Well, my summer ended up in a different direction than planned, and rather than spending it writing and flying airplanes, I dedicated it to helping teach a wonderful group of underserved BIPOC teens about aviation on a full-time basis as a volunteer. That means that things that are technically optional in my life, like this blog, took a back seat. However, I am back now. This week’s topic is about hard truths to do with writing. Writing can be a fulfilling and creative outlet, but it comes with its challenges, and some of them are rarely, if ever, addressed.
A lot of people see TikTok influencers who never expressed any prior interest in writing being handed book deals and striking it rich. It’s easy to think, based on this, that writing must be an effortless path to fame and money. Those influencers, though, almost always get those deals because their followings guarantee sales; it’s a trendy move for publishers who know the numbers will work in their favor and so deals are literally outright offered to influencers who have yet to write a word. Five years ago, influencers were handed makeup collab deals if they had large enough followings. Now, they’re being offered book deals just to have their names on the covers.
From the outside, watching bandwagons form around even mediocre books written by people handed deals on silver platters, or even written by ghostwriters, writing books and getting published looks so easy, like anyone can do it. The idea of being a writer is appealing—imagining a world and having adoring fans fawning over the stories you created. It’s a romantic notion, but few truly understand the grueling process behind the glamour or how difficult writing can really be. And the stone-cold reality is that, if anyone could do it, then everyone would.
After part 2 of this article posts, I will post an article about the rewards of writing.
Ten Hard Truths About Writing
1. Not Everyone Has What It Takes to Be a Great Writer
This is the hardest truth to hear: While anyone can learn the mechanics of writing—grammar, sentence structure, and even storytelling frameworks—the ability to write truly well is something that can’t be fully taught. It’s innate, a blend of natural creativity, insight into human nature, and a sense of rhythm and language that great writers possess instinctively. Writing isn’t just about putting words on a page; it’s about weaving ideas, emotions, and perspectives into a narrative that resonates with others. Great writers have an intuitive grasp of how to come up with ideas, of how to take a raw concept and shape it into something meaningful. This level of creativity isn’t something that can always be taught, and that’s an important truth to acknowledge.
However, recognizing this truth isn’t about discouraging anyone from pursuing their passion. It’s about opening doors to finding where one truly belongs in the storytelling process. The world of writing and publishing is far more complex than just being “the writer” with a name on the cover. There are editors, agents, beta readers, publicists, layout artists, graphic artists, and so many other roles that are just as essential to getting stories into the world. One of the people in my inner writing circle is a perfect example of this. She admits that she couldn’t write an initial story to save her life, but as an editor, she’s extraordinary. Her ability to fine-tune someone else’s work, to see flaws and polish them into brilliance, is a gift in itself. She helps elevate the stories she loves, breathing life into characters and plots that might have otherwise fallen flat. But would she have found that fulfilling career if she had pressured herself to be the headline author instead of embracing her role as an editor? Probably not.
In the same way, some writers are terrible editors. They may be brilliant at generating ideas and writing with flair, but when it comes to shaping work, whether that be their own or the work of others, with a critical eye, they stumble.
Yet, both roles are crucial to the storytelling process. One can’t thrive without the other. There are numerous other rolls as well, just as no film can exist if the only person involved is the one whose name is in the headlines.
Acknowledging that not everyone is born to be a great writer isn’t the end of the world—it’s the beginning of finding the place where your unique talents can shine. Whether you’re the one creating the stories or the one refining them, helping get them into the world at large, or even discovering them, there’s a valuable spot for you in the world of storytelling.
2. The First Draft Is Just the Beginning
Finishing a first draft can feel like an enormous accomplishment—and it absolutely is—but what many aspiring writers don’t realize is that this is only the beginning of the real work. Writing the initial draft often feels like the most creative and exciting part of the process, and for many, it’s the fastest. The story is fresh in your mind, and the words flow as you capture the essence of your idea on the page. But once that draft is complete, the real challenge begins: revisions.
Revising isn’t just about fixing typos or tweaking a few sentences. It’s about digging deep into the bones of the story and asking yourself difficult questions: Is the plot structure sound? Do the characters’ motivations make sense? Are there plot holes? Are the pacing and flow consistent, or does the story drag in places? Every scene needs to be examined critically. This often leads to major rewrites, restructuring entire chapters, adding new content, or cutting scenes you loved but that no longer serve the story. What initially seemed like a completed draft can suddenly feel like a puzzle with missing pieces, or worse, pieces that no longer fit at all.
