Writing Takes Not Only Skills But Also Heart: What I Learned As A Young Writer.
No amount of advice or practice would have prepared me for what I was about to put myself through when I started writing for the first time.
As a young writer, I hadn’t been able to see the forthcoming bumps in the road that were waiting for me when I chose that specific craft, ones that almost made me flip at an intersection and at some points crash into a lamppost.
Keyword; possibly, as I’ve surprisingly survived.
But even though I’ve overcome the struggles that came with being a writer for the past four years and counting, I should’ve known what I was setting myself up for when I decided to post my works as a writer online for the whole world to see. At the age of twelve-years-old.
I know, talk about a ticking time bomb just waiting to self-destruct.
I’m not going to sit here being reminiscent of the good ‘ole days and be a total cliche telling you that what I had gone through shaped the person I am today because yes, although I learned so much from starting out so young, I’m not going to deny it’s also shaped some pretty bad habits that to this day, I still carry with me.
If I could travel back in time and warn my younger self I would tell her to not have risked coming online and posting her works there for the whole world to see not until she was mentally ready for it.
Because guess what? I wasn’t.
I can’t change the past and even if I can I won’t, I can only view my lapses as evidence of my growth as a writer, and I can also use what I’ve learned to hopefully share some wisdom with those who are planning to take on the writing field.
Now, I am going to depict myself as some sort of professional thinking that my experience is the same as others because quite frankly, it’s not.
We all have unique experiences as creatives and I’m constantly evolving not only as a person but as a writer as well, meaning my knowledge fluctuates with time.
My style will change, and my way of writing will change, one moment I’d say I’m a romance writer and will only write under that genre, then the next I’m writing the next best upcoming mystery novel this world is ever going to see.
Style and expertise are easy to learn if you put your entire mind into it, all it takes is practice and to be honest, skills are the last thing we should have to worry about when joining the creative field.
Which yes, seems absurd and makes no sense because that’s how creatives get started in the first place, by polishing their skills in order to eventually capitalize on it.
But that’s where the issue begins, we get so fixated on the practicality of being a good writer who’s known for their wonderful works that are damn nearly seen as perfect, and having to eventually be recognized in the mainstream media as the next J.K Rowling or Stephen King.
We read these Writing Guide books that establish the Dos or Don’ts of writing, for example — how not to be too wordy with our prose, how not to instantly bore our audience, and all these other restrictions that’ll help us become better writers, or so they’ve said.
We shove these technicalities onto writers’ faces saying that this is what they’ll need in order to gain better knowledge about their craft, which don’t get me wrong, a lot of the time helps.
But what they fail to warn writers, especially beginners, is the emotional and mental turmoil they’ll have to face in their field.
I can’t promise to give you solid advice that’ll manufacture you into the next Jane Austen or Emily Brontë.
I can’t morph into the professionals who have lectured me about the rule of thumb when it comes to writing because none of them actually stuck with me throughout the years.
That’s not to say you can’t find ways to try and improve your writing, because yes, you can, especially if you take writing very seriously either as a hobby or a career, take it as you will.
But what I’ve noticed is that these tips are easily accessible and you can find different variations of them and can apply them to your own writing.
They’re never gonna go away and they’ll always be available for you.
But what’s not fully guaranteed to always stay, however, is passion.
This is something these manuals have never taught me when I started writing for the first time. They never warned me about the uncertainties that come with being a writer, the desperation of being recognized, the guilt of not being able to write just as much as your peers, the resentment of not being published, and the corruption the mainstream media inflicts onto creatives that’ll eventually get to their heads until it slowly breaks them apart like molecules.
They taught me about the hows, but they failed to teach me about the whys.
Because what’s the point of attaining such wonderful skills if the story behind your words holds no meaning? What’s the point of having a beautiful book cover that’ll attract dozens of readers when the content beneath it holds no sort of substance?
What’s the point of writing if you just want to be recognized for your name, but the words you’re trying to convey hold no heart to the story you’re telling?
What’s the point of writing if the memories it provides are those of sleepless nights when you typed and deleted every word you wrote down with immense frustration over the thought of why aren’t you getting it right?
Why am I not getting this as perfect as I had envisioned it to be inside my head? Why can’t I get this done faster before my editor calls me for my manuscript? What’s the point of your words if they bear no life nor joy?
They never taught nor warned me that despite gaining all of this skill and expertise, it would be meaningless if I had no will to use them for something that I was passionate about.
Maybe I can’t give you solid, concrete tips and ideas on how to better your writing because quite frankly, even I don’t have a definite style of my own.
But what I can give you, or at least share with you, is that at the end of the day, none of it matters if you don’t have the heart to want to know more in order to write more.
Ask yourself first if you’ll be able to maintain doing this knowing that possibly, you might not get anything out of it instead of just being able to do what you love and if that would be enough.
Ask yourself first if the stories you write or words you jot down are something you’d read if you aren’t striving to have other people read them as well.
Ask yourself if this fuels you, and if being able to do this alone is enough and shall not be yielded by complications outside your better judgment, knowing that your love for it is more powerful.
Most importantly, instead of asking how you can become a talented writer who obtains great skills and an impressive style, ask yourself first the one question that matters most:
Why did you become a writer?
