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What I’ve Learned as a Writer
By Leo Babauta

I’ve been a professional writer since I was 17: so nearly 24 years now. I’ve made my living with words, and have written a lot of them — more than 10 million (though many of them were duplicates).

That means I’ve made a ton of errors. Lots of typos. Lots of bad writing.

Being a writer means I’ve failed a lot, and learned a few things in the process.

Now, some of you may be aspiring writers (or writers looking for inspiration from a colleague). Others might not ever want to be a writer, but you should still care about writing. I’ll tell you why: it’s an incredible tool for learning about yourself. And if you’re an effective writer, you’re an effective communicator, thinker, salesperson, businessperson, persuader.

So for anyone interested in writing, I’d love to share what I’ve learned so far.

    Write every **** day. Yes, even weekends. Yes, even when you’re busy with other crap. Each day I write a blog post, an article for Sea Change, part of my new book, or perhaps part of a novel. If I don’t have enough to write every day, I start a new writing project. I write at least 1,000 words a day, but you don’t have to write that much. Writing daily makes it a routine thing, so you never have to think about it. You just do it. It gets much easier, less intimidating. You get better at it. It’s like talking with a friend: just how you express yourself.
    Create a blog if you don’t have one. Whether or not you’re a writer, you should have a blog. Why? Because it’s a great way to reach an audience, to practice writing on a daily basis, to reflect on what you’ve been learning, to share that with others so they might benefit, to engage in a wider conversation, to learn about yourself. Anyone who wants to learn about themselves should have a blog. (Protip: Try Sett to start a blog — it’s a great way to grow an audience and community.)
    Write plainly. I think this is from Strunk & White, but it works well for me. I write in plain language, leaving the flowery stuff for others. Academic writing is the worst — it’s so stilted no one wants to read it unless they want to show others how smart they are. Technical jargon, business-speak, pretentious vocabulary, insider acronyms … none of them have any place in communicating with your fellow human beings. Only use those things if you want to hide the fact that you don’t know what you’re talking about.
    Don’t write just to hear yourself talk. Lots of people like to go on and on about themselves and their lives, but readers don’t come for that. Readers come for their own purposes. You’re reading this to get ideas for yourself as a writer, not to hear the life story of Leo the amazing writer in technicolor detail. Now, you can tell stories about yourself if they’re vividly entertaining or inspirational or really instructive. But have a purpose, and be sure you’re meeting that purpose. Don’t just ramble.
    Nearly everything can be shortened. Including this post, of course. I could probably cut 25% of this post and get away with it (I’ve already cut 25%). Go through your sentences and ask: is this necessary? What purpose does it serve? How would this read without it? And if you can, drop it. It makes your work more readable, clearer.
    Fear stops most potential writers. Most people don’t write (publicly at least) because they’re afraid their writing will ****. Well, it will. Everyone ***** at first. You don’t get better at something by sitting on your hands. **** it up, put yourself out there. You won’t have many readers at first, when you ****, but as your audience grows so will your skills.
    Read regularly for inspiration. I might write more than 1,000 words a day, but I read 10 times that. I read books and (online) magazines and blogs and more. Reading gives me ideas, shows me better ways to write, gives me access to the best teachers in my craft (amazing writers).
    Procrastination is your friend. Every writer lives daily with procrastination. If you allow yourself to feel guilty about that, then you’ll feel bad about yourself as a writer. Instead, embrace your procrastination as a friend, enjoy it … and then ask the friend to leave for awhile so you can get your work done. No friend should monopolize all your time. Get your writing done, then invite the friend back when you have free time.
    Have people expect your writing. This is another reason blogs are fantastic: if you build up an audience, you feel the pressure of their expectations. This pressure is a good thing — it keeps procrastination from taking over your life. You know the audience expects you to write, so you get off your **** and you do it. Before I had a blog, my editors were the people expecting my writing.
    Email is an excuse. We often go to check email because it feels productive (and it can be), but it’s easy to use that as a way to put off the writing. Honestly, if you close your email for a couple hours, nothing bad will happen. Close it, close everything else, and get to writing. Your email will be waiting for you when you’re done.
    Writing tools don’t matter. Most people tinker with their writing tools, trying to find the perfect system. ***** that. You can write with anything, as long as you have a keyboard. Yes, I much prefer typing to writing by hand, because I’m much faster at typing. I can get the words out closer to the speed of my thinking. But what writing program I use is irrelevant: I write in TextEdit, Sublime Text, Ommwriter, Byword, Notational Velocity, in the WordPress or Sett editor in the browser, in Google Docs. Just open up a new document and start writing.
    Jealousy is idiotic. Writers can often be insecure types — perhaps it’s a byproduct of putting your soul out in the world for all to criticize. So they’re often jealous of the success of other writers. That’s a complete waste of time and energy. It does you no good as a writer. Instead, learn from the success of others, see what’s good about you, and merge the two. Be happy for people. It’ll make you happier too.
    Writing can change lives. When I publish a post, I hope it’ll be of use to someone. But the responses I get are often incredible — people tell me how much a post or my blog in general has changed their lives. I’m blown away by this. When you put something with good intention out in the world, you have no idea what kind of impact it might have on others. It might do nothing, but it could have a profound effect on someone’s life. That’s truly powerful. That’s truly a reason to get up and write.

