A Good Reputation

People come to me when they want a brand, messaging, and content marketing strategy that connects with customers and decision-makers on a deeper level. Through storytelling-led marketing principles, I help you nail your positioning, get clear and confident in your messaging, and create a compelling brand narrative that informs all of your content. 

The result is a brand that resonates, messaging that attracts inbound opportunities, and a sustainable content engine that leads to a shorter sales cycle with a warm and aligned audience.

Brand Storyteller & Content Strategist

New Narratives Club

Every year, I get a handful of intentional business owners together in person in a magical location to workshop our businesses, create meaningful connections, and build stuff worth building.

Wanna join? Next one is May 13-16 in Mexico City.

Co-Founder & Host

Ridwell

Created storytelling-led content on Ridwell’s various social media channels that doubled engagement, grew accounts by 300-1,000 new followers a month, drove signups and grew the brand’s presence across markets.

Social Media Marketing Manager

Off the Grid

Ran the marketing department of an innovative and established event startup with a storytelling-led content approach. Biggest wins included: 
 
• Growing newsletter subscriber base by 10K and open rates to 36% from 6% in under 6 months.
• Leading editorial strategy and execution for weekly B2C & B2B blogs that increased clickthrough, engagement & leads by 25% in under 6 months. 
• Growing social media following on IG, FB & TikTok by over 10K in under 6 months and average engagement by 35% year over year.
• Recruiting and managing a team of talented content creation contractors. 
• Leading influencer marketing campaigns that drew over 1M impressions. 
• Launching PR, Partnership, Advertising & Social Media campaigns that doubled company’s revenue year-over-year for community markets and drew an estimated 10,000 people the grand reopening of Off the Grid’s marquee weekly Friday night destination market at Fort Mason Center in 2022.

Head of Marketing & Editorial Content

Taavi

Founded a content startup for mothers that got acquired as the marketing arm of a tech-enabled platform connecting new mothers with community and professional support. In a nutshell:

TAAVI (Takes a Village) is a micro-community platform that connects expectant and new parents in small, intimate chat groups based on lifestyle and location. TAAVI helps families find meaningful friendships, build supportive communities, and get instant access to critical services.

Co-Founder, Head of Marketing & Content

Renee Lynn Frojo

After having a baby, I knew it was time to build my own freelance business. Here's what I did for a handful of amazing companies over the course of four years:

• Researched, wrote and edited strategic SEO-rich content for startups looking to grow brand awareness and engage with new audiences. Clients included Amy's Organic, Bi-Rite Market, Tonal, Ziraffe Store, and Kettle & Fire. 
• Managed a team of freelance and contract writers on behalf of clients. Heavily edited some pretty bad content. 
• Researched and reported stories on a variety of topics within the hospitality, retail and nonprofit industries. Stories appeared in the San Francisco Chronicle, San Francisco Business Times, Marin Magazine, SF Weekly, Zagat and the SF Bay Guardian.
• Founded a successful a food blog—www.laurelstreetkitchen.com—and gained a 10K following on IG, which quickly became tiring and lame.

Freelance Content Strategist & Creator

Sun Basket

As a founding team member, I helped build Sunbasket’s website, brand and editorial content. Responsibilities included:

• Building and leading our editorial content strategy across channels. 
• Developing, researching and writing storytelling and  SEO-rich content. 
• Creating and maintaining company’s editorial calendar.
• Managing a team of in-house and remote writers.

Head of Content & Media Relations

San Francisco Business Times

My beats: Restaurants, retail, hospitality, philanthropy and startups. As one does in a newspaper job, I developed original story ideas, wrote breaking news and shot accompanying photographs for daily articles. 
Biggest accomplishment: I helped grow the paper's audience and credibility in the restaurant and hospitality space. I also helped them figure out the social media marketing thing.

Startup & Small Business Reporter

Freelance

I took a gap year to travel the world and did some reporting while I was at it! Published articles on travel and culture in Bay Nature Magazine, BBC Wildlife Magazine, Christian Science Monitor, Global Post, San Francisco Business Times and SF Bay Guardian.

Freelance Writer, Editor & Photographer

Atlantic Information Services

Reported on regulatory, business and legal issues concerning the healthcare industry. Got plenty of insight into the disfunction on Capitol Hill.