After the first round of revisions comes the editing process, and this takes even more time and energy. You’ll go through draft after draft, identifying awkward phrasing, overused words, and inconsistencies in tone or style. And just when you think it’s perfect, you’ll find something else to fix—whether it’s an underdeveloped character arc, clunky dialogue, or a subplot that goes nowhere. Even then, the work isn’t done.
Once you’re satisfied with your own revisions, it’s time to bring in outside eyes—beta readers, critique partners, or editors. These people will offer fresh perspectives, pointing out issues you may have overlooked. Perhaps the pacing that felt fine to you actually drags, or a character that you thought was charming comes across as flat or inconsistent. This feedback often leads to another round of revisions, where you adjust based on others’ insights, sharpening the narrative even further.
After revisions and edits comes proofreading. This is the meticulous process of ensuring that grammar, punctuation, spelling, and consistency are flawless. It’s not just about catching typos; it’s about ensuring that your manuscript is polished and professional. By the time you’re proofreading, you’ve likely read through your manuscript dozens of times, and it can be difficult to remain sharp and catch every small error. This is why many writers rely on professional proofreaders at this stage—it’s an investment in ensuring the manuscript is the best it can be before it’s sent out into the world.
What many new writers don’t realize is that this entire process—revisions, edits, proofreads—can take months, even years. The draft you thought was finished is constantly evolving, and new problems often arise with each revision. Each layer you peel back reveals new elements that need refining. This process requires incredible dedication, patience, and the willingness to repeatedly tear apart and rebuild your work. It’s exhausting, but it’s also where the magic happens. The rough ideas of the first draft are shaped and refined into something cohesive, powerful, and polished.
In the end, it’s the revision process that separates the first draft from the finished product, and it’s this painstaking effort that turns a good story into a great one.
Even if you decide to attempt the traditional route and manage to secure an agent and land a traditional publishing deal, the revisions and editing process is still required. There’s no escaping the hard work of refining your manuscript, no matter who’s footing the bill for the editors. The difference with traditional publishing is that the publisher will cover the cost of professional editors, but you’re still going to be the one making the changes, rewriting sections, and addressing the feedback they provide. You’ll be going through multiple rounds of edits, just as you would if you were self-publishing. If you thought the hardest part was finishing that first draft, you’re in for a reality check—because now the real work begins.
3. You’ll Have to Kill Your Darlings
No matter how much you love a particular scene, character, or beautifully crafted sentence, there will inevitably come a time when you need to cut them for the sake of the story. It’s one of the most difficult aspects of writing—letting go of something you’ve poured time, energy, and emotion into, especially when you’re personally attached to it. A character might be your favorite to write, so full of quirks and charm, but if they don’t contribute to the progression of the plot or the growth of the protagonist, they become a distraction. The same goes for scenes that, while vivid or exciting, may slow down the pacing or derail the story’s focus.
Cutting a scene or a character you’ve poured your heart into can feel like you’re cutting a piece of yourself out. When a character feels like they’ve come alive on the page, like they’re an extension of your own thoughts and emotions, the realization that they don’t belong in the story anymore can be brutal. It’s not just a matter of crossing out words or deleting a few pages—it can feel like excising a part of your soul. The pain of removing a character you’ve nurtured, whose voice you’ve grown accustomed to, can bring on an overwhelming sense of loss, as though you’re mourning a friend. There may be tears, a tightening in your chest, and a hollow feeling as you watch that beloved piece of your world vanish. The emotional toll…
4. The Emotional Toll is High
The emotional toll of writing can be far more intense than most people realize. It’s not just about putting words on paper—it’s about immersing yourself in the minds and hearts of your characters, and sometimes that means confronting feelings you weren’t prepared for. As a writer, you’re in control of everything that happens in your story, including the pain and suffering your characters endure. Deciding to hurt characters you love, knowing that you’re the one orchestrating their hardships and not the villain, can feel like a kick in the gut. It’s hard not to feel like a rotten person when you’re the one pulling the strings, causing the betrayals, the heartaches, the struggles they face. You feel their pain, their sense of loss or betrayal, because on some level, they’ve become an extension of yourself.
Many of us have a natural instinct to protect the people we love, and that extends to the characters we create. We want to shield them from harm, to keep them safe from the cruelty of the world we’ve built. But just as in life, where children need to face challenges to grow, our characters need to experience hardship to evolve. Protecting them from everything that might make them upset or uncomfortable would strip the story of its stakes, its tension, and its ability to resonate with readers. Growth comes through struggle, through pain, and it’s our job as writers to ensure our characters face those moments, even if it feels like we’re the ones causing them to suffer…because we are the ones causing the suffering.
