The Best Writers? They're UNHINGED.

And you should be too.

May 17, 2025

Nobody asked for another girl with opinions about semicolons and story structure, yet here we are. The internet is already drowning in writing advice from people who've read Bird by Bird twice and think they've cracked the code to literary greatness, but maybe that's exactly why someone needs to say what everyone's thinking but won't admit out loud.

Writing isn't magic. It's not even particularly mysterious once you strip away all the romanticized bullshit about muses and inspiration striking like lightning in a coffee shop at 3 AM.

Most writing advice treats you like you're fragile—like you need to be coddled through the process with gentle encouragement and participation trophies for finishing your first chapter. Wrong.

You need tactics that work when motivation fails, when your brain feels like wet concrete, when every word you type looks like garbage and your internal critic is having a field day with your self-esteem.

So, this isn't about finding your voice or discovering your passion or any of that soft-focus nonsense. It's about getting words on the page when everything in you wants to scroll through social media instead. Because here's the thing nobody tells you: the difference between writers and people who talk about writing isn't talent or inspiration.

It's showing up anyway.

You Want Advice? Here It Is.

Write drunk, edit hungover—not literally about alcohol (unless that’s your thing) but about letting your first draft be messy and uninhibited, then coming back with a clear, ruthless head to clean it up.

Fall in love with terrible first sentences. The worse, the better. "It was a dark and stormy night" exists for a reason—sometimes you need to start with pure cliché just to get the engine running. You can always delete it later.

Eavesdrop shamelessly. Carry a notebook and jot down overheard conversations. The way people actually talk is far stranger and more interesting than anything you'll invent sitting alone at your desk.

Write in the wrong genre on purpose. Take your serious literary novel and rewrite a chapter as a horror story. Turn your memoir into a recipe. Write your love poem as a technical manual. You'll discover new rhythms and unexpected truths.

Befriend your worst critic. That voice in your head saying "this is garbage"? Give it a name, maybe Gerald. When Gerald pipes up, thank him for sharing and keep writing. Sometimes Gerald has a point, but he doesn't get to drive.

Read instruction manuals for inspiration. IKEA assembly guides, tax forms, emergency procedures—there's poetry in the strangest places, and these texts have mastered the art of clarity under pressure.

Write letters to fictional characters about your real problems. Dear Holden Caulfield, you'd hate my job. Dear Elizabeth Bennet, I need dating advice. It's amazing what emerges when you change your audience.

The most important advice? Give yourself permission to be bad at it. The best writers aren't the ones who never write badly—they're the ones who write badly more often than everyone else.