Editor

The curious content marketer who cares ✨ Partnering with purpose-led small businesses, startups, and entrepreneurs to connect through storytelling and collaboration.

My ability to spot a good story is what landed me my first job in journalism. But it was my decade of profiling startups, small businesses, nonprofits and some of San Francisco’s most influential people that taught me how to tell one. 

A move into marketing and another decade dabbling in the creator economy—first with a food blog, then a motherhood magazine—taught me how to use those stories to build communities through content and collaborations.  

Now, my mission is to help purpose-driven people and brands build loyal audiences who don't just want what you offer, but love what you stand for.  

Founders and business owners come to me when they need a strategic storyteller and networked creator. 

The results?

1. A clear brand narrative.
2. A simple, sustainable plan and process for consistently sharing that narrative through content across all channels. 
3. A bank of differentiated ideas pulled from stories and experiences to use everywhere. 
4. A shorter sales cycle. 
5. A community of collaborators.
6. An overall less time-consuming (and more enjoyable) way to do content marketing. 

In short: I help you figure out what you need to say and where you need to say it to develop your brand, find a community of collaborators, and connect with the right people.

Because with so much noise and competition, we all need a reason to care—we need to feel a connection. 

If you can do that, not only will you stand out, you will find exactly where you fit in. 

Ready to get started?

Renee Lynn Frojo ✨

My seven-year-old learned two opposing views of Thanksgiving at school yesterday, and it gives me hope for the future.

Some people, she told me, view Thanksgiving as an opportunity to practice gratitude and celebrate togetherness.

Other people observe it as a day of mourning for the land that was stolen. They see it as a necessary day to protest ongoing oppression. 

I told her that when I was in second grade, I was cutting out paper turkeys on construction paper. 

Then I asked her how she sees Thanksgiving. 

“I guess both can be right,” she said. “It’s just good to understand all perspectives.”

Why can’t adults be this civilized?

They tell you to tell your story. I show you how. 🧡 Brand storytelling & content strategy for creators, founders, solos & startup teams. Ask about my Short-Form Storytelling Workshop for your community or organization.

I’m certain I’ll lose a few of you over this, but I have a confession. About once a year, around this time or in the spring, I consult my psychic. 

Her name is Robyn, and I’ve been talking to her for over a decade. 

Robyn has told me things I can’t explain. She predicted with spectacular accuracy the end of my marriage, the exact day my second child would be born, the place and time I’d buy my first house, and the personality and profession of my current partner. She even named my mom’s weird left foot issue before my mom mentioned it to me.  

And yes, these insights make me feel like I have an ounce of control over what’s coming. But that’s not why I call her.

The times I feel compelled to talk to Robyn are when I’m standing at a crossroads—some turning point in my life or career where I need to make a big decision. One where I already feel the answer in my gut and have accepted the consequences, but am afraid to make the wrong choice.

What I’m really looking for, I now realize, isn’t a prediction. 
It’s permission.

It’s confidence that the answer I want is the one I’ve already decided is best with the information I have.

The funny thing is that when Robyn affirms what I already believe, I go for it without a doubt. And when she doesn’t, I feel even more sure that my instinct is right anyway, despite what she sees in her crystal ball.

I mention this because I think we’re all just looking for permission when we seek advice from anyone. 

Whether it’s a coach, a therapist, a peer, a trusted partner, or successful people who’ve accomplished the things we’re striving for, we’re looking for the confidence to make our move. Or validation that our bet will pay off because it’s paid off for someone else. 

But the truth is that no one can predict the outcome of your choices for you. No one can give you advice that will work for you in the same way it worked for them. 

What we can do is ask questions of each other (and ourselves) that help us figure out what we really want and what consequences we're willing to put up with.

It’s why I’ve built spaces like my retreat and my storytelling community. It’s why I ask more questions than give advice in my newsletter. 

The goal is to give you room to listen to yourself. To pause and reflect. To get out of your head so you can feel confident shaping the story.

So that even if you consult a psychic—or anyone—you’re not waiting for their blessing because you’re already grounded in your own.

One idea that’s changed my life is the belief that everything that happens—including the hardships and tragedies—does not just “happen for a reason.” 