It’s especially challenging when you’re writing from the perspective of a villain. This could be the most deplorable, sickening character you’ve ever created, and yet, to write them believably, you have to step inside their mind and see the world through their twisted perspective. You have to find a way to justify their actions—not to yourself, but to them—and understand how, in their eyes, what they’re doing is right, even if it’s utterly wrong. Take someone like Thanos, for example. While his methods were monstrous, what made him compelling as a villain was the fact that, to him, his motives were genuinely good. He believed he was saving the universe, and many audience members, though horrified by his actions, could at least understand where he was coming from. That’s the kind of depth you need to give your villains—an inner logic, however warped it may be.
But as the writer, it can feel disturbing to inhabit that headspace. You find yourself rationalizing cruelty, violence, or oppression from the villain’s perspective, and it can leave you questioning yourself. How can you justify these actions, even fictionally? Writing from that dark place can make you feel sick, like you’re dragging yourself through mud just to bring out the worst parts of humanity. It’s emotionally taxing, and after spending time in the mind of someone so reprehensible, you might need to take a mental break to pull yourself out of that darkness.
Those intense, believable scenes that readers find so harrowing to read? Almost guaranteed, the writer had to spend time in a dark place in their own mind to make it happen. Writing something rough or traumatic, especially from the villain’s perspective, demands that you walk through their world with them—and it can take an emotional toll. Sometimes, that toll is heavy, and when the scene is over, you have to shake off that weight before you can return to the lighter parts of your story or your life.
Even if you write light, fluffy rom-coms, there will be moments where you have to put your characters in situations that hurt them—rejections, misunderstandings, moments of loneliness or doubt. Writing something bad happening to a good character can be hard, no matter how trivial it might seem from the outside. The emotional weight of it is real, and as the creator of their world, you bear the burden of knowing that you’re the one inflicting it.
5. Writing Can Be Isolating
Writing requires solitude. You’ll spend long hours alone at your desk, tangled in your own thoughts, struggling with plot holes, character development, or emotional scenes. And more often than not, no one will be there to help you untangle those knots. While feedback from others is valuable, and collaboration has its place, the act of writing itself is ultimately something you do alone. This is true even when you have a co-writer. You have to be comfortable with that solitude—learning to thrive in the quiet space where it’s just you and the blank page.
But this solitude can also feel deeply isolating. When you’re wrestling with a tricky plot point, a complex emotional scene, or the aftermath of spending too much time in a villain’s dark mindset, it can be hard to find someone who understands well enough to talk it through. You may want to vent, to talk out a problem, but no one else knows your story, your characters, or your world as intimately as you do. This makes it difficult to find a sounding board who truly gets it. You can explain the basics, but it won’t always capture the depth of the emotions you’re experiencing or the complexity of the dilemma you’re facing. Sometimes, you just need someone who can help you shake off the weight of being inside your villain’s head or help you emotionally reset after a particularly rough scene—but finding that person isn’t always easy. It’s in these moments that the solitude of writing can feel most isolating, leaving you to wrestle with both the story and the emotions it stirs in you on your own.
And unlike other forms of art, writing isn’t something you can show someone “really quick.” You can’t ask someone to glance at a drawing or passively watch a video for a few seconds to get instant feedback. Reading takes time, concentration, and energy. It’s an active process, and asking someone to read even a small section of your work is asking them to invest a significant amount of effort. This makes it tricky to find people who are both interested and willing to invest that energy. As a result, the feeling of isolation deepens. You might feel like no one cares about your work because it’s harder to share in those quick, casual moments. It’s not that people don’t care, but the barrier of entry to engage with writing is higher than with other art forms. The need for that investment can sometimes leave you feeling like you’re shouting into the void, struggling to connect with anyone who fully understands or can offer the kind of feedback and support you need.
Though these challenges may seem daunting, and it might feel like discouragement, it’s not. In fact, acknowledging these hard truths is empowering. The better prepared you are to face them, the higher your chances of success in writing. Knowing the emotional and practical hurdles ahead allows you to build the resilience and mental fortitude needed to navigate them. These struggles don’t diminish your passion—they shape you into a stronger writer. The next five hard truths are easier than these, and once you’ve tackled them, stay tuned for some of the true joys of writing—the moments that make all the difficulty worthwhile.