You Are a Writer
You Are a Writer
(
S
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TART
A
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L
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B
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J
EFF
G
OINS
You Are a Writer (So Start Acting Like One)
/ by Jeff Goins
Copyright © 2012 by Jeff Goins,
Goinswriter.com
. All rights reserved. Published in the United States by
YourDigitalBook.com
. First edition.
Cover design by Erin Marie Johnson,
TheWanderingReader.com
You are welcome to use a short excerpt of this book for review or critique purposes.
For more information and other queries, contact [email protected].
Contents
Foreword
Recently, I was reading a book about writing. In it, the author talked about how she just loved to write.
Teachers told her she was a good writer, and they encouraged her talent. Magazines were eager to publish her work. She was continuously encouraged to write and share, but there was just one problem: She didn’t see herself as a writer.
I’ve heard this kind of story numerous times from other writers: “Everyone encouraged me to write, but I just didn’t think I was good enough.”
That story is not mine. Not exactly.
I was never told I was a “natural” or that I should consider becoming a writer. I liked to write here and there. Mostly poetry — and bad, teenage drama poetry at that.
I often received negative marks on my English papers, and I can’t remember one teacher telling me I was a good writer.
In college, I would regularly watch a paper I was proud of get torn to pieces by my professors. At my first job, I was plagued by the red pen of criticism. It haunted me.
The red pen isn’t bad when it’s followed up with an encouragement, but without it, such a rebuke can be devastating. Those red marks spoke to me loud and clear: I was not a writer. I would cry and brush it off and just accept the fact that I wasn’t a writer, until the day I realized I was one.
Then, I felt like a fraud. I had an audience and was writing, but I wanted to hide. I never felt good enough. What if I was found out and exposed?
But I’ve learned something important about my audience: They think I’m a writer. They believe something about me that I’m still wrestling with. That I can actually do this thing called writing.
It’s taken me four years of blogging, failing, and growing, to be able to say, “I’m a writer.” You know why I say it now? Solely because I do the thing: I write.
I write every day and have the privilege of a platform where people come to read my writing. It’s a gift, this thing we do — this writing — and the fact that people give us their time is a blessing we could never repay.
We have an opportunity. To write words that matter, to change lives with language.
I’m a writer. I bet you are, too.
You have a unique privilege here. Jeff Goins is a day-in, day-out writer. He is diligent and focused and living his dream. He’s a writer, and he knows what it takes to guide you through this journey.
In this book, Jeff will inspire you to claim who you already are. Along the way, he’s going to teach you some super-practical tips on perfecting the craft, expanding your platform, and getting your work published.
This book is a gift. Indulge in it. Then, turn around and give the gift of writing to someone else.
Sarah Mae, Writer
SarahMae.com
Introduction
Hi. My name’s Jeff. And I’m a writer.
Like most writers, I like to write. Not sell myself, or pitch ideas, or wait for publishers to pick me. Just
write
.
I’ve stumbled upon this idea, you see, that writers shouldn’t spend their time doing what they don’t enjoy. Instead, they need to do what they love. They need to write.
Sounds idealistic, right? But I believe this is the key to creating your best work.
So how do you “just write”? I mean, let’s be honest. We’ve all heard how writers need platforms and influence and great marketing, right?
But how do you do that?
That’s what this book is about. It’s about falling back in love with your craft and building a platform, so you don’t have to pitch or sell yourself. Instead, you can focus on what you were made to do: write.
Before we get into that, though, introductions are in order.
Why Listen to Me?
I’m nobody special. Just a writer who got frustrated with a broken system and decided to do something about it.
This idea isn’t new. Lots of writers are building platforms that earn them the chance to deliver a message. They’re focusing on passion, and people are paying attention.
That’s all I’m going to share with you — nothing you couldn’t Google on your own. There
is
, however, something that qualifies me to share this with you, something unique that I am quite familiar with: the frustrations of a writer.
The long nights. The thankless work. The bad pay. I know them all quite well.
But here’s the rub: It doesn’t have to be this way. There is a way out of this “feast or famine” cycle in which most writers find themselves. A way to even break the chains of fame and accolades, to spurn the addiction of an audience and create lasting work. A way for the gatekeepers to come to
you
.
There is a way for you to live what every writer dreams of: never having to write a proposal or query letter again. Never having to pitch, never having to compromise. Wouldn’t that be great?
I’ve learned the secret to writing for the love of it and getting acknowledged for your work.
And I’m going to share it with you.
Writers Are Born, Not Made
Every day, somewhere, a writer is born.
She comes into the world with a destiny: to share her words and proclaim a message. To make a difference.
These words have the power to move and motivate strangers, to shake the earth and rattle the heavens. If only she would share them.
