It’s Vital to Know Your Writing “Why”

Sometimes there’s merit in cheesy, inspirational taglines

I felt my head grow warm and my eyes threatened to roll to the back of my head. I was in the midst of a Zoom call with my writing coach, and had steeled myself against clichéd self-help or vague inspirational speak.

She’d shared valuable, helpful insights until this point, but I’d experienced my share of Ted Talkers and psychiatrists before. I’d invested sizable funds only to hear Reach for the Stars! The Only Thing Holding You Back is You, time and time again. Nice sentiments with no real practical value.

“Know your writing ‘why’,” she said.

What? Oh man, I thought. Here we go. At the time of the call, the stench of frustration oozed from my pores. After years of writing part-time, and submitting literary fiction, I’d decided to go full-throttle. I needed to earn a living, and this is my skill set. That’s my ‘why’. What is she talking about?

I am compelled to write. When I’ve spent days or weeks away from creating stories and crafting personal essays, my insides palpably clench and wither. Writing helps me make sense of my thoughts and the world around me. I write because I can dig down deep and find perfect words to articulate my thoughts. And when my coach broke it down for me, I recognized the huge value of her words.

Frustration in any creative endeavor often stems from vague goals. Taking the time to reflect on the specific “whys” of each career and life decision help us to reframe our current spots. Life as a professional writer is wrought with halted progress, failures, burnout, and unexpected success to keep us in the game.

It’s important to ask ourselves the “why”? Why do we write? Do we write as an enjoyable hobby? Is writing a side hustle? Is writing an intangible need sparking from deep in our marrow? Do we need writing for sustenance and income?

Answering these questions helped me focus my path. It enabled me to understand the fluidity of time investment and measure my professional writing progress. I can change my methods and my direction if I slow down long enough to remember “why” I’m doing this in the first place.

The Deepest Level o’ the “why”

“There is no greater agony than bearing an untold story inside you.” –Maya Angelou, I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings

I’ve known for most of my life that my inherent talents lie in storytelling. I had a published story in 2nd grade (hey, I made $15 on it! I’ve been paid less for far better writing since). And, I don’t shine in other high income-producing ways. When I read “it’s about the love of writing and not about the money” articles, my cheeks get hot. Yes, it’s about the love, but for me, it’s damned well about the money too. This is my chosen profession!

Writing sparks life in my soul. I write because I must. That sounds overdramatic, but it’s also true. When I had the coaching session, I’d reached a “do or die” watershed moment. Professionally, my lighted options had dimmed. Open doors banged shut and deadbolted. Or I’d already walked through them and received all they offered.

Off-platform, I started throwing my writing everywhere, praying it would stick somewhere. I grabbed any opportunity for remote writing, any call for submissions. I applied, I networked, and I pitched and submitted. No one was biting, and my confidence waned.

On platform, I’d emerged from a couple of impressive months. For six months in a row, I doubled my monthly platform income. I’d earned enough to almost qualify as “a living.” I’d gained a decent amount of followers, received accolades and featured pieces from the platform, and doors seemed to swing open. I had a couple of freelance gigs that paid decently, and I decided to take the plunge.

I quit my rancid, shitty, unsustainable job. And then, the doors slammed. My most sustainable freelance gig shriveled up. My platform numbers tanked in ways I hadn’t experienced since my newbie days. I would read the slew of writing articles and feel myself growing bitter. And, I panicked. What was I doing?

On some level, most of us write to reach others. If we didn’t care at all about an audience, we’d simply fill journals. On the platform days when I felt my most fruitless, I had to remember this. On a very basic level, writing to reach an audience — of any size — is part of my “why.”

If we write a piece that bombs, but still gain ten fans who have learned and grown as a direct result of our writing, we have succeeded. But, if our bigger “why” includes reaching a larger audience, and earning money on said piece, perhaps we need to rework it? Rather than throwing our hands up in defeat, we need to critically look at where our published piece needed work — and dissect what we hope to gain from the content we produce.

Evaluate Your Current Spot

At this crappy standstill moment, I figured out each level of my “why.” Yes, I am on platform for the connections and ability to grow my writing portfolio as I grow my writing skills. But, I’ve reached that level. And, as this is a chosen profession for me and not a hobby, I need to wisely choose where I devote my writing time.

There’s a writer here who often pops up in my feed. Every published piece is a rant-y complaint on writing — whether about their lack of success here, or off-platform. Their articles begrudge any writer enjoying success. Their frustration may be valid, but I think it also stems from not knowing what, specifically, they hope to gain from writing on-platform and submitting off. If they were to use their articles in a portfolio, the pieces don’t showcase talent or expertise. A publisher would only see 400 published essays on why all other writers and publishers suck. I get the frustration, but it’s a perpetuating cycle. Continually ranting may feel good for a moment, but only leads to desolation.

If we’re frustrated with our lack of progress, it would help to set specific goals. For example, I set a list of platform accomplishments, and rejoiced as I achieved them. Now, while I still write and publish here, my progress has halted. And so I re-evaluate. Can I still progress? What role should producing content here play in my larger “why”?

How well a piece does is arbitrary — there are myriad writers who take the same steps as the “I Made 8k on One Article. Here’s How” content machines do, and fail to see the same results. If I still hope to earn a sizable portion of my income here, I can produce quality content and publish often, but beyond that, it’s largely out of my control.

If we’re here to enjoy a hobby or a side hustle, that’s okay too. Writing doesn’t have to be our life blood in order to achieve our definition of writing success. But without the “why” of writing, and without the evaluation of how to best achieve our goals, we’ll become like my rant-y writer friend.

Where to go with your why

Once I specifically detailed the reasons behind each of my writing pursuits, I gained a clearer picture of where to invest my time. I recognized that each of my writing endeavors serves a purpose in fulfilling my writing why. But I learned to limit my time in the places that take away my focus. I pour into the avenues that will best serve my personal why, and spend less time on those that won’t.

The road of a professional writer is thick with bramble and runs mostly uphill. The climb will, at times, feel hard and exhausting. But by knowing our reasons behind the pursuit, we can alleviate some of the stress that comes on the climb.