There is no “right” way to write; there is only writing. Of course, there are certain things you must do correctly, but the craft of writing doesn’t have a bouncer preventing you from picking up the pen (or computer) and getting to it.

“But I’m not good enough,” you say. Zip it, Timmy! No one comes into this world knowing how to write. You have to learn, just like I did, just like all the greats did. What is that? They are special? Unique? Well, they may seem that way from afar, but they’re all humans, just like you and me. So let’s address those questions simultaneously because they’re related. They became what they were because of one reason: they wrote as they would write.

What do I mean by this? At its purest essence, writing is about identity. I could never write like Edgar Allan Poe because I am not him, nor am I Hemingway, nor Brandon Sanderson. I couldn’t write what they write either. I’ve noticed many people confusing authors with the “right way” of writing, especially with a new wave of authors who have YouTube channels sharing their “methods” for success. A horde of people, not knowing any better, blindly follows without understanding what they’re doing and the consequences it could bring.

Writing, speaking, and thinking are the same process expressed in different ways, applied differently, and no two minds are identical. This means no matter how hard you try, you can never “be” another author; you can only be you. Sure, you can try to imitate them or copy some of their methods, but you’ll never be them.

“But I suck!” I hear that thought; I hear it loud and clear. No, I’m not a mind reader, but it’s the same thought I’ve had in the past and continue to have today. I’ll address it another time, but for now, suffice it to say that it’s a healthy thing to have inside your mind; you should use it to push forward.

So you suck; so what? You can still write. What are you doing, stuck with that thought? I know what you’re doing, letting that thought rule over you. I get it; it’s something I’ve been guilty of myself. Something I still do. So, time for full-frontal honesty. No matter how secure, confident, smart, or good at bluffing you are, that question will haunt you daily, every time you sit down to write or even to scribble something somewhere. But it’s something you must not let rule you. It’s too broad a question, too vast a subject, too profound a depth; there is no definitive answer to it. Instead, focus on the elements of writing: character, scene, story, theme, etc. I’ll address each element in time, but for now, know that these are the subjects you should be asking yourself about: is it good enough? Is this applied correctly? These are small, reachable, and tangible things you can theoretically grab. Brick by brick, you’ll build something.

I lied at the beginning; there is one wrong way to write—by allowing your insecurities to stop you. You’re letting a mere thought rule over you, determine your fate, influence you. Now stop and calm down. I know what I’m talking about because I’ve experienced it in my own flesh, my own mind. I also know the first big hurdle to overcome: you sit down, scribble a few sentences, and then you exit stage left because… something inside you akin to anxiety made you stop. Now, sit down again and get something clear in your mind: in this craft, there are no immediate results. And if you feel like something has come out perfectly, then that’s more reason to check it. In this craft, you can never be fully satisfied; you can be content with a work, satisfied with a piece of writing, even with a few scribbles on the back of a napkin. But you must always push forward. There are patterns, methods, theories, and concepts that must be applied correctly. In any craft, including writing, you have to master all of them, integrate them into your work the right way, and then you will succeed. It’s not certain, but you increase your chances.

“But it’s hard!” Yes, until it isn’t. The more you practice, the more you reflect on your practice, and the more you expose it to the world while reflecting on the reactions, you will master your craft. In complete solitude, you are blind, not knowing what you are doing.

Is there a right way to write? No. Are there correct ways to apply methods and tools? Yes.

Hi, I’m Wulfric von Gute-Lüfte

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