Writing myths can feel like solid kernels of advice, but when you examine them closely, you start to see how wrong they are.
Maybe you don’t even know where these myths originated from! Sometimes they’re things we hear other writers say. Other times, they’re just false beliefs we assume to be true.
Today I’m sharing seven writing myths you can stop believing today. Hopefully, by doing so, you’ll open up more space in your life and mind for your writing.
You don’t need an MFA to write a novel. You don’t need to have a degree in English to speak intelligently about literature. And you don’t have to take online writing classes to get better at writing.
You certainly can (hello, I have!), but none of that is necessary. Plenty of talented writers have made a name for themselves without formal education or a degree in a particular writerly field.
The simplest way to learn about writing is to be a voracious reader. Read everything you can get your hands on and you’ll absorb the ins and outs of story and language.
The idea of the struggling writer is a bit of a romantic one. It’s almost as if we believe art isn’t deep or meaningful or honest if the writer comes by their art easily or if they get paid for their work.
So not true. You can write without it becoming emotionally fraught. You can write while holding down a job with health benefits so you can keep your family fed, clothed, and housed. You’re also allowed to earn money from your writing, too. There’s nothing wrong with cashing in on your skill and talent.
Mostly, though, I want you to remember that writing doesn’t have to be a struggle. If it feels that way, maybe it’s time for a new approach. I can help you with that!
I hear this a lot from writers that I work with. Many writers believe they can’t start writing something until they know exactly what it is they’re trying to say.
The reality is that you may not know the core of your story until you do some writing in the first place. It’s a kind of chicken or egg situation. You don’t have to know everything before you start to write, and you probably won’t know most of it until after a draft is written. If you did, you’d probably get bored and quit before long anyway.
Let yourself be surprised as you write. What’s the harm in that?
I used to believe this so fiercely that I hardly ever wrote at all. Unless you’re committed to getting up early, staying up late, or sacrificing any kind of social activity, most people simply do not have large blocks of time regularly for writing.
Once in a while? Sure! When I was working on my first book, I had a full-time job during the week and loved my weekend afternoon writing sessions at the coffee shop. I’d happily churn out thousands of words in a two- or three-hour window.
But in general, I wrote that book in small chunks of time on a much more regular basis. As soon as I started to see that I could get meaningful writing done in smaller periods of time, everything changed.
This myth only serves to limit you. By believing you don’t have enough time to write, you’re only making it impossible to write at all. If you change your mindset and allow your writing to happen in the time you do have during the day, you’ll get much more writing done than if you waited for the one day a month when you do have “enough” time.
If you write for ten minutes a day all week long, you’ll have done over an hour of writing by week’s end.
Also? I’ve found that I write more and better when I have less time. Instead of stalling or worrying about where to start, I’m forced to jump right in and get going.
That’s how I got my second book written. Baby nap times are unpredictable, so the moment I got to my computer I wrote. I simply didn’t have the opportunity to procrastinate or overthink.
Do you still believe this one?
I mean, really? Do you believe in your heart that your writing is invalidated if you aren’t tending to it every single day?
Being a writer is more than writing daily. Anyone can write daily. But if you’re a writer, the meat of your process lives beyond the writing. Writing consistently is important, yes, but so is reading, thinking, revising, having experiences that fuel your storytelling, talking about writing with other writers, getting feedback on your work, and giving it to others.
All these things grow your writing life.
Yes, write as often as you possibly can because that is how you build a practice, find your voice, and figure out what your story is. Keep a grip on your writing like you’re holding the string of a kite. It’s so hard to grasp it again once you let too much slack go.
But don’t pretend that it’s all or nothing. Don’t diminish your work because you don’t write as often as you “should.” Maybe you’re doing other important work in that in-between time.
I can distinctly remember the moment when, midway through writing my first novel, I stopped and thought everything I had written was so boring there was no way anyone else on the planet would ever want to read it.
Of course, it turned out to be untrue. It wasn’t the last time I’d have that thought, though.
This is a myth that so many of us come up against again and again. I think it tends to strike around the middle of a project when the shine of writing something new has worn off and we’re faced with yet another day of staring at our own words.
Maybe it’s a form of resistance trying to stop us before we reach the end so we won’t have to face the horror of our work being disliked. Who knows?
Whatever the case, it’s not your problem if anyone wants to read your work. That’s not something you can control. What you can control is the quality of your writing, the story you’re telling, and the effort you put into making it as good as you can.