And one thing I’ve learned, above all, is this: the life that my writing has changed more than any other is my own. Writing for you has changed me, in ways I am only beginning to grasp. In wonderful, crazy, lift-you-off-the-ground kind of ways. And that makes me want to do it forever.
Mike Essig Jan 2017
an anarchist’s style guide...


Poems are liquid prose. Prose insists. Poems plead.
Kale tastes best in darkness. Residue of texture.
Texture makes the text. Don’t dress it up.
I is romantic vestige. Deport it. Feel the freedom.
Irony is literate decadence. Stick to sarcasm. Common voice.
Drumbeat of iambs in veins. Just the facts, Ma’am.
Edgy as opposed to hard. Violent refusal to respond.
Adjectives limited. Adverbs useless. Nouns just sit.
Ah, but verbs. Verbs as we are. *We are verbs.
Creating.
Other parts, only utilitarian. Sequence of composition.
Words in a row marching like soldiers to certain death.
Metaphors compressed as diamonds. Regal and rusted.
The clock’s face reveals nothing. Blank chronology.
Humor provides shelter. Lear on the moor. Fool.
Lines in a stanza remain lines. Mere artifice.
Love is in and out of every door. Root of desire.
Say what you must as you must. Shout if you must.
Take whatever you like. Make it new. Make it new.
Feel noose around neck. Have the last word. Anyway.
Though a wimpy, tiny, and puny
(smaller than a breadbox) Ogre
whereat my portable minuscule
fingerhut size adobe abode ex
posed to Strunk and White raw
grammatical elements of style,

I counted Flip (Wilsonian) view,
to camouflage myself anytime
and anywhere as significant add
vantages. The obvious down side
(i.e. severe limitations to pull off

major coup) forced me to axe
paunches pilot while taking a chopper
if I van nah miniaturize daring deed
(done dirt cheap) reconfigured,

retouched, recorded by Das scribe
named Magnum Opus. Indeed,
this chance to golong (equivalent
of Olympic gold) foretold peering
into granule size barren crystal ball.
Preliminary steps undertaken

to pull off impossible mission;
mo' difficult than a blind man
taking eighty steps to Honah
infiltrating 70+ shades of gray area

prime Donald Trump real estate.
A priority prevailed to act on
the QT (q-tip) lest cover get blown,
and suspicious communique encrypted
to gal lobe trotting henchmen.
Urgency spurred daring deed,
cuz targeted subject in question

(majority population counted
as debouched, delirious, and
demonstrably dangerous
demagogue, in short a "FAKE"
president! Security details
(like stray cats on the prowl),

could sniff out ploy to re
program depraved, deranged,
and detached supposed Master
at helm. His audacity, effrontery,
and isolationist iffy ideology
placed him squarely as half baked
cookie monstrosity against

United States Commander in Chief.
First order of business necessitated
tranquilizing this doughty, haughty
enemy of the Lumpenproletariat!

