The biggest lie about how to write well
And why you must stop believing it
How were you taught to write?
Writing instruction relies heavily on the concept of “know your audience” on the surface, but underlying that seemingly practical and benign message is something much darker.
It’s a subtle power-over message – born from a colonialist philosophy that tells the rest of us, there is only one correct way to write, and it is to appeal to the ego of your “betters” (historically—wealthy, powerful, white men).
No matter if the man you’re appealing to is a college professor, your boss, or the editor of a respected publication—and no matter whether or not he’s literally white and male—this is the lens you’ve been taught to view your writing through, and the writing of your peers.
We are taught that if we just conform hard enough, we will be heard, seen, our right to exist validated.
That is a lie. We can’t achieve validation through conformity to an external ideal. We can’t trust a system that first asks us to erase our lived experiences. We can’t expect to heal ourselves or others through our writing unless we commit to writing the truths we feel in our bodies.
There’s more than one way to write a manuscript. But there’s only one way to write an authentic, compelling one that resonates deeply with readers.
In order to write the kind of truth that makes people shut up and listen, that lights up hearts and minds, you must learn to trust your own voice.
You start by simply paying attention to how each experience you have makes you feel, and doing your best each day to choose things that make you feel safe, strong, and loved. This can be as small as whether you chose to have coffee or tea or water in the morning, the projects you say yes or no to, or whether or not you decide to tell your friend exactly why you’re not going to their party.
It takes regular, consistent practice—building new muscle memory for what self-trust feels like.
With time, patience, and dedication, developing a consistent practice of building self-trust will bring clarity and certainty to your creative process. Once you get accustomed to listening for your internal wise voice, you’ll learn what that voice sounds like, how it makes you feel, and that’s how you break the habit of mistaking oppressive, fearful voices for your own.
This is also how to overcome the feeling of creative despair. When you trust yourself, you trust the process. You have faith that each low is just a precursor to the next high. You trust that even if the words aren’t coming today, they are coming.
Learning to trust your wise voice can start today. Ask your heart a question, get quiet, and wait for the answer. Start with something small. Pay attention to what surfaces.
What has your wise voice been whispering to you? How can you be a better listener?
