You will write like you train.
Professionals of every sort must practice. Why do we writers think we're different?
When I first decided to “get serious” about writing, I had this completely unrational, irreasonable expectation that I could just sit down, type the words until THE END, and I would have an enduring work of fiction. (No, I won’t tell you how long ago that was. It’s Top Secret®.) One of my writing coaches often refers to this as Gift-and-Talented disease. I blame my second grade teacher.
The Expectation Gap
I should’ve known it was unrational and irreasonable because in any other endeavor, I have always Trained™. When I was in law enforcement, I trained. When I (delusionally) thought I wanted to be an MMA fighter, I trained like a beast. When I was a professional speaker, I trained and practiced and rehearsed. At every performance, I handed out grading sheets to the audience to give me written feedback. All throughout my thirty-five years in software, I trained constantly by reading and writing code. Technology is an unforgiving mistress.
Every other profession has continuing education requirements. My wife is a special education teacher who has to attend scores of hours of required training, mostly hands-on practice, every year. Cops, lawyers, doctors, mental hygienists, nurses, soldiers, firefighters, and many more all have mandatory annual training requirements. Professional athletes basically practice for a living.
Why do we writers think we’re so special that we don’t need to practice?
The Practice Problem
When I was a working firearms instructor (yes, I’ve had a lot of gigs), our chief instructor had two sayings that have guided me ever since. First, Brian said, “Practice doesn’t make perfect. Perfect practice makes perfect.” While I might quibble about the word ‘perfect’ there’s Truth in the statement. Practicing inefficiently or wrongly will not make you better. Second, he said, “You will fight like you train.” I’m sure he was quoting someone, but I’m not sure who else to attribute, so I’ll give him the credit.
I’ve seen writers who have been slaving away, book after book, often self-publishing, and not making progress until they’re so frustrated that they quit. I have been one of those writers.
Writing is hard. I get it. But I don’t want you to quit, because the only way to win is to not quit.
This missing piece of most writers’ “practice” is that it’s incomplete. Perfection is not the goal, only truth. But in order to know if you delivered truth, you need to do more than “just read a lot and write a lot.”
If you could read your way into being a better writer, you’d already be, right?
The Missing Piece
In many art forms, disciplines, and practices, it’s easy to see when you err. When you’re shooting and miss the target, you know you made a mistake. Sometimes, you can even figure out what you did wrong.
Not really. In my professional experience, most shooters can’t tell what their body is doing wrong because they lack sufficient proprioception to tell what their fine motor skills are doing and are too stressed on the firing line anyway.
Michael Phelps has a swimming coach. Your favorite professional of any sort has a coach. They pay someone to watch them practice and give them feedback.
When you strum the wrong cord on a guitar, you can hear it. When you make a “bad” drop shot, you can see that the pingpong ball didn’t go where you aimed. I will spare you my open heart surgery analogy, but you can imagine what happens if you practice that wrong. However, in all those cases, knowing your performance was subpar isn’t enough to know how to correct it, is it?
For writers, that feedback loop is the missing element. You have no idea whether your writing really works unless another person reads it and gives you feedback.
Two people, minimum, are required to practice writing: a writer and a reader.
No, they can’t be the same person. You’re not reading your own words the same way as you read anyone else’s. Neurologically and emotionally, you simply can’t.
Quality Practice Requires Quality Feedback
Herein lies the heart of the problem. Who do you trust to give you feedback? Your mom? Your second-grade English teacher? Your significant other? Random strangers at poetry slam night?
Most writers have never exposed their writing to another person…because it literally feels like nakedness. Safer to not do it at all, right? Yet, if you’re going to do this professionally, you must sooner or later take the risk.
But the quality of your practice depends directly upon the quality of the feedback you receive. So, there are some simple guidelines for who to take feedback from:
People who have your best interest in mind.
People who care about you enough to tell you the truth.
People who are able to handle the content of your story without changing it.
People who understand story craft well enough to explain their feedback.
At the end of the day, the feedback you need is focused on turning your prose into the best version that you can write. It is focused on craft not content. If your critique group can’t handle the heat of your erotica, they’re not going to be able to give you good feedback. If your writing workshop can’t handle your graphic violence or the political opinions your characters espouse or the vulnerability of your memoir, they’re not going to be able to give you good feedback.
Choose your feedback providers wisely.
Next?
Be brave. Write something true and challenging. Share it with someone you know who is both willing and able to give you quality feedback. That’s the only way to get better.
Want help with your story?
What’ve you got in your sights for 2026? Is this the year you’re going to finish that book? I can help you with that!
If the Nine Circles of Revision Hell seem daunting to you, you’re not alone. They can be a slog, even when you’ve done them many times. For a lot of writers, the editing process is the most painful part of publishing. I’m weird. I enjoy it! But I’m aware that not everyone does. If you don’t get off on revisions or if you don’t even know where to start, let me help you.
I’m a Story Grid Certified Editor and founding member of the Story Grid Guild. I’ve been helping my clients with developmental editing of their novels and screenplays as well as chapter-by-chapter scene coaching for their works-in-progress since 2020. I joined the staff of the Story Grid Scene Writing Workshop as a coach in June 2024 and the Story Grid Writer Mentorship cadre as a mentor in January 2025. Beginning in 2026, I will be the official Story Grid Guild Wrangler (whatever that means).
I’m available for hire beginning in January, but I have only one weekly mentorship slot remaining for a private client. Book a campfire chat and let’s see if we might be compatible story adventuring companions.