Stuff happens. Then, you can choose to give it a reason. 

You can make meaning out of the mess. You can understand how the things that happened have shaped you or your environment, for better or for worse.

Through this lens, everything that happens to you in life is either a good lesson or a good story. (And the best ones are usually both.)

While it's not always easy to make meaning when you're working your way through the mess, looking for the lesson or the story can give you:

- A greater sense of agency, 
- A deeper understanding of other people, and
- Control over the narrative the world has of you and you have of yourself.

We’ll never be able to control what happens to us, and sometimes it's just random and unfortunate. But we can always choose how the story gets told.

If you hate social media and see it as a necessary evil to getting visibility for your business or big idea, maybe you should stop focusing so much on doing what works and putting yourself out there in a way that works for you.

What kind of content do you like to engage with and create, even if it doesn’t “perform.” What would you want to read or see that doesn’t exist? Do that.

We've got to be the change we want to see, right?

They tell you to tell your story. I show you how. 🧡 Brand storytelling & content strategy for creatives, solopreneurs & startup teams. Ask me about my Short-Form Storytelling Workshop for your community or organization.

In case you need to hear it today: You can build a fully inbound business without relying on social media. 

I have. And it’s what saves me from feeling like I’m at the mercy of every algorithm change or posting when I’d rather be offline doing the deeper work or engaging with humans in the real world.

While it's true that showing up on social keeps you visible and helps you stay connected with your online community, I've found that investing my time in other activities pays off even more for getting better quality inbound leads. 

They include:
-Podcast appearances where I can just be myself
-Newsletters where I can speak directly to an audience that takes immediate action
-Blogs and other discovery platforms where I repurpose my work
-Guest teaching in communities that house my ideal audience
-Speaking at local live events to build authority
-In-person networking that creates immediate trust
-Referral partners who cross-promote
-Keeping up with past clients who already know, like, and trust me

Some of these bring leads in a day, while some take seasons. But all of them compound.

Social media can be a great discovery platform, but it’s just one place to tell your story. And it's not worth spending all your time here.

So if you need permission to post a couple of times per week while you focus on other high-impact marketing things, here you go. Permission granted. 

Where else can you tell your story that I missed?

My kid with a bad cold, miserable and sobbing because she can't sleep: "Can you give me anything to make it better?"

Me: "Unfortunately, there is no cure for the common cold."

Her: "So they're making robots to replace us, but they haven't invented anything that could solve my actual problems?"

Me: "Sam Altman works in mysterious ways."

Most of us don’t quit because the work is hard. We quit because the work feels empty.

When I left journalism to start my first online content business, I figured the best way to make it sustainable was to build it around something I loved.

So, I started a food blog to marry my passion for storytelling with my passion for cooking.

It took off faster than I expected. Within a few months, I built a large online following, was closing brand deals, and fielding plenty of freelance opportunities to keep me very busy. 

Not only was the work steady, but the hours were flexible and the food was great (if I do say so myself). 

On paper, it looked like every solo entrepreneur’s dream.

But before I even hit year two, I started to feel worn out.

It wasn’t that the hours were long. (The most I put in was 30 a week.) Or that I didn’t enjoy it. (I was getting paid to make food and take pretty pictures of it.)

It was that I didn’t care enough about why I was doing it or why any of it mattered to keep me motivated.

I felt like I wasn’t solving any real problems in the world or making an impact on anyone’s life. It felt kind of…empty.

By building something around my passion, instead of a deep sense of purpose, the work got harder and the hours felt longer.

Now, three years into my fourth go at building a sustainable business, I finally understand that the meaning you give your work plays an oversized role in determining its difficulty. 

And the more you care about the problem you’re solving—and believe in the impact of your solution—the more clarity, creative fuel, and resilience you have to keep going when things get hard.

It’s why a 12-hour day working toward something that deeply matters will energize you, but a 2-hour task on something that feels meaningless will drain you.

For me, that meaning is anchored in helping people connect with themselves so that their ideal audience can connect with their work.

It’s why I built  New Narratives Club as a space to step back from your daily routine, reflect on what truly matters, and get clear on the next chapter you want to write—both personally and professionally. 

(Because, as hard as we try, we can’t untangle the two.)

And speaking this stuff out loud with a group of people who get it helps you see what you’re missing. 

