You know that moment in a murder mystery when they flash back to all of the clues that reveals that the twist ending was in front of your eyes the entire time? It’s a bit like that.
I remember writing little stories for myself, creating top ten lists for the amusement of friends in high school, funny essays that (some) of my teachers appreciated, and countless walks with my wife where I would paint worlds with rich characters in compelling stories.
On one of those walks, my (endlessly patient) wife asked a simple question: had I ever thought about doing that professionally?
I scoffed. “But I’ve never written before!”
Cue dramatic music.
That’s when all those moments flashed back at once, and it finally clicked. I hadn’t just been dabbling. I’d been writing my whole life.
Pablo Picasso once said, “Inspiration exists, but it has to find you working.”
Ideas come to all of us constantly: in the shower, on the drive to work, or just as we’re drifting off to sleep. The difference isn’t whether we have those thoughts; it’s what we do with them. Most of the time, they’re busy solving the 10,000 small problems of daily life.
If I go to sleep now, I’ll still get six hours before my alarm goes off.
Do we have enough leftovers so I don’t have to cook tonight?
But every so often, a thought slips in that doesn’t quite belong.
What kind of man takes a job keeping a lighthouse?
For most people, it’s an interesting idea, something to ponder or toss into conversation. For a writer willing to sit down and do the work, it’s a story quietly raising its hand, begging to be written.
“How do I answer thee? Let me count the ways”
Trick question. How do you become a writer or how do you become a professional writer? The first one is easy. Pick up a pen and start writing. The second one gets a little trickier (though they begin the same way).
I consider myself near the beginning of my own writing journey, so I don’t pretend to have a definitive answer. What I can do is point fellow seekers in the right direction, or offer a few signposts for the merely curious.
Write.
Read.
Repeat.
Every skill, from baking to building, requires daily effort. For writers, that means training your brain to live in the world of stories and learning their rhythm and tempo. What resonates? What doesn’t? Reading helps you discover the kinds of stories you want to tell and (just as importantly) the ones you don’t. It also sharpens your instincts for where a story and its characters should go once you put pen to paper.
Join writing groups. Share your work. Get feedback. Edit.…oh boy, there’s a lot of editing. Learn to love it.
After that?
That probably deserves a separate post. 😉
Finally! A question where I can turn the focus on others.
Being a former elementary school teacher, so many of the stories that come to mind are from that age. These books continue to provide generations a wealth of wisdom and guidance far into adulthood. They taught us right from wrong, the value of character, and the importance of resisting evil. And just like the countless books that have been (and will be) written, the hero is someone just like us, deciding to take a stand.
There’s A Boy in the Girls Bathroom – Louis Sachar
The Giver – Lois Lowry
The Chronicles of Narnia – C.S. Lewis
Tiger Lily – Jodi Lynn Anderson
Project Hail Mary – Andy Weir
The Night Circus – Erin Morgenstern
Calvin & Hobbes – Bill Watterson
Too many to count!
Like Edison said, “I have not failed. I’ve just found 10,000 ways that won’t work.”
Writing is hard work.
It’s especially hard because no one is making you do any of it. There’s no Dickensian boss looming over your desk demanding 100 pages a day or threatening to toss you out into the snow. It’s just you and the story, and that can be harder than any deadline.
So what works for me?
Former students of mine will be pleased to know I still start the same way I made them start: with a journal prompt. Something small to wake the brain up and get my fingers moving. Once they’re moving, it’s surprisingly hard to get them to stop. I also try to end each session somewhere interesting, so I’m not staring at a blank page the next day wondering who these characters are and why they won’t talk to me.
When I need a break, I grab a snack and head to a whiteboard (you can take the teacher out of the classroom, but…). I sketch ideas for other stories or characters, nothing precious, just playful exploration. It gives my mind a rest from the current project so I can come back to it refreshed.
As for drafts, I try to finish the first one as quickly as possible. I wasted far too much time on my first novel trying to make it perfect on the first pass. I’ve since learned that finishing a novel doesn’t happen in the draft, it happens in the editing.
The best writing advice is always the kind that actually resonates with you. Writing isn’t a recipe you can follow step by step and expect identical results—if it were, every book on the shelf would sound the same. So if these tools help, great. If not, find the ones that do.
The War of Art – Steven Pressfield
Amazing for hard days when you feel like giving up.
Creativity – John Cleese
Short and to the point! Not to mention funny and profound.
Art Matters – Neil Gaiman
A great reminder that (you guessed it) art matters in the world.
On Writing – Stephen King
There’s a reason this one comes up so often. Insightful, practical, and generous. No, you don’t have to like (or write) horror to get a lot out of it.
Scrivener
An invaluable tool for organizing ideas and keeping character notes, locations, timelines, and research all in one place so your brain doesn’t have to hold everything at once.
A really good thesaurus
A patient partner
Someone willing to tolerate the mood swings, late nights, and occasional “I think this is terrible” declarations that come with the writing life.
Characters always come first. Like real people, they’ll inevitably find themselves in complicated, compelling situations.
What if you think of the plot first? Perfect. Find the characters who belong there, throw them in, and see what happens. Then step back and let them take the lead.
