On the Edge of "Send"

A note about this series: I'm finishing a book on AI leadership for higher education—not a technical guide or a futurist manifesto, but practical guidance for leaders making real decisions under real pressure. As I prepare to send the manuscript off, I'm reflecting on what the writing process taught me. This blog series shared over the next few weeks shares those reflections.

by Claire L. Brady, EdD

As I prepare to send the final edited manuscript of my book “AI with Intention: The Leadership Guide for Higher Education” to the publisher, I find myself holding multiple emotions at once. I'm excited. I'm nervous. I'm deeply eager to share this book with the world. And I'm acutely aware that the moment I press "send," the book becomes fixed while the work it describes continues to evolve.

I get asked all the time whether I've written a book—often by higher education leaders who are navigating AI with urgency, uncertainty, and responsibility. For a long time, I hesitated. Not because I didn't have something to say, but because I was so busy doing the work. Writing a book about something as evocative, fast-moving, and evolving as AI in higher education felt daunting. Maybe even presumptuous. How do you write a definitive guide to something that changes every month?

And yet, here I am—on the cusp of pressing "send." And what's driving that eagerness is simple: higher ed leaders need help now. Not someday. Now.

They need practical help. Thoughtful guidance. Language that helps them explain AI decisions to skeptical boards and anxious faculty. Tools that help them distinguish between AI applications that serve mission and those that just serve vendor bottom lines. Frameworks that move conversations beyond novelty and fear and into real institutional impact.

I can't wait to get this book into their hands.

There were many moments during the writing process—especially in the last few months—when I found myself mid-consulting engagement thinking, I wish this book were done so I could give it to this client. A president trying to build AI governance from scratch. A provost navigating fierce faculty resistance. A VP wrestling with whether an AI tool truly served equity or just claimed to.

I'd think: This chapter would help them right now. This framework would give them language for the conversation they're having tomorrow. Each month I kept writing, the weight of that delay was palpable. Every leader I worked with was someone who could have benefited from having the book in their hands instead of waiting for me to finish it.

But finishing a book while the field itself keeps moving teaches you something important: completion doesn't mean closure. It means contribution.

This book isn't the final word on AI in higher education. It can't be. By the time it publishes, new AI capabilities will have emerged. New challenges will have surfaced. New institutions will have tried approaches I haven't seen yet. And that's okay. This book isn't trying to be exhaustive or permanent. It's trying to be useful.

It's an offering into a conversation that's already underway—a conversation happening in presidential cabinets and faculty senate meetings, in advising offices and student affairs divisions, in board rooms and classroom buildings across higher education. My hope is that this book gives leaders better tools for that conversation. Clearer frameworks for making decisions. More confidence to ask hard questions. Permission to move at the pace their institution actually needs rather than the pace competitive anxiety demands.

The book captures what I've learned from working with dozens of institutions over the past several years—the patterns I've seen in what works and what fails, the questions that reveal readiness and the ones that expose gaps, the choices that strengthen mission and the ones that quietly undermine it. It's grounded in real stories from real campuses navigating real challenges. Not hypotheticals. Not vendor promises. Not think pieces about the future of education. Just honest accounts of what happens when institutions engage with AI thoughtfully—or don't.

And yes, it will be imperfect. There are things I'll wish I'd said differently the moment it's in print. Cases I'll encounter next month that would have made perfect examples. Frameworks I'll refine through future work. That's the nature of writing about living, evolving work.

But perfect isn't the goal. Helpful is the goal. And I believe—deeply—that this book will help.

As I prepare to let the manuscript go, what I feel most is gratitude. Gratitude for the leaders who trusted me with their stories, who let me document their struggles and successes so others could learn from them. Gratitude for the clients whose questions shaped these pages, whose challenges pushed me to develop clearer frameworks and more honest language. Gratitude for the students who remain at the center of why this work matters at all—the students whose education will be shaped by the AI decisions their institutions make in the coming years.

And gratitude for the chance to contribute something lasting to work I care about. Consulting is immediate and impactful, but it's also fleeting. This book will reach leaders I'll never meet, working at institutions I'll never visit, facing challenges I can't anticipate. That feels like a gift.

So here I am, on the edge of "send." Excited about what this book might make possible. Nervous about what I might have missed. Eager to see it in the hands of leaders who need it.

And already thinking about what comes next.

Because completion doesn't mean closure. It means the work continues—just with one more tool in the hands of people doing it.

Once I press 'send' on this manuscript, the next milestone is release—coming later this spring.

I'm ready to see this work move from my hands into yours.