That’s ok. No one does!
Even the most prolific, talented, genius writers have moments like this, so don’t let it be a reason you never start, or worse, stop before you finish something.
From a craft perspective, you can learn and practice just about anything. Need to work on dialogue? How are characters built? What’s the deal with structure? You can learn! If you don’t want to pay for a class, there are countless books, websites, and free videos online to help you out.
But there’s also a mystery to writing that no one can explain. It’s ok if you feel like there’s more to know about writing than you could ever learn. Some of it is unknowable. You just feel your way through it.
So learn what you can and surrender the rest. It’s a myth to believe that you’ll ever fully know what you’re doing when it comes to writing.
Well, I started writing it accidentally. I hadn’t set out to pen an entire 95,000 word novel, yet that’s what happened.
My second novel was one hundred percent intentional. I knew I was going to write another book and I had a pretty good idea what I was doing when I got started.
In both cases, there were some strong signs that told me I needed to write a book.
Of course, it’s not a scientific process that can be determined with a little check-list, but here are five pretty solid signs that you should write a book.
With my first novel, I couldn’t shake this one particular image that I wrote during a writing exercise. I kept seeing it in my mind for days after I first wrote those couple of sentences.
I not only kept thinking about it, but I was desperately curious to know more. Who were those people I’d envisioned? What were they doing?
I just kept freewriting until more information revealed itself. It didn’t feel like I was making it up, but rather that I was discovering it.
When I wrote my second novel, I couldn’t shake the image of four adult women who had been friends since they were teenagers together on Block Island. I kept thinking about their dynamic, their bond, their issues with each other. Again, I was so curious to know more that I just started to write and let the story reveal itself through the process.
If there’s something you can’t stop thinking about, whether it’s a scene you’ve already written, a line of dialogue, a character, a specific image, a concept… try writing on that specific thing every day for a couple of weeks and see what comes up.
In my case, I thought I was writing a short story with my first novel, but I soon realized there was too much story there to contain it in a few thousand words.
With that said, the next sign you should write a book is…
If I try writing something as a short story and I can feel there are many thousands of words more to put down, I commit to making the piece longer.
How can you tell, though?
As someone who’s written both short stories and novels, I can say it’s not always a cut-and-dry answer. Sometimes you can just get a sense that the story you’re trying to tell in twenty pages needs two-hundred to actually work.
Other times, you might think you’re writing a novel and realize at the end of the first chapter that you’re trying to draw out something that’s much more contained.
A good way to test if a piece should be book-length is to write scenes consistently for a few weeks and see if you’re still feeling energy from the story. In both of my novels, I kept feeling like I was being pulled forward to new scenes every time I saw down to write.
But if I had started to feel like I was simply out of energy and scenes, I would’ve regrouped and let it be a short story.
So many writers say they have a book in them, but so many writers never give it a try. If you’re terrified of the process, that’s valid.
It’s scary to try something new that could take up years of your life and which has no guarantee of success.
Why do any of us write books in that case?!
Well, it’s because we’re eager to try it. It may be scary, but it’s also exciting. No one really knows what they’re doing when it comes to writing a book, but the act of trying something new that you’re genuinely eager to try… that’s worth it.
Do you find yourself thinking, I could totally do this when you finish a book?
If you’re an avid reader, chances are you can write a book. The more you read, the more you intrinsically understand what makes a good story.
Beyond this, though, if you feel a creeping sense of envy about other people publishing books, you’re probably ready to try writing one of your own. Not only do you know that you could do it, but you have a desire for what another writer has accomplished. If that’s the case, that’s a pretty strong signal.
Sorry to state the obvious, but if you’ve been thinking about writing a book, you should probably just try writing a book.
I think some people stop themselves from trying because of any number of excuses:
Etc, etc, etc.
You need to let this truth settle into your bones.
No one has to see what you’re writing until you’re ready to share it. You can edit everything later on. There’s no one waiting for you to finish by a certain deadline.
Truly, the only thing stopping you is you. If you want to write a book… why not give it a try?
While I wasn’t writing much this spring, I carried this annoying little ball of worry around with me that said I was wasting time and being unproductive.
Every article about the latest must-read book would make me tense with jealousy and frustration.
I want my novels published and I don’t want to keep waiting for it to happen. I want to be an exciting new author with a killer book everyone’s talking about.
