My Writer's Manifesto

What we as writers come here to do, finally.

Photo by cottonbro studio

This piece was inspired and fueled by

Holly Whitaker

’s Substack interview:

Dear Writer: Advice on writing like it matters

I sat tight-lipped in the car with my mom the entire drive to campus.

Writing has always been such a foundational part of my life and I’d gotten plenty of praise for it over the years… but never did it occur to me that anyone would actually pay for my writing.

Yet there I was: a 20-year-old getting paid to do something she loved. It was possible, and proved to be pretty freakin’ exhilarating!

But despite my excitement, something told me to keep the news to myself…

But I didn’t.

As the car stopped in front of the building for my first class, I hesitated a moment before whirling around to face my mom to say, “I’m getting paid to write blog posts for a body jewelry site!”

Her response shouldn’t’ve surprised me, but it did.

“'The bird that would soar above the level plain of tradition and prejudice must have strong wings. It is a sad spectacle to see the weaklings bruised, exhausted, fluttering back to earth.” - Mademoiselle Reisz, The Awakening

I never felt so seen as I did when I read those words back in my 12th grade honors English class.

With high school coming to an end, there was always so much pressure pushed on you to recognize what you needed to be doing for the rest of your life. And if not that, then to make sure you were going down the “right” (aka: non-risky) path.

And by that time, I knew I was meant for a life that would fufill me, worry and concern others, and hurt no one in the process.

But I didn’t know how to confidently go down my own path in life.

Up to that point, I had been tugged, pulled, shaped, and molded into what others wanted me to be in order to have a societally palatable identity, and had been shut down time and time again if I ever tried to stray from that–whether out of love or pure projection.

I had become the baby elephant in the metaphor about not knowing your own power: tied to one place by a small post in the ground unable to escape, and after trying so long I no longer think I’ll ever be able to be free and give up entirely.

Even when I became too big to be held back by anything around me, I no longer believed it.

It’s been a journey, but I’ve broken free from so. much. of what held me back from pursuing my version of a happy life.

Aside from shaving my head and stretching my ears (two of the biggest war-starters within my family), I’ve finally embraced prioritizing the type of writing I want to do.

I’ve doubted my potential for too long, never truly giving myself the time and grace to see whether or not I truly can flourish doing what I love.

So here I am!

I’ve said it many times before and I’ll say it again: I’ve noticed for years that I’d see YouTubers speak on their love of video. How they created videos before they could walk and did it before they became a paid YouTuber because of that love.

And us writers are exactly the same! We’re still here. We still exist. We have the same type of hardcore love for our craft as YouTubers have for theirs.

Overtime though, we’ve come to know and believe the narrative that “video is king” and the only way to grow a community and income now-a-days.

But it’s simply not true. I’m embracing that now as I finally move forward with showing up as the type of writer I want to be.

When we’re children, we freely do what we like. It’s usually external influences that make us stray from what we actually enjoy.

I feel the same happened to my writing practice the older I got.

As a child, I’d use notebooks to write stories with illustrations (I always was into anthropomorphism).

I’d attempt to read 3 or more books at a time in elementary school. I’d get so excited for the Summer Reading Program every year at the library, and would participate in Pizza Hut’s Book It any chance I got.

Friends, family, teachers, professors, and acquaintances would always praise my writing and its style, but even so, I doubted my ability to ever be good enough to make any money from it–let alone a livable wage. 

It took some time, but I now believe my dreams matter. My happiness and joy is a top priority.

I want nothing more than to write what I desire to after nearly a decade of training myself to write for algorithms and believing the narrative that value only comes from direct transactional writing.

But even so, it’s an honor and my pleasure to prioritize crafting words in a way that make you want to read whatever I write.

I want to grow my skill of writing words that can be impactful, entertaining, reflective, or fun for those who read them.

I want to be so good at my craft, that you joyfully get swept away in my words and excitedly use them as an escape when they’re published.

And it’s my pleasure to continue down this path for as long as this lifetime allows it.

If you made it to the bottom of this piece, thank you.

Every single type of support–whether monetary, words of encouragement, or even sharing my words with someone you think would enjoy them–really does give me butterflies!

See you super soon, and again, thanks for being here.