. That’s what makes learning feel fluid rather than forced.

3. Get the Reader in the Game

Using Constructivist Learning

Reading alone isn’t enough. Application is what cements understanding. The best way to help someone internalize a lesson is to get them to use it immediately. If you want to introduce character development, for example, create space in your book for an exercise that asks readers to build a flawed character and write a scene where that flaw creates tension. This kind of interaction turns the lesson into a living thing—one they can see and shape in real time.

Constructivist learning is the idea that we don’t absorb knowledge passively—we build it actively. That means your readers need chances to interact with the material, not just observe it. Books that teach through this lens include writing prompts, reflection spaces, and hands-on challenges. You’re not just delivering information—you’re inviting your reader to construct their own learning experience, guided by the steps you give them. That active process is where real growth happens.

4. Say It Again—But Later

Using Spaced Repetition

The human brain isn’t built to retain everything it encounters the first time. We need reminders—but not all at once. Revisiting key concepts throughout your book helps reinforce understanding and make those ideas stick long-term. If you introduce a theme early on, come back to it later in a different context. Use it again in the discussion about character arcs or scene construction. These callbacks help readers solidify their understanding without feeling like they’re being lectured.

Spaced Repetition is grounded in the way memory actually works. When we revisit ideas at intervals, especially in new contexts, our brains see the concept as more important and worth remembering. As someone who teaches through writing, this means building intentional echoes of your key messages. This can also help when you are building off of what they know, which we talked about earlier. You are using both to anchor in the information with what they already know. (See what I did there?) Whether it’s a concept about structure or emotional tone, looping it back naturally gives readers time to absorb, forget just enough, and then re-learn with stronger retention.

5. Pair Text With Visuals

Using Dual Coding Theory

The brain processes words and images through separate channels, which means using both can double your chances of getting the message across. When an idea feels abstract or complex, adding a visual component gives your reader a second path to understanding. That’s why story arcs, character timelines, or annotated examples often work better than lengthy descriptions. These visuals help translate the lesson into something the brain can latch onto.

Dual Coding Theory suggests that when information is presented in both verbal and visual formats, it creates two memory traces instead of one. This increases the likelihood that the concept will be remembered and understood. Did you by chance see the image that I created for this webpage? If you didn’t scoll back up and take a look at it. You will notice that the image reinforces the topics that are covered in the text both her and in the background. For writers using books as a teaching tool, that could mean incorporating sketches, diagrams, or marked-up pages that visually show the lesson you’re describing. It doesn’t have to be fancy—just clear. The goal is to support the reader’s thinking with another layer of connection.

6. Teach Them to See Their Thinking

Using Metacognition

Readers need to understand how they think, not just what to do. Encouraging your audience to reflect on their process helps them self-correct, evolve, and grow well beyond your book. Simple tools like checklists, chapter-end questions, or journaling prompts give readers a way to track their own patterns—what’s working, what isn’t, and where they’re getting stuck. Reflection transforms a temporary skill into long-term awareness.

Metacognition is, quite literally, thinking about thinking. It’s a cognitive skill that helps learners take ownership of their development by becoming aware of how they learn. When you teach through a book, layering in moments of self-reflection doesn’t just deepen comprehension—it gives the reader the confidence and ability to adjust their approach without relying on outside feedback. You’re not just giving them knowledge. You’re teaching them how to become lifelong learners.

7. Let Them Teach to Lock It In

Using the Protégé Effect

The best way to learn something is to try explaining it to someone else. If a reader can reword a concept, critique an example, or describe what they just learned in their own terms, that shows deep understanding. Ask your readers to reflect or even teach a lesson back to themselves—through journaling, peer feedback, or by applying it to a real-life example. That level of engagement turns knowledge into expertise.