Yet, that’s not how writing works. That’s not how publishing works, either.
It’s also not what I want for my writing life. I want to feel my ambition and keep the joy of writing at the forefront of my process.
I’m sure you want that, too, right?
Instead of feeling like you’re behind or you’re not writing enough, wouldn’t it just be nice to feel proud of your desire to write and find a sense of satisfaction and enjoyment with each writing session?
But first, I want to let you know that my posts and newsletters will go from weekly to every other week after today through the end of the summer.
By this weekend, I plan to be done with the first draft of my second novel, a book I started exactly one year ago. I want to free up more time to revise it and work on short stories, too.
But back to that summer writing challenge I mentioned.
If you’re like me, you might be drawn to small writing challenges that ask you to stretch yourself or try something new.
I wrote my first novel as the result of a self-imposed 100 days of writing. It truly was one of the best things I’ve ever done for my writing life.
That’s the thing about tiny challenges: you never know when one will have a huge impact on your writing.
So, try this with me. You’re in charge of what you do and for how long, but if you need some suggestions, let me know.
Pick something off the following list and commit to doing it for a set amount of time, like 21 days, 50 days, three months. Shorter is sometimes better, yet there’s something to be said for committing to yourself longterm.
This list isn’t exhaustive. Maybe you want to write one new short story a week, or a chapter of your novel every few days, or a poem a day until you have 50.
The challenge here is simply to challenge yourself and commit to yourself.
There’s amazing power in deciding that you’re worth it. And even more power in deciding that your writing ambitions are worth it, too.
The key to writing more and worrying less is this: build a little challenge for yourself, commit to it, and be so focused on your mission that you don’t have time to worry about what’s coming next.
Keep your expectations at zero, but be prepared for the results to be more than you could’ve imagined. And don’t think too much into the future or worry about what you could’ve done in the past.
Start here, now, today.
Make the next couple of months about rediscovering why you ever started writing in the first place.
It looks different for everyone, but its purpose is always the same: to keep you from writing.
But what makes it funny is that sometimes the resistance is actually right. Not the parts of it that scream lies about your ability or your worth, no. That’s always wrong.
Sometimes, though, the resistance that keeps you from writing serves a purpose that ends up being surprisingly… helpful.
It may not seem so at the time. When I recently had a seven-week stretch of not being able to work on my novel, I definitely did not see how it could be helpful to have a break from writing.
In fact, the longer I went without working on my manuscript, the more frustrated I felt with myself. Instead of feeling like a good thing, the internal resistance felt pretty awful.
All I could think was how far behind I was falling, how many details I was forgetting in my story, how much longer it would take me to finish the draft once I started up again.
Yet every time I tried to work on it, the resistance won.
For a couple of weeks now, I’ve been writing my novel again. It was a bit of a process to re-enter the story, but now that I’ve got a grip on it, I’m making headway and feeling better about the last couple of months.
Not writing was, in fact, a positive thing. Here are my key takeaways that could help you, too.
It can be hard to tell exactly what message your resistance is sending, but in my case, it was a clear sign to slow the F down for a minute.
Think of it like mental brakes. Sometimes you need to tap those suckers a little bit and ease off the intensity of forward motion.
I’m big into accomplishing things. I love a good list and I love being productive and crossing things off that list. So you can imagine how hard it is for me to feel stagnant.
At the time of that “stagnation” though, I was dealing with some health issues that were causing me a lot of physical pain, loss of sleep, and a huge dip in my mental wellbeing.
The last thing I needed was the added pressure of finishing a novel.
Taking a break from working on it actually meant I wasn’t forcing the writing when I wasn’t in the mental space to think about the novel.
On one hand, I like to stay as close to my writing as possible so I can avoid the whole re-entry phase. It always feels like slogging through waist-deep mud the first few times I work on a long-forgotten piece.
But on the other hand, having seven weeks away from working on my book felt like a reset.
I didn’t stop writing altogether. I still wrote blog posts, newsletters, and freelance pieces. I even lightly revised a short story I want to send out.
I just never sat down to work on my manuscript during that time, and after it stopped feeling like weeks of wasted time, it started to feel like a breath of fresh air.
What I mean is, once I opened the document again and re-read the last chapter and a half that I’d written back in April, I realized the story wasn’t as messy as I thought and I wasn’t as stuck as I expected to be.
