Am I a ‘Real Writer’?

When the Writing Process Becomes Harder

Over the past three months, I’ve attempted to edit the third book in my series. Each time I begin to work, a sense of frustration washes over me. Recently, I managed to sort my emotions into words. I will share them here, hoping the process will become easier after I hit Publish.

I don’t know if this is a common feeling, but it seems that writing happened more easily when I was a teenager. Words flowed naturally, edits were enjoyable. The reasons could be many, but for my situation specifically, I think these ring true:

• Words flow easily when there is room to breathe. When I was a teenager, I wrote for myself and a few close friends. I did plan to publish my work at some point, but did not expect anyone to read critically enough to pick apart plot holes. For better or worse, that helped me enjoy improvising first drafts. The story, as a result, might not have been tidy. All the same, my completed drafts had a certain honesty. They were not perfect, but they were alive.

• Stories seem to thrive when fewer people will see. Since there was not a large audience for these stories, I did not worry about reviews. If my readers consisted of a few close friends, the most I could expect from them were questions about plot points. My friends at the time were helpful with edits, as well. I did not think about ‘professional’ critics when writing as a teenager; I was focused on growth in the craft.

• Back then, a project ended with the second draft. As a teenager, I was not aware of how difficult marketing could be. A dream to see my stories on paper existed, but it was sometime in the future. If I did not know that marketing could be harder than writing, I was able to focus on writing. I did not carry an underlying dread of the tedious aspects of publishing. Today, I can write more, but in the back of my mind I always dread marketing.

What is Different Now?

At thirty-one years of age, my ability to focus seems to have changed. I used to spend hours in front of my computer, typing. Now, I am only able to do that if I write in bursts with breaks in between. Otherwise, I am easily overwhelmed. The slightest noise will throw me off. I cannot write with music on, either, which is inconvenient. Once upon a time, music helped with the process; now, it is mostly a disturbance.

As I take a step back and assess the situation, impostor syndrome kicks in. I used to want to write and write only. It’s now difficult to feel motivated to pull up a document. I ask myself if the best years for my writing have ended, since I cannot hyper-focus on a draft. Maybe I’m not a ‘real writer’ anymore. If I would rather do other things, I must have walked away from everything that was important to me as a teenager. I might have run out of time to get these stories on paper, letting them all down.

Or perhaps not. I might be looking at this the wrong way. If I focus on negative thoughts, criticizing myself because my thought process has changed, I might discourage my inner writer from ever trying again. Shouldn’t I be making more of an effort to find new ways that work?

I’ve not ‘let anyone down’ unless I quit altogether. Problem-solving would be more useful than self-pity!

What Does it Mean?

I am writing this post because it’s healthy to acknowledge these thoughts. It’s also healthy to refute them. If we dwell enough on negative thoughts, we might start to believe them.

If a friend of mine were to ask me if she was a real writer, I would laugh and tell her she’s overthinking it. Why should I not be just as helpful with myself? Why should I not also be kind to myself?

After all, if I am the person in question, that means there is something I can do to fix the situation. I can identify the problem—is it anxiety? An untidy work desk? Too many projects?—and find solutions, because ultimately, I am in control of this.

And then comes a philosophical question: What does it mean to be a real writer, anyway? Who is a fake writer? And how does this relate to my struggle now?

Proof of a Writer

When we hear that someone is a writer, we tend to think of an introverted hipster hiding in the basement with a laptop, inhaling coffee and writing chapters late into the night. They aren’t distracted. They probably write through Carpal Tunnel Syndrome (I’ve had it, so I know that you can’t write that way and not feel some pain!) They probably never leave the house.

A few writers must exist who live that way, and if it comes easily to them, it’s valid. However, it is not realistic to assume every writer should look like that. Humans need to try other things for the benefit of creativity. If we never shut the laptop and go for a walk, can we improve as storytellers? If we don’t gather new experiences to write about, won’t our stories feel lifeless after a while?

A real writer doesn’t need to fill in a stereotype. They can love other hobbies as much as they love writing. If you ask me, the only way to not be a real writer is if you’re writing with AI, or using otherwise stolen work.

I don’t believe, either, that you need to be writing all the time. If you can only manage a little bit every week, at a very slow pace, you’re still a writer. If there is a story alive and dancing in your mind, you are a writer—a storyteller.

No one can tell you otherwise, not even your own insecurities.

Asking For a Friend

So, I return to my original problem. Writing does not come to me easily, like it used to. I tend to drift off and do other things. I cannot write for hours on end without breaks.

I sat back and tried to refute these thoughts:

• Other hobbies are good for the storytelling process. I’ve read books about writers, and some begin to sound flat. Many writers are unable to write other writers in a way that makes them interesting. It’s too much of a mirror, and mirrors cannot usually hold our interest after a while. I would rather read a story about an artist or a zookeeper—professions I’ve wondered about but am unlikely to ever try.

• Quality is better than quantity. It’s fine that I cannot sit for hours, working on a draft. Those earlier drafts were exciting to write, but they would have needed shaving down before I dared to publish them. It’s better to spend a small amount of time writing good words. In writing, each sentence is intentional. No one likes a story that sprawls unnaturally.

As for my struggles with paying attention, they are real. There are things I can do to fix the process. I can make changes to my work desk, for example, so sounds and other distractions do not disturb me.

We have other things in our minds as we get older. This doesn’t make us fake writers! It just means that we are dealing with our various challenges in the ways that we can.

---

I won’t tell myself that I’m not a writer because of these things. I haven’t let my characters down, either. I will work on solving the issues mentioned in this post. Hopefully, it will lead to an edited novel by the end of the year. The story is alive; I need only find a way to help words flow again.

If you have ever doubted your own ability, be kind. You’ll find plenty of critics in other people. Try to keep your inner voice gentle as you address issues with your work. I believe that only positive feelings can lead to sustained creation. If you’re having struggles now, remember that they cannot last forever.

Have you struggled with any of the things I mentioned? Can you share advice?