So if you’re feeling drained, stuck, or uninspired by your work, ask yourself: Do I actually believe in what I’m building? 

If not, the problem might not be the work. It might be the meaning you’ve attached to it. 

And my purpose is to help you find it.

I guess it can take a lifetime to stop being afraid of being seen. 

My newsletter got a ton of reponses yesterday (for which I’m so grateful), but none could top this one from my mom.

Each of us is on our own journey, but it sure helps to have a loving parent in your corner.

Creating content for social media means experiencing every possible emotion about the same post.

Writing it: Genius.
Posting it: Meh.
5 minutes later: Why did I do this?
First comment: Oh thank god.
Analytics: What even is engagement?
24 hours later: We go again.

And now, the moment my 14K followers have all been waiting for....

Applications for the New Narratives 2026 Retreat for entrepreneurs building intentional businesses are officially open!

If you’re in the very special 1% of this 14K who actually gets to see this today, then it must be a sign that you need to come this year.

Get the details over at New Narratives Club, and check the comments for proof from past attendees that this event is both good for your soul and your business.

My 7-year-old just admitted that she doesn’t actually like Christmas very much. 

The day itself is disappointing, she said. There’s just too much buildup and pressure on one day to be special. 

But what she does love are all the rituals leading up to Christmas, like decorating the tree, hunting for the perfect gifts, wrapping presents, and counting down the days on her advent calendar. 

“That’s interesting,” I said after she made her proclamation this morning. “Where’d you hear that?”

“I didn’t hear it anywhere,” she responded. “I just feel that way.”

What she doesn’t realize is that I said those exact words last year after we all had a depressing and disenchanted Christmas Day. 

I tried to make the girls feel better by saying it’s not about Christmas, it’s about all the fun we had preparing and participating in a holiday that, for our family, is about giving and being present together.

So she heard those words, internalized my perspective, and this year made it her own—all without even realizing it.

It made me think about all the opinions, experiences, and perspectives that we all internalize throughout our lives. The stories that other people tell us that become part of our own.

We carry these stories into adulthood, where they shape our worldview and approach to relationships, work, and ourselves. 

Sometimes these stories serve us. But sometimes they don’t.

And the only way to really understand what stories you’re telling yourself that are yours (and still serve you) or someone else’s is to unpack them alongside people you trust and respect.

Examining the stories we tell ourselves from a new lens is just one of the things we do at our New Narratives Club retreats. But it might just be the most transformative. 

If you’re curious about joining the retreat and want a taste of what to expect, we’re hosting a sort of “open house” next week with past and returning attendees. It's for any entrepreneur who wants to make sure the script you're writing for the next chapter of your business is entirely your own. 

Come to listen, ask questions, and—if you’re ready to dive right in—sign up for a hot seat where you’ll have the group’s attention and brilliant minds on your most pressing question or current struggle in business. (I'll drop the signup in the comments.)

And, if you're feeling brave, share a story you've been telling yourself that you're starting to question as your own.

As for my daughter's thoughts on Christmas? Well, all I can do is teach her to keep questioning and exploring how she really feels.

I bet you don't know what the actual definition of trust is. And until recently, I didn't either.

Apparently, there are more definitions and research papers on trust than on any other sociological topic—even more than love. But ultimately, they all boil down to this:

Trust is the willingness to be vulnerable and open to risk because you’re confident in another person or organization’s integrity, reliability, and ability.

Rachel Botsman, who wrote the most recent book on the topic, defines it even more simply as, “a confident relationship with the unknown.”

Think about that for a second.

Trusting someone or something (say, a service provider or government) means opening yourself up to the possibility of being let down. It's almost more about belief and hope than it is about proof.

No wonder trust is so hard to give and get. It exposes us. 

And depending on how many times we’ve been burned in our lives, each of us has varying degrees of this confidence in other people or things.

But I think the thing we miss (or at least, I've missed) about trust is that the risk goes both ways. If trust is a confident relationship with the unknown, then vulnerability is the equal exchange that keeps trust balanced.

In theory, that means that when you show us the messy middle—the uncertainty, the learning, the human side of you behind the polished thing—we feel safer trusting you because you’ve done the risky thing first. 