In fact, not worrying about plot or character development or subplots or the name of that person back in chapter four gave me a mental reset with my story.
I usually save this kind of thing for after a draft is complete, but it’s not a bad idea to give yourself some space from the text in the middle of writing it if you need to do that.
Maybe your resistance is a cue to try something else for a little while until you make it back around to your writing.
There’s nothing wrong with putting writing aside for a little bit and flexing your creativity muscles in new ways.
In my life, some examples include learning to knit something I’ve never knit before, making jewelry, learning modern calligraphy, reading books I wouldn’t normally pick up, binging podcasts I love, spending more time with friends or family I don’t see often enough, refining my wardrobe, or even giving myself a great manicure.
You’re not a failure if you’re not writing.
You’re not doing something wrong as a creative person if you put your energy towards something else.
Tune into your resistance and listen closely. Is it telling you there’s a legitimate reason to take a break? Could it be possible that writing isn’t what you need right now?
Maybe. Trust that eventually you’ll make your way back to your writing and there won’t be much lost besides a little bit of time.
Although I published a short story as well as some nonfiction (yay!), the first draft of my novel totally stalled out while I dealt with some health issues for a couple of months.
I’m working on the resistance of getting started again, and with that comes planning for summer, which is one of my favorite times of year to write.
Maybe it’s the extra daylight or how much lighter everything feels to me this time of year. Whatever it is, I just know that when summer rolls around, I’ll be writing again. But first, I want to set some intentions and make it super clear how I’ll reach my goals.
If you’re ready to also set your summer writing intentions (and MEET them), I’m here to share my best tips with you.
What would you like your writing life to look like by the end of the summer?
You can accomplish a lot in three months even with limited time (hello vacation and kids home from school and weddings and baby showers and parties and beach outings and all the things!)
If you know your destination, it’ll be so much easier to plan your route getting there.
So before you even begin working on your summer writing project, make a realistic decision about what you’d like to have accomplished when fall rolls around.
For me, I want to finish the last 10,000-ish words of this first draft and do a full revision. I also want to be back in a routine of writing more consistently, sending out short stories, and selling more essays.
What about you? Where do you want to end up?
Think about it and be as specific as possible. Clear goals are much easier to reach than vague ones.
I have one day a week when my toddler goes to daycare. The rest of the time, I’m with him and squeezing in my work during naps (and sometimes evenings, if I’m not totally exhausted).
Even though he’s been going to daycare once a week for nine months, I still overestimate how much I can accomplish with my free time. So I totally understand the feeling of disappointment when the time you have to write doesn’t fit with the actual writing you want to do.
To avoid feeling bummed or stressed by what you don’t accomplish, plot how you’ll use your time before you start.
Be conservative rather than ambitious. It feels so much better to get more done than you expect rather than run out of time and be nowhere close to your goal.
You can always go back and work on something else if you have time to spare, which will make you feel like a superstar!
So first figure out how long each part of your process typically takes, then add some time onto that. Always build in extra room for delays like resistance, bad writing days, or just life happening.
Better to be safe than sorry.
Once you have an idea of how long it’ll really take you to accomplish your goal, it’s time to break it down into smaller chunks that you can tackle each day, week, and month.
Try to be super specific here, too.
It’s not only satisfying to cross a specific task off your list, but it also helps avoid the paralysis that can come from being overwhelmed and not knowing where to start.
Below is an example of how I would break down the goal of writing half of the first draft of a novel over the course of the summer if I wanted to start something new.
This example operates on the assumption that I expect to write daily, or pretty close to daily, during the summer. Your version of this may look drastically different, so make sure you tailor it to what’s realistic for you!
Your plan might be much more detailed or much looser than this, but the key is to have a plan for how the months, weeks, and days will break down. Even if you miss a few days or even a week, you can rework the plan to get back on track.
And keep in mind that this can be fluid. You can change course whenever you need to, but it definitely helps when you set out with a plan.
Without a doubt, this is one of the best things you can do for your writing when you have a goal or intention you want to reach.
I offer accountability as part of my writing coaching service, but you can find accountability with your writing partner or group or any other creative in your life who might also need some support.
Accountability isn’t necessary, but when I’ve had other writers cheering me on, I’ve written so much more than I would’ve on my own.
For many writers, it just helps to feel a sense of camaraderie and support when we’re working on a project.
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