The Protégé Effect refers to the psychological boost we get when we prepare to teach someone else. Our brain goes deeper into the material because we expect to explain it. If the reader knows that they will be expected to reflect on the lesson at the end of the chapter, they will start focusing on what they are going to say or write. For those of us writing books as teaching tools, inviting the reader to teach back—even hypothetically—triggers this deeper processing. It makes the lessons stick, while also building the reader’s confidence that they can pass the skill forward.

8. Make It Emotional, Not Just Logical

Using Affective Learning

People remember what they feel. That’s why emotion is such a powerful tool when you’re trying to teach through a book. It’s one thing to list five mistakes writers make—it’s another to share a personal story where you made one of them and explain how it set you back, what it taught you, and how you moved forward. These moments of honesty help your reader feel connected and invested, which makes the lesson unforgettable.

Affective Learning focuses on the emotional side of understanding. It acknowledges that people are more likely to engage with—and act on—ideas that move them. When your book makes someone feel encouraged, challenged, or validated, those emotions anchor the knowledge in place. You’re not just helping someone become a better writer or thinker; you’re helping them believe they can become one. That belief fuels action.

9. Create Practice Opportunities

Using Deliberate Practice

Skill doesn’t grow by accident. It grows through intentional, focused effort. If you’re using your book to help people improve, repetition with purpose is your best tool. Instead of telling someone to revise their writing, guide them through it—once to refine voice, again to control pacing, and then again to sharpen imagery. That type of focused repetition builds real skill.

As you have just seen Deliberate Practice is the process of breaking down a skill into its core parts, practicing those parts individually, and receiving immediate feedback or self-reflection. It’s not about doing more—it’s about doing better. When teaching through a book, each chapter can serve as a mini practice zone where your reader gets to build specific strengths. By the end, they’ve not only learned—they’ve trained.

10. Let Them Feel Progress

Using Self-Determination Theory

Motivation grows when people feel like they’re getting somewhere. If your book gives readers a way to track their improvement—through milestones, small wins, or the buildup to a final product—they’re far more likely to stay engaged. When people can see what they’ve learned, they gain the confidence to keep going.

Self-Determination Theory emphasizes the importance of autonomy, mastery, and purpose. Readers are more likely to stick with your book—and remember what they’ve learned—if they feel like they’re making real progress on their own terms. Designing your content so that each lesson builds toward a tangible goal reinforces their sense of capability. That sense of momentum is one of the most powerful tools you can offer as someone who teaches through books.

If This Resonates, Keep Going

If this page gave you clarity, imagine what your book could give your readers. Every section you just read is more than theory—it’s a framework. A way to help others not just learn, but grow through what you teach. So now, turn this understanding into something tangible. Build your book, one principle at a time. Let it reflect the way you wish someone had taught you when you were starting out.

And if you’re already thinking about your next step—whether that’s outlining, building exercises, or designing a structure that truly teaches—I’m here to help you map it out.

Further Reading

If this page sparked something in you, here are a few books and articles that can deepen your understanding of both teaching and learning through writing:

• Make It Stick by Peter C. Brown — A powerful book on how real learning happens
• The Writer’s Journey by Christopher Vogler — Great for narrative structure

Frequently Asked Questions

Q: Do I need to be a teacher to use this framework?
A: Not at all. If you’re writing to share knowledge, whether in a book, blog, or even social post, you’re already teaching.

Q: What if I’ve never heard of cognitive science before?
A: No problem—this guide was written with beginners in mind. You’ll get the core concepts in plain language.

Q: Can this help me write nonfiction books outside of writing instruction?
A: Absolutely. These principles apply to any book designed to teach—from parenting guides to how-to manuals and personal development.

Q: Is there a printable version or worksheet for this?
A: Not yet, but one is in development. Subscribe to my site updates or check back soon.

Final Thought

This isn’t about making writing harder. It’s about making teaching more effective. If we understand how the brain learns, we can guide writers toward real, lasting growth—not just “aha!” moments that fade by morning.

Teach like someone’s future depends on it—because it might. And when you do, don’t just show them what you know. Show them how to grow. One insight at a time.

About the Author