It’s a choice, writing is. One that belongs to you and me. We get to choose it (or not) every single day. So whether or not the world hears your message — whether you leave the impact you were born to make — is entirely up to you.
Scary, isn’t it?
There are, of course, thousands who won’t make this choice. They’ll fail to be who they are and live up to their calling.
We will forever miss their words. And this is tragic.
The Would-Be Poet
Cole Bradburn is a chiropractor who longs to be a poet.
Most days, he works in an office, helping people improve their health. Secretly, though, he longs to make a difference with his words. Some day, he hopes. Maybe. “If I’m lucky.”
It’s not that Cole hates his job. He rather likes it. Which is the whole problem. There’s another life he longs to live, one that feels at odds with the one he’s living.
The world, it seems, is full of people like this. Closet artists and aspiring authors, people longing to do meaningful work that inspires. There’s just one problem: They’re not doing it.
Many of us worry about our lives, whether or not we’ll make an impact. In the late hours or early mornings, we wonder what we’ll be remembered for, what our legacy will be.
While some people are trying to make it through another week, others find themselves succeeding in the wrong things—and despairing as a result.
Make no mistake. All of us at some point wonder if what we’re doing matters.
The answer taunts us. It whispers from afar. Keeps us wondering and waiting. All the while, deep inside our hearts, something dangerous stirs. Something we’re afraid to admit.
Creating a Legacy
Years ago, I was in Spain. As part of a college study abroad program, I was spending the fall semester of my junior year in Seville, a beautiful, historic city full of art and wonder.
On a very ordinary day, my friend Martha and I took a trip to
La Giralda
, the impressive tower adorning the world’s third-largest cathedral in the city. After ascending the massive spiral staircase, we gazed out an opening, overlooking the city. We looked down, watching thousands of souls pass by, from the place where Columbus was allegedly entombed.
As we descended the stairs and exited the tower, Martha posed a thought I’ll never forget: “I wonder what kind of legacy I’ll leave.”
It hung in the air for all to hear.
On the ground floor, we stopped and stood in front of the altar. There we were, surrounded by centuries of art, and Martha wanted to know which of her creations would endure. Would still be standing in another thousand years.
I had to wonder the same.
We are all hoping something we do in this world matters. That what we create will stay with people forever. As Steve Jobs, the infamous founder of Apple Computers, once said, we all long to “put a dent in the universe.” To leave some kind of impact on this ball of dirt.
But most of us, tragically, won’t.
We’re afraid of the cost. Worried we don’t have what it takes. Anxious of the road it takes to get to greatness. So we play it safe and abide by the rules. Before we start, we sabotage our work and subvert our genius.
And how, pray tell, do we do this? With words. Subtle but serious words that kill your passion before you can pursue it. Words like “aspiring” and “wannabe.” Words like “I wish” and “someday.”
There is a solution to this. A simple but hard way of facing your fears and living the dream: Become who you are.
And who
are
you? A writer, if you’ll believe it.
I hope you do, because we need your voice. We need your message.
Until you acknowledge this — that you are a writer — you are depriving the world of a gift it longs for. One that stands the test of time. One that could leave a legacy.
Finding the Dream
“All is not lost, all is not lost / Become who you are / It happens once in a lifetime.”
—SWITCHFOOT
About a year ago, a friend asked me what my dream was, and I told him I didn’t have one. Which was exactly the wrong thing to say.
“That’s too bad,” he said, baiting me. “Because I would’ve said it was to be a writer. I guess I was wrong,” he shrugged, turning away.
I began to steam. Swallowing hard and working up the courage to speak, I finally uttered, “Well, I guess it is. I mean — I suppose I hope to maybe be a writer…
some
day.”
My friend looked at me intently and said without blinking, “Jeff, you don’t have to
want
to be a writer. You
are
a writer. You just need to write.”
Those words struck a chord in me. The next day, I started writing. Without excuse or exception, I began.
And you know what? My friend was right. Pretty soon, I became a writer — at first without realizing it. It began with a few hundred words before the sunrise. But pretty soon, I was publishing articles and producing work on a regular basis that frankly surprised me.
I found my dream not by searching for it, but by submitting to what I had always hoped was true: I was, in fact, a writer. All I had to do was write.
Anyone can do this. All it requires is a simple, scary solution: Believe you already
are
what you want to be. And then start acting like it.
Falling Back in Love with Writing
The first time I fell in love, I was twenty years old. At least, I
thought
I was in love. Little did I know it was quite the opposite.
The relationship was all wrong from Day One. This girl and I broke up and got back together exactly four and a half times — the half being when we started going out again but didn’t tell our friends (because we had already broken up four times).
After the last cycle of breakups and make-ups, we stayed together for a while: a year and a half, to be precise.