1. Write because you love it. If you do it for that reason, no one can touch you because the reward is intrinsic to the act itself.
2. Write for yourself – not yourself the writer, but yourself the reader. Write to blow yourself away. Write like that because you are not special and therefore there will be plenty of other schmucks like you. To that end write what you love, not what you think other people want you to write.
3. Writing is a skill. Work to be better than your previous self. This current work is not an end in itself but part of the excellences of what you will produce tomorrow. To that end, mistakes are victories and moments of true learning that improve your work.
4. Be truthful in all things and to all people, including yourself.
5. When you publish, you are a business and your books are products: act accordingly.
6. Build a platform which you own – i.e. a mailing list first, everything else second. Funnel people from other platforms to your platform.
7. Never sign away 80-90% of your intellectual property because you are not prepared to learn how to sell books, or because you crave the recognition of gate keepers. The first is laziness; the second contradicts points 1 and 4 in the manifesto. There are conditions under which a traditional contract could be signed: access to print distribution networks at scale, but separate from digital and audio rights; or when financial compensation exceeds the demonstrable earning potential you could achieve by yourself; access to multimedia deals – games, tv and movies – likely to exceed self marketing potential. If these conditions are met, then such a contract can be considered.
8. Pay to play – social media is a blight whose only benefit is access to unfettered data which enables targeted paid for advertising. Don’t try to sell books for free on social media – there is little to no evidence that it scales. Cases that appear to are examples of content marketing whose financial costs are hidden in the time used to create the content. Full economic costing demonstrates pay to play is the only thing that scales reliably. To this point: no risk, no reward.
9. Invest in your skills and your business either in time or money.
10. Money is not the only measure of success, but it is a really good one that is empirically verifiable and correlates with selling books to more readers. To that end and to points 6 and 7 when you publish seek to make money. Hope is not a strategy for selling.
11. Do the work. No one cares about your work in progress. Why should they? It doesn’t yet exist. They will care once you’ve written it – if it’s any good – so shut up and write. It’s not hard manual work. It is a privilege. If done well, it matters. So do the work.
12. Do not procrastinate. Beware of procrastination that looks like work.
13. Create a bookshelf of work to be proud of and remember point 1.
14. Remember to replenish the well. Take a break … sometimes. When you do, do it properly.
15. Writing is a long game, play it as such. Play today and every day you can with that in mind. You my lose today, but you can’t win if you don’t play tomorrow. And remember, while it can be a serious game, it is still a game, so have fun and get playing.
Daniel Soule
Once Dan is a horror author who was an academic, but the sentences proved too long and the words too obscure. Northern Ireland is where he now lives. But he was born in England and raised in Byron’s hometown, which the bard hated but Dan does not. They named every other road after Byron. As yet no roads are named after Dan but several children are. Dan’s literary fiction has featured in Number Eleven, Storgy, and the Dime Show Review. His science fiction is available in Shoreline of Infinity and Phantaxis. And his horror can be found in Devolution Z, Sanitarium Magazine, Disturbed Digest and Into the Ruins.
Dan’s website is at dansoule.com where there is an exclusive ebook of short stories available, plus a classic horror novel.
We can’t hope to get better without constant learning. Just like I pointed out in my article about the self-taught writer, our teacher isn’t qualified.
I’ve heard this title going around for some time now, as if it’s begging for me to read it. I am not disappointed. The War of Art is just that, a war, and the war is against ourselves. I highly recommend it—not only for writers, but for anyone who is thinking about chasing a dream.
Will you be reading a book on improving your writing this month?
One mistake I see writers making—and probably the biggest—is playing too small. As much as they love writing, they “dabble” in their free time. It’s “a hobby” or “a dream” or “a mirage.” Who would want to hear what they have to say?
I was like that. I used to blush and shrink when people in the real world asked me how “the writing thing” was going.
But our words matter. And we have worlds within us that can only be accessed through writing fiction, ideas that can only be understood through story.
We have to care enough about these words to invest in ourselves and make ourselves into better artists and communicators.
Here are 7 ways to have fun with your writing. Explore the reaches of your creativity and never suffer from writer’s block again.
7 habits that cultivate creativity
1. Plan artist dates
The Artist’s Way by Julia Cameron is like a 12 Step program for creatively traumatized and repressed artists. Part of her plan is to book an artist date once a week with yourself. It doesn’t have to be anything to do with writing. In fact, it’s better if it isn’t related.
Go out and do something you’ve never done before. And outdoor adventure, a cooking class, a window-shopping trip, or a performance. Let your subconscious absorb and play with new sensations, experiences, and ideas.
2. Explore different genres
Writing outside of your genre can help you get out of a writing rut. Since it’s not what you’re supposed to be good at, you can detach from your expectations and feel free to experiment. Take it as far as you want to go. Get as silly, raunchy, gutsy, or gross as you can. You may be surprised to discover tools and techniques you can apply to your usual genre that you never knew existed within you.
3. Read and watch funny stuff
When was the last time you laughed out loud? I’m talking about unbridled laughter with your belly burning and tears streaming down your cheeks. Laughter is not only good for the soul, but it’s also great for creativity and productivity too. A sense of play is the key to high performance. When we turn writing into a game, it becomes fun instead of tedious. It’s soil for new ideas. We tend to be less critical and balky and more receptive and innovative. Get stupid, really stupid. Let loose and then go back to your work. See if you shook something loose.
4. Process, not outcome
If we’re perpetually focused on the end result, all the steps between us and our goals will seem overwhelming, if not impossible. Don’t obsess over the four novels you want to write or the twenty short stories you want to publish or the agent you need to win over, or the readership you need to build to get to the bestsellers list. What’s the next small step you can take today? How can you enjoy that step?
