Write About Writing
Table of Contents
I like to write, and sometimes I like to write about writing. This meta-reflection offers valuable insights into the creative process. There’s a touch of irony here—similar to artists who teach because they can’t sustain themselves solely through their art. In my case, I’m neither successful enough to earn a living from my writing nor from teaching it, but I genuinely enjoy both activities nonetheless. This practice of examining one’s craft often deepens understanding, as teaching something frequently strengthens our own grasp of it.
The Value of Creative Self-Examination #
Like any creative endeavor, it’s worth stepping back occasionally to examine your process—why you do something, how you approach it, and whether it still serves you. Are you creating what truly matters to you? Is your work an authentic expression or a half-hearted attempt at something else? Are you doing it for yourself, for others, for money, or to make a difference?
Writing things down provides an excellent starting point. What you write sometimes matters less than simply engaging in the act itself. When Van Gogh painted Starry Night, he likely didn’t wake up thinking, “Today I will create a masterpiece!” More probably, he simply thought, “Today I will paint.” And so he did.
Let’s not kid ourselves—I’m no Van Gogh, nor do I aspire to be (or maybe I secretly do but I’m not admitting it). The catharsis of writing satisfies me, along with occasional notes from readers who connected with something I wrote. That’s enough to keep me going.
The Challenge of Actually Writing #
The challenging part of writing is that you must actually do it. You can’t just think about it, talk about it, or read about it. You have to sit down and write. Determining what to write often proves most difficult. Sometimes the best approach is simply starting and seeing where your thoughts lead. You can always edit later. It’s perfectly fine to begin in one direction, change course, and then veer somewhere entirely different. I frequently go back and rewrite things I’ve written (like this post), but I rarely delete anything. Usually I add to it, sharpen my thoughts, and make it better.
There is no try, only do.
— Yoda, I think 🤔
Many people talk enthusiastically about writing their memoirs, novels, blogs, or other projects, but they stumble at the most fundamental step: they never actually write. They may have brilliant ideas, but without execution, those concepts remain unrealized potential. An idea by itself typically has no monetary value—it becomes valuable only when transformed into something tangible. Until you create a concrete deliverable that others can experience, even the most inspired concept remains just that: an idea floating in the realm of possibility rather than reality.
The Simple Rule of Writing #
Writing has just one fundamental rule: you must write. You can explore any topic, in any style, using any format you choose. Don’t worry about your audience size or reception. Those who appreciate your work will stay, and those who don’t will move on—a natural self-selection process. The readers who enjoy your perspective will continue reading and might even share it with others.
Finding Meaning Beyond Recognition #
Much of human behavior, including writing, stems from ego-driven desires. We want to be read, heard, and understood. We seek praise, attention, validation, and connection. Many dream of becoming extraordinary—perhaps even remembered long after they’re gone. Yet artists like Van Gogh weren’t primarily concerned with fame. He painted because he loved painting, and though he attempted to sell his work to support himself, he never succeeded during his lifetime. He painted what moved him, unconcerned with others’ understanding or approval. He poured himself into his art—which brought him fulfillment but perhaps also contributed to his struggles.
You should kill your ego, if possible. It’s a terrible master.
Stories like Van Gogh’s resonate because many of us identify as misunderstood creators seeking connection. We write, paint, and create hoping to express our authentic selves, connect with others, and discover deeper meaning. While we might desire recognition, the reality is that most creative work never receives widespread acclaim. Few writers achieve celebrity status or support themselves solely through their art—and that’s perfectly fine. Write because it fulfills you, because the process brings clarity or joy—not for external validation. When you release expectations about outcomes, you free yourself to create what truly matters to you.