7 writers writing about writing
All writers hit an inspirational slump now and then. But sometimes, all it takes to reignite the spark is to imbibe a little wisdom from the masters of the craft — writers who have faced the same struggles and stumbling blocks, from creative drought to overthinking, and emerged on the other side with some hardwon insights into the often difficult and elusive writing process.
So, whether you’re suffering from a serious case of writer’s block or you’re simply dissatisified with your progress or the current state of your manuscript, who better to learn from than some of the greatest writers to ever put pen to paper?
Let’s pick their brains.
James McBride
on how story is everything
James McBride, author of The Shape of Water and Deacon King Kong, reminds us that the most powerful writing is inextricable from story, and story begins with ideas.
Craft matters, of course. Go forth and unspool your sentences stunningly — paint sensations and conjure whole worlds with your words. Just don’t turn Narcissus and dwell so lovingly and long on each turn of phrase that you sacrifice story in the pursuit of perfection.
Obsess over your ideas instead. Cultivate them with the reverence of a gardener, for they are the subterranean roots from which narrative springs — nourishing, complex, alive. Style without substance is sterile, like a fancy faux bouquet in a shop window — all show and lifeless ornament. A writer’s goal should be loftier than this, and according to McBride, only by first laying a fertile foundation of substantive ideas will the conditions be right for your story to emerge.
So, focus your hard work on what truly matters — nurture your ideas first and let your story follow; the polish and pruning can wait.
2. Flannery O’Connor
on hands in the dust
Flannery O’Connor reminds us to honour the darkness as well as the light. Shadow and dust are in everyone, she argues, and writing isn’t about presenting a pristine, sanitised version of reality; it’s about capturing its grit, its dirt, and its inherent contradictions.
Great fiction demands honesty, and that means wading into the murkier depths of human nature and confronting the darker elements of the world and our selves.
So, are you prepared to get a little dustier?
3. Ray Bradbury
on no more overthinking
Bradbury teaches us a valuable lesson in trusting the creative process and not overthinking your craft.
Let us be clear: this isn’t about being lazy or thoughtless but about stepping aside and allowing your art to come to you. Bradbury’s advice echoes his famous mantra Don’t think and Charles Bukowski’s epitaph: Don’t Try.
Don’t Try doesn’t mean don’t do — Bukowski wasn’t a careless writer, and neither he nor Bradbury advocate sloppiness. They aren’t suggesting that writers bumble through their work without planning or thought. What they mean is: don’t force it, don’t overwork it, and don’t pretend to be someone you’re not.
Overthinking stifles creativity. The best writing isn’t about white knuckling your way down the page with self-conscious effort and gritted teeth. It’s about letting your talents appear, Jedi style.
Bukowski’s wife, Linda, eloquently clarifies the point: “Don’t try. Do. Because if you’re spending your time trying something, you’re not doing it.”
So stop second-guessing yourself. Be patient, clear your mind, and get out of your own way. Then get to work.
4. William Faulkner
on reading your heart out
Every writer is familiar with Faulkner’s advice to read, read, read — if not with the quote itself, then the truth of it. But what writer ever tires of the reminder that their first love, reading, carries such value for honing their craft?
Reading is not only food for the mind and soul; it’s your greatest resource as a writer. When you make time to read, you serve as apprentice to the masters, studying the techniques behind their creative work and staying connected to the very thing that brought you to writing in the first place: a love of language and story.
Read for pleasure, of course, but also be sure to read (and re-read) with an analytical eye. Pay attention to how other authors shape sentences, evoke emotions, and build worlds. Study their tricks of the trade and emulate what you love about their work. Then take these borrowed tools and use what you’ve learned to forge your own path. As Faulkner suggests, you’ll know when you strike gold. And when you haven’t? Well, those windows aren’t just for gazing through wistfully.
5. E.L. Doctorow
on sensory writing
The best stories come trailing mantles of sensory suggestion. They evoke the scents, sounds, hues, and textures of invented worlds, leaving readers with the rich, unshakeable sense of having inhabited those worlds, if only for a time.
E.L. Doctorow understood this literary alchemy well and here reminds us of the power of sensory writing to enrich narrative experience and pull readers deeper into the story. Harnessing sensory detail in your narrative can mean the difference between flat, forgettable text and prose that raises goosebumps. It can mean the difference between “The woods were dark and foreboding” and “Standing indistinguishable in the darkness, the ancient trees whispered malevolent secrets.“
One way to enhance the sensory detail in your is to limit filter words — words like hear, see, think — as these often create unecessary distance between the character and the reader and the moment. Strike out phrases like she felt, I heard, and they watched. Instead of “She felt the summer breeze on her cheek,” write “The summer breeze kissed her cheek.” This simple shift draws your reader directly into the scene and creates a more immediate, visceral connection with the moment.
So, follow the old adage and “show rather than tell:” create (don’t just describe) sensory worlds that invite the reader to experience your the world of your narrative directly. Craft your key descriptive passages with vivid, sensory-rich precision. Don’t overdo it, of course — there’s no need to start writing prose of the purple pursuasion. But do engage your reader’s sense. Sensory writing will allow you to do justice to the world of your story and invite your reader to experience it fully.
6. Hilary Mantel
on dealing with writer’s block
Some liberating advice from master of historical fiction, Hilary Mantel: the next time you're truly, unproductively stuck, don't wall yourself in with the problem. Instead, give your thoughts permission to drift. Take a break and do something that allows your mind to wander — meditate, take a shower, go for a walk, do a crossword puzzle, or create something new that isn’t related to writing.
These day-dreamy interludes aren't procrastination; they open windows in the mind, letting your imagination breathe and your thoughts percolate, creating space for new ideas.
Mantel’s advice to practise patience in the face of writer’s block celebrates the power of free-association and soft, unfocused attention over rigid concentration. The solitary, contemplative activities she recommends are like incubation periods — while your conscious mind rests, your subconscious mind continues to work, quietly untangling creative knots just beyond your immediate perception.
It’s almost guaranteed that when you return to work, you'll discover perspectives previously obscured by being too close to the page. The key is patience: trusting that your mind will continue to work at a problem even when you're not forcing it, and understanding that creative breakthroughs often emerge not through relentless scrutiny, but through gentle, spacious receptivity.
7. Salman Rushdie
on writing authentically
The brilliant Salman Rushdie leaves us with the most vital and difficult lesson of all, a lifetime of work captured in just two simple words: “Learn thyself.”
His advice is not just for memoirists and diarists but offers a fundamental truth for all storytellers: to create authentic, resonant work, it is essential to first turn your eyes inward to learn who you are, what you think, and what you have to say.
The finest writers, Rushdie argues, dare to confront their own deepest motivations, struggles, and fears. They take the time to discover what they need to say to the world.
Notice that Rushdie tells us to “learn” rather than “know.” Self-discovery is not a one and done deal. It’s a continuous journey and it requires work.
Writing is an excellent tool to aid in this self-exploration, of course. Keeping a diary, for instance, is an especially potent means to express and explore the nature of your experiences in this world. But true self-discovery requires more. The task of “learning thyself” means fully engaging with all of life’s infinite variety, not simply observing it from the sidelines.
So, don’t put your life on hold to write. Instead, allow your full and adventurous life inform your grounding as a writer and enrich your storytelling. Self-discovery isn’t navel-gazing — it’s the foundation upon which powerful narratives are built. Gaining this bedrock of deeper self-understanding will not only enhance the authenticity of your narratives but forge a connection with readers who recognise echoes and reflections of their own experiences and emotions within your wor(l)ds.
I hope these inspirational gems serve you well.
Now, go write!
