Imagine Your Reader and Consider Your Purpose
What to do when ideas don’t produce a flow of words

I was writing an article when I got stuck. I was so jammed that I couldn’t think of what to write next. The idea was good, and I was confident it would help people. But no matter how I approached the topic, nothing would come to me. It wasn't a case of writer’s block. This was something different. It felt like my mind had become a clean slate.
After rereading what I’d written, I realized what happened. It wasn’t the idea was flawed or my writing was bad. It was deeper than that. I’d lost sight of my reader and my purpose for writing the story.
The other day, I received a comment on one of my stories. I’d mentioned that I don’t outline. I’ve tried it, but outlining is too restrictive and my writing suffers from such a rigid approach. An outline makes me feel claustrophobic, and I feel my writing is uninspired. My reader wrote, “when you don’t have an outline, you begin to panic when the ideas don’t pour into the paper.”
I suppose there is comfort in knowing what comes next. But by outlining you sacrifice the adventure of discovering the unknown. If writing a horror story, I want my readers to know there is a monster on the other side of the door. I want them to feel anxiety when my hero comes to the door, unaware of what’s waiting for her when she opens the door. As she grasps the doorknob and begins to twist it, I want my readers to scream “NO”. I want them to feel so much angst that their pulse pounds. And no matter how much they don’t want to keep reading, they care so much about the hero that they can’t tear their eyes from my story.
Before I can create a deep-seated fear in my readers for my hero, I have to first know her myself and then I must create empathy for her in my reader’s minds. My reader and my hero must be real to me. When that happens, I can’t help myself from writing the story.
If you are stuck while writing, look at how well you know your reader. Do you understand her and know her needs?
Imagine your reader by knowing your reader
Whether you’re writing a piece of fiction or a non-fiction article, you must know your reader. But what does knowing your reader mean?
I was thinking about things that have plagued my writing for decades. Writer’s block is a major bugaboo. Another is struggling with my inner writer, who demands perfection in every word I write. I’ve found the answer to most of the problems with writing get resolved by knowing our reader.
As I thought about writing problems, I remembered being deep in the trenches of a story when the story suddenly stopped. One moment I was writing feverishly. It was exciting. If it were a war story, there would have been bullets flying and bombs exploding. I couldn’t write fast enough. And the next moment it was as if I’d stepped into an episode of The Twilight Zone where I was teleported to an empty room with a desk and a chair. On the desk sat a pen and a tablet of blank pages.
I reread what I’d written, and it was a series of events but not a lot about anything else. As I read, I realized I’d gotten so tied up in writing about exciting events, that I stopped writing anything substantial that would benefit my readers.
I started my story over. This time, I focused on my reader. I wrote to help her and not about a string of events. I didn’t write a biography of her. I didn’t need to know all about her. What I needed was to know what question did she have that my article could answer? What fear did she have that I could relieve? Why was she feeling anxious? So I wrote to help her, my imaginary reader.
When writing, I want to help people. To best help them, I have to know about their fears and anxieties. What is worrying them? What keeps them up at night? What makes them feel like pulling out their hair?
Once I know my reader, I can imagine her. And I can write for her.
Readers don’t care about events, they care about people
Events are window dressing. They create the why of a story. In The Silence of the Lambs, the serial killer, Buffalo Bill, gives the reader a reason to worry about the FBI investigator, Clarice Starling. Without Buffalo Bill, there was no reason for Clarice Starling. As Thomas Harris unfolds the story, we learn about Clarice and her vulnerabilities. Gradually we care about her.
Writing fiction lends itself to elaborate and exotic backgrounds. We can write about a haunted house, the vampire’s den, or the chainsaw-wielding killer. Or we can write about the rejected lover or a heroic adventurer. The backdrop of a story creates interest. In the movie Alien, the creature is lurking through the spaceship Nostromo. After killing off the rest of the crew, the Alien’s last encounter is with Ripley. As we watched the movie, the backdrop and events drew us into the story. But by the end of the movie, we feel anxiety for Ripley. We care about her and worry about her. Will she survive or die?
When writing nonfiction, we use our reader's needs, fears, and anxieties to create a backdrop for our writing. We may not have a serial killer on the loose or a creature killing our friends, but we have frustrated people who are worried or anxious about their lives.
Never forget your purpose when writing
I advocate writers write every day. By producing new material daily, it creates a habit of writing. And by writing every day, we perfect our craft.
The downside of writing every day is a writer may produce new material just to write it. Everything I write, I intend to publish. It takes as much effort to write an article or story that will help someone as it does to write something as an exercise. So I write to publish.
When writing, I want to keep my reader’s needs foremost in my mind. I also remind myself that my readers are taking a small portion of their life to read what I’ve written, hoping it will help, educate, or entertain them. As much as possible, I want to give them value in exchange for their time spent reading what I’ve written.
When considering your purpose when writing, ask yourself if you are writing to benefit others or yourself. There is nothing wrong with writing for money. You have bills to pay, and if you can use your talent to earn an income, you are doubly blessed. If you have a talent to write, paint, act, run a business, or any other way to produce income, do it. But I find it much easier to write to benefit others rather than write for money.
When you are writing an article or story and the words dry up, ask yourself if your writing has moved away from benefiting your reader. If you’ve become enraptured with the backstory or events, stop and ask yourself if you have lost sight of your reader’s needs. Ask yourself if what you’ve written fulfills your purpose for writing the article.
Great writing starts with knowing and imaging your reader. Once you know your readers, you can write with a purpose to help them.