Am I making any sense? Doesn't that seem like the most important thing we can do to earn trust when it feels like we can trust nothing?

One of my storytelling cohort students had her best-performing post ever last week, and guess what? She completely panicked.

The post did exactly what it was intended to do. It got hundreds of thoughtful comments and several DMs—including a couple from prospective clients.

Score, I thought. Proof that the stuff I teach actually works.

I was thrilled for her. And I expected her to be thrilled, too. But when I asked her how she felt about her successful first attempt at public personal storytelling, thrilled wasn’t it.

The feeling, she said, was "deeply uncomfortable."

Wait a minute.

Isn’t this exactly what we all say we want? To be seen and recognized? To have our words and ideas land somewhere and spark a conversation that leads to tangible business outcomes?

And then I remembered that it’s not that simple.

I also get all tangled up in conflicting emotions when I get noticed by a large group of people.

Imposter syndrome creeps in, and I start spiraling with the same nagging fears that I hear many of my students speak out loud about being misunderstood or boring or unoriginal.

We say we fear obscurity, but the truth is that visibility is even scarier because standing out means standing wide open. 

And that tension we feel comes from the collision of two deeply human needs:

1. To be seen, and
2. To feel safe.

So what do most of us do?

We stick to “what works.” We echo what’s already been said (and liked and reposted).

And then we wonder why everything—from brands, to architecture, art, and people—feels like it came out of the same agency, firm, AI tool, or Justin Welsh coaching program.

Over the past five weeks in my storytelling cohort, I’ve watched a brave group of entrepreneurs navigate this tension.

Week after week, they've shown up with stories that left them feeling exposed. Stories that made their voice shake when they read them aloud.

And week after week, they kept finding that the more they opened up, the deeper the connection with themselves and with each other.

Hearts were opened, tears were shed, and work collaborations were made.

While letting yourself be seen might always feel a little (or deeply) uncomfortable, the more you do it, the more you realize that vulnerability isn’t a liability as much as it’s a magnet.

If it feels hard, then congrats! You’re doing it right.

Unless you’ve already cracked the code with tons of engagement and a waitlist full of dream clients, I guarantee you’re either too expert or too elite.

And until you figure out your primary archetype and make some adjustments to position yourself somewhere in the middle, no amount of storytelling will get you both the reach and resonance you might be after.

According to Rob Henderson (who first introduced me to this framework), experts are people who know things, like specialists, beat reporters, or engineers. It's anyone whose credibility comes from technical competence.

Experts tend to be detail-oriented and cautious, and focused more on what’s right than on who’s listening.

Their biggest problem is that they lack reach.

Their work is only as influential as the number of people who understand it, and they tend to talk within their field instead of to the public.

Elites, on the other hand, are people “who move things,” and their mission is to influence people to act.

These are your politicians, executives, media personalities, and influencers. They’re the big-picture thinkers and persuasive communicators who can rally people around a shared goal and tend to shape culture.

But because they depend on status and consensus without any poof to back up their ideas, their problem is that we don’t trust them to deliver.

Here’s why it matters: The people we tend to trust, follow, and hire are often performing both roles at once.

And while it’s a spectrum, most of us tend to lean toward one archetype or the other.

I work with lots of experts who are credible and experienced but virtually invisible. People respect them, but their ideal clients don’t know they exist because their reach is usually limited to other experts.

On the other end, I have plenty of peers who are elites. They're popular and get tons of engagement, but have no real influence that leads to meaningful business outcomes. Without proof that what they’re selling works, we don’t trust them enough to take action.

The bottom line is that to build a brand online (or anywhere), you need to be both right and resonant.

You need to tell stories that inspire and demonstrate your expertise.

You need to build a body of work that not only proves you know something worth hearing, but also communicates it in a way worth spreading.

When I first started building my brand online, I went all in on expertise and managed to capture the attention of peers who respected me, but weren’t buying what I was selling.

Then I swung in the opposite direction (my true nature) with big ideas that got tons of reach, but failed to show the concrete steps or tactical application to help my ideal client understand my process or see proof that it worked.

When I finally understood my primary archetype and shifted to land somewhere in the middle, both my content and my inbound took off.

That's where I am now. My content generates lots of likes and brings in plenty of business.

Where are you?

taplio