5. Invest in others
Self-centeredness makes our struggles seem bigger. Once good way to flip your switch from worry-mode is to shift your attention to others. Who is doing some great writing? What have your friends been working on? How can you support another struggling writer? Share someone’s book with your following. Post encouraging comments on other writers’ social media. Leave a thoughtful review for a book you really admired.
6. Give yourself permission
How often do you allow yourself to have fun creatively? Is it all word counts and structure? Performing personality analyses of your characters? Is it striving for perfection and not accepting anything less from yourself than the next Pulitzer Prize winner?
Remember, again, when you were a kid hanging out with your imaginary friends. Get back to creating for the sake of creating. Relax and let your intuition take over. Genius is birthed serendipitously. Let go of what you think you should do and just be a curious child open to the possibilities.
7. Chat with other writers and creatives
I used to think I was anti-social, but it turns out, I just wasn’t inspired by the people I was around—a default combination acquaintances, spouse’s friends, and people from work. They were wonderful people, but not creative people. That is why I founded the Writers’ Mastermind. I formed my own coven of writers where we have amazing discussions that light us up. Our meetings create a synergy that inspires, comforts, and informs our lives and our writing.
Do you have a circle of writing friends? Is there a local writing group you could join? If not, create one, or join on online community like The Writers’ Mastermind. There is nothing more fun and restorative to your creativity than having conversations that matter with people who care about writing as much as you do.
Remember when you were a kid and being an artist was fun? Finger paints and imaginary friends. Silly costumes and play-acting.
We didn’t think about whether or not our creations and performances would sell or receive a good review on a trendy site. The reward was the simple act of creation, to make something that didn’t exists before.
“Every child is an artist. The problem is how to remain an artist once we grow up.” — Pablo Picasso
As we grow from the limitless imagination and wonderment of a child into adulthood, that sense of creative abandon is diluted. We are caged by rules. We become overly self-conscious, losing our own individual spark in our desire to fit in or be on top of the next big thing.
Before we know it, writing becomes a chore. What was a wild refuge where we could run free is now a cramped and stuffy cubicle. It happens slowly, like aging itself, when we wake up one day to look in the mirror and wonder, who the hell is this person?
Not only does our work suffer, it branches out into everything. If we can’t have fun with writing, we can’t have fun with publishing. Nor can we have fun with book publicity and marketing. It becomes contrived, rigid, cliché, or boring. We lose the passion that used to inflame us, and it all seems like work.
7 habits that kill creativity
1. Judging yourself too harshly
We writers worship our greats. We aspire to be like them, and maybe one day we will. One of the reasons I haven’t published the series I’ve been working on for eight years is because I thought it wasn’t good enough. It didn’t compare to the masterpieces of my writing gods, Dostoevsky and Tolstoy. Really? Did I think I was going to be the next Tolstoy? On my first book?
Perfect is the enemy of good. Don’t stall on a good story, waiting for it to become perfect. Our definition of perfection changes all the time So do the best you can, and then let it go.
2. Comparing yourself to others
So-and-so is a bestseller and you’re not. A writer who just got out of high school is getting nominated for a prestigious award while you have none. A comparative author has double the amount of followers you have. Either you feel like scrambling to catch up with them, or you become discouraged and depressed that you are so far behind.
This is a recipe for misery. You are your only competition. And you don’t know what those writers had to do to get where they are. Furthermore, their life may not even be as great as it appears online.
3. Trying too hard to make it happen
In trying to hard to make it happen, we rush, we get sloppy, we create self-imposed deadlines that stress us out. We forget the joy of writing when we are pushing too hard, and we can sound like simpering sycophants, braggadocios, drowning readers in purple prose. Don’t overthink it. Don’t pander. Just get into your natural flow. Trust your you-ness.
4. Setting unrealistic expectations
Goals are important, but so is their achievability. If you set a goal to write four novels in a year while working a full-time job and being a parent, you are setting yourself up for failure. Not meeting these goals will make you feel like giving up. You will feel stressed and frustrated. Make realistic expectations for yourself. Give yourself room to live life while you pursue them.
5. Rushing for success
If you’re aiming for success, great. We all want to become successful authors. But, contrary to popular belief, success doesn’t happen overnight. Most of the most popular authors slogged for years before getting recognition. If you’ve made up your mind to be miserable until you are a success, you could be miserable for a long time.
Learn to enjoy your ride. One day you might be ridiculously famous and look longingly back on these quiet days when there weren’t so many deadlines and life was less demanding.
6. Not learning anything new
One of my biggest setbacks was that I kept writing without ever having taken one class. Even if your talented, you need guidance and feedback to optimize your skills.
I finally took my first class in Sept. 2019 with amazing writer and human being, Richard Thomas. It was the catalyst for everything that is happening for me right now. Not only has it opened new pathways, but I also feel more confident in my abilities and know what I have to offer and who to offer it to.
Most of us are flying blind, but when you are aware of your weak points you can improve them. Learning keeps you growing. It keeps your writing fresh. It’s incredible how much more capable you feel when you own your gifts and know how to use them. Evolving as an artist is one of the most satisfying parts of being a writer. Get involved in this process.
7. Taking yourself too seriously
Do you dwell on mistakes? Lose hope after a failure? Maybe you got a rejection. Or your book launch flopped. Has a snarky reviewer ripped you to shreds? Yes. It sucks. There’s no denying that. You can allow yourself a half a day to mope around.
Then be realistic about it. Your work won’t get accepted one hundred percent of the time. Your latest book might not be the one that skyrockets you to stardom. Not every reviewer is going to get what you were trying to do with your story. Laugh it off and ask yourself, what can I learn from this, and more importantly, what’s next?
