Which Authors Cite Rising Strong As A Writing Influence?

Sometimes influence is obvious and sometimes it’s subtle. The most direct, verifiable shout-outs for 'Rising Strong' that I’ve tracked lead back to public-facing authors in the memoir and self-improvement circles; Glennon Doyle stands out because she’s publicly engaged with Brené Brown’s ideas. Other writers—especially those who mix research and memoir—tend to weave Brown’s themes into their work without always stating, "This book changed me."

If you want to map this influence, here’s a technique I use: pick a recent memoir or self-help book you like, then read the acknowledgments and Google the author plus 'Brené Brown' or 'Rising Strong.' You’ll be surprised how often a conversation or an Instagram post reveals the connection. Also listen to author interviews on podcasts; many creators talk candidly about the books that helped them risk bigger honesty on the page. From a reader’s perspective, spotting 'Rising Strong' in someone’s influence list signals that their writing will probably be brave and emotionally honest—a trait I always appreciate.

I've noticed a pattern: contemporary writers who foreground vulnerability often nod to 'Rising Strong' as a shaping text. Glennon Doyle is the most vocal example I’ve come across — she’s praised the book publicly and her work echoes its themes. Beyond that, the influence is less about an explicit citation and more about tonal similarity: many self-help and memoir authors adopt that blend of research-backed insight and personal storytelling that Brené Brown modeled.

When I want specifics I check author interviews, podcast episodes, and book acknowledgments. Plenty of writers thank Brené Brown by name for helping them take emotional risks on the page, even if they don’t list a single book title. So while a short list of exact names is small, the larger community of memoirists and personal-essayists shows 'Rising Strong' all over their creative DNA, which is what matters most to me.

You've probably noticed 'Rising Strong' popping up on a lot of reading lists for writers, and for good reason: Brené Brown's focus on vulnerability and narrative has seeped into how many people approach storytelling. I pay attention to the blurbs, interviews, and acknowledgments that authors share, and what stands out is that memoirists and introspective nonfiction writers frequently point to 'Rising Strong' as a touchstone. That includes writers who center raw emotional arcs in their work — people like Glennon Doyle, who weaves personal struggle and resilience through memoir and activism, and other memoirists who explicitly cite Brown's framework for reframing shame and failure when they want honest, human moments on the page.

Beyond memoir, I’ve noticed a whole cross-section of writers nodding to 'Rising Strong' in different ways. Creative nonfiction authors use Brown’s language about reckoning and rumbling with emotion to structure chapters; writing coaches and workshop leaders recommend the book to help novelists get past surface-level plot into emotional truth. In interviews and podcasts, guests who write self-help, popular psychology, and even some character-driven novelists will mention Brown’s influence on their approach to vulnerability. The influence isn’t always a direct citation in the front matter — sometimes it shows up in how an author talks about scene choices, or how they instruct readers to sit with failure rather than gloss over it.

If you’re hunting for hard citations: author acknowledgments, Q&A features, and social media shout-outs are where you'll find the clearest links. Many contemporary writers reference 'Rising Strong' when describing the turning points that helped them risk authenticity on the page, or when they describe how to translate lived pain into narrative power. Personally, reading those cross-genre shout-outs made me rethink scenes in my own drafts — stripping out bravado in favor of the messy, courage-filled work Brown spots felt like a small revolution, and it's been quietly changing the way lots of writers write.

Quick take: the most clear-cut citation I’ve found for 'Rising Strong' comes from Glennon Doyle, who’s publicly praised Brené Brown and whose work reflects similar themes of shame resilience and storytelling bravado. More broadly, memoirists, therapists who write for general audiences, and writing coaches often list Brown among their influences in interviews and acknowledgments.

I like to hunt those references in book jackets and podcast show notes; it’s a tiny ritual that tells me a lot about what to expect from a writer’s voice. Finding 'Rising Strong' in an influence list usually means the author isn’t afraid to get vulnerable on the page, which I always respect.

I get a lot of questions about who lists 'Rising Strong' as an influence, and the quick, practical takeaway is: lots of writers across memoir, self-help, and even some fiction circles. Names you’ll commonly see mentioned are memoirists like Glennon Doyle and a number of contemporary nonfiction authors who explore shame, courage, and emotional risk. People in writing communities reference the book in acknowledgments, on podcasts, and in Twitter threads when they talk about learning to write truthfully about failure.

What I love about this influence is that it isn’t prescriptive for style so much as it is a permission slip: it gives writers a vocabulary and a roadmap for leaning into vulnerability, and that ripple shows up in many different kinds of books. So if you’re hunting for examples, look at author interviews and book acknowledgments — you'll spot 'Rising Strong' cited again and again by writers who wanted to make their work braver. For me, seeing that made writing feel less lonely and more like a community project.

I got hooked on tracking how books influence other writers, and 'Rising Strong' keeps popping up in places you'd expect and a few that surprised me.

One clear example is Glennon Doyle — she’s mentioned Brené Brown's work repeatedly in interviews and on social media, and you can see that same focus on radical vulnerability and honesty in her essays. Beyond that, the ripple shows up across memoirists, therapists-turned-writers, and creative nonfiction authors: they'll call out 'Rising Strong' in acknowledgments, podcast conversations, or while discussing the craft of telling hard truths. I’ve found it referenced in author tweets, Instagram posts, and the forewords of books about courage and healing.

If you’re hunting names, look at memoirs published after 2015 and skim acknowledgments and interviews — you’ll find that 'Rising Strong' is often part of the constellation of influences. For me, seeing the same book crop up across different genres is comforting; it feels like a manual for emotional honesty that lots of writers keep reaching for.