“Everyone has a book in them,” goes the adage.

“Yet for most that’s where it should stay,” add the literary wags, the late Christopher Hitchens among them.

Fair comment? Absolutely not. Writing’s not a talent. It’s a craft. It can be taught and learnt, like embroidery or carpentry. And those literary types who make such remarks are revealing their snobbery (as well as their insecurities) by dissing those with literary ambitions of their own.

In fact, good writing’s an excellent way of overcoming the barriers many of us face from those judgemental gatekeepers to our dreams. And no matter what the goal, there’s going to be a gatekeeper to persuade, which is where our fears can kick in: of being judged unworthy, of being found out as an imposter, of simply not being good enough (that’s a tricolon, by the way – see below).

As a state-educated Essex boy, that’s exactly how I felt when trying to break into journalism, or later banking, or later still authoring books. My provincialism sapped my confidence when competing with the expensively educated and over-confident, all of whom possessed the right connections and smooth chat.

I didn’t stand a chance, I thought, until I realised I could hide my insecurities behind the written word. Get that right and I’d at least get through the door. Make it brilliant, and maybe they’d see beyond my accent and manners.

Forget about style

So, how do we get over our doubts and write that brilliant book? Nearly always, our fears with respect to writing circulate around style. Leaden prose, strangulated syntax, incorrect grammar: all weighing on the mind of the insecure writer. Yet style is the last element in a process involving a series of achievable and self-checking steps, each reinforcing the previous one while opening up the next. Over time (and with effort), these steps can result in a brilliant, beautiful, best-selling book (that’s alliteration by the way – see below).

As for the steps, there are four biggies: angle, content, structure and (finally) style. First, decide your angle – not just the theme but the opinion you’re trying to communicate. Then research the content required to prove your point before deciding what’s in and what’s out. Next, structure the order of the information and get it on the page. And then – and only then – worry about style.

Of course, there’s more to it than that. So here are my ten tips for budding book writers (note: this is for non-fiction – though the same process can work for fiction, with a few additions).

1. When deciding the angle, focus on the audience. Who do you want to read your book? Remember, any book aimed at showing off your skills and knowledge is unlikely to resonate – while those focused on your target readers’ fears and desires most certainly will.

2. Strong structuring is critical, so develop a broad table of contents with ten chapters of around 5,000 words. Better still, think of four key parts that can be divided into three chapters of around 4,000 words each.

3. Then laser focus on researching the content for each chapter. This may change the structure: fine – keep revising as you go. Could it even change the angle? Absolutely. Ignoring information that undermines your argument could be fatal.

4. Now start writing, though not at the beginning. Your structuring exercise will reveal a range of elements to convey, so start with the easiest. What’s your comfort zone? Make that your first chapter.

5. Divide the chapter into four or five blocks (each 1,000-1,500 words) and write the easiest blocks first. This building-block approach gets the job done and builds confidence as you go.

6. Write the blocks separately and, once finished, think about their order – perhaps by printing a block per page and shuffling the order until satisfied they run smoothly.

7. Now write the opening paragraph. Ignore school essay introductions, this should be an “inverted pyramid” – encapsulating the angle and essence of the chapter below (hence why best written last).

8. Forget about a conclusion. Don’t summarise the information already relayed – that’s weak. Chapters that finish after the last point is made are fine, though if you feel the need to round it off, segue to what’s coming next.

9. Write all the chapters this way. Once done, you have a “dirty” first draft. Congratulations. Time to rewrite the whole thing, now focusing on style. Sentences should be short. Try inverting one sentence per paragraph (one sentence per paragraph should be inverted). And start the last sentence of alternate paragraphs with “and” – all cheap tricks, but effective.

10. Other tricks – such as tricolons (rule of three), epizeuxis (repeat, repeat, repeat for emphasis), epistrophe (ending sequential phrases with the same word), as well as segues that link sections and alliteration within passages to create rhythm – are also worth exploring. But go easy. In non-fiction, your inner James Joyce needs to stay under control.

Of course, there’s plenty more where these came from in my book – all helping writers develop fearless content, whether it’s a book or something shorter. Immortality awaits.

Former magazine editor and PR professional, Robert Kelsey is the author of a series of self-help books. His latest book, Writing Well for Work and Pleasure, €18, John Wilkes Publishing, is out now.