Renown chemist friends of mine
(actually War tin buddies) alias
Diet Coke and/or Diet Pepsi
secured an ampule Taj Mahal

~ circa 1631vintage. One ampule
viz pill could knock out a giant –
sans, Jack and the beanstalk fame.
No ifs, and or bots, the secret
got pulled off without spilling

figurative (jelly) beans. Once
inside auditory labyrinth, I
immediately noticed striking
deus ex machina ***** riot ting
resemblance to microscopic cave.
A thick baad *** sieve sludge
of cerumen sis tah

(waxy substance) deaf finitely
posed an initial dilemma,
which audio slave solution
entailed collaboration to build
a toothpick fence. Pensiveness

unexpectedly found subject
reflexively scratching, poking,
and jabbing inadvertently
finding me toward ground zero.
CH Gorrie Feb 2015
All hail Strunk and White, supreme law on Word.
If I don't act in accordance with them
I'll be casted as the fool on a whim:
Idiosyncrasies stamped out by a herd.
Though aye haint no athlete, nor a cosmopolitan mwm,
this bloke dislikes capricious adrenaline rush
to prove without a doubt
at least to whomever announced
to display eye popping, mouth watering,

nose twitching a notch above chattering class,
I could never be find klieg lights shone on me,
cuz this baby boomer favor modesty,
and allow, enable and provide unconditional
acceptance and/or sir render if a verbal tete a

tete sparring rapport, quintessentially predicating,
predicting, presaging petsmart outstanding native
manhood lesson kooky, jousting insignificant, harmony,
gaiety, favorability, earnestly draws character,
basically badass and altruistic anatomical acer.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Ah, I mean to narrow scope of poetic theme
so pardon ma roundabout circular modus operandi
shifting intent to discuss five overlapping rings
specifically, yet fern *** part tickler rhyme nor reason

those trademark circular strunk and white elements
of harried styled, swiftly tailored symbols
decreeing a fresh batch of Olympiads, ought
to be preceded via a topnotch Gumby like
rubbery sprite, who gets trotted out as a nimble

acrobat (gender impossible to determine based
upon Pygmy size physique performing her/his
balancing act (while avast crowd peers thru binoculars)
atop an equestrian (coincidentally
enough named Pokey), kooly juggling,

illustionistically hefty, generally fiery essentially
discobulous, cyclical, basically sans,
non verbal body language announcing
human fetes defying the laws of physics, which
global contest occurs every two years i.e. biennial

versus biannual, which means twice a year.
The rings are five interlocking rings, colored
blue, yellow, black, green and red on white field,
known as the "Olympic rings". The symbol
page number two:

originally designed in 1912 by Baron Pierre
de Coubertin, co-founder of modern
Olympic Games. Between subsequent meetups
held at metropolis when elected doth fast-track
this mission (rendering impossible much needed

infrastructure repairs, but vying to beautify a city
based on bids, or maybe drawing straws)
exerts priority, thus every laborer recruited
to emulsify, fortify, glorify...

whatever sainted urban jungle
testing physical mettle asper whatever sport
competitors vie to pit their burnished brawn, deft
flourish heaving jellied jambalaya limber muscles
opportunistically quite supremely ultimately

winning hearts and minds of spectators until
next candidate performs his/her slack jaw
jack draw, jumbo popcorn filled bowl dropping,
nonpareil, eye popping, routine,

and so on...an attempt for a ticket holder
to merely stand upright gets tripped with
mindscape filled to the point of saturation
with supra hue man dare devilish
whirling dervish performances.

Not one of these contenders for top prizes
can be modest, yet here such narcissism
expected, when the crème de la crème
of a well synchronized machine of finely tuned
glass shattering aria re: symphony for
skeletal system, musculature, and love of fitness

presents such a supremely sumptuously
striated squared specimen on the world
wide webbed stage. Aside from vicariously
exalting in the trials and errors of first one,
then the retinue of absolute breathtaking
delight, the ordinary conflicts (between

one warring internecine faction and another
mortal enemy) get suspended for duration
of these celebrations. A fanatic, generic,
heuristic, intrinsic kinetic potential

unleashed from a select body of youths,
young fluid adults athwart cusp and prime of life
who spent majority of their brief lives
(since most entrants seem to retain
a faint residue of childhood).
However many weeks encompasses
the planet agog with exemplars

pushing thee enveloped limitations
built or evolved (whatever your belief)
within **** Sapiens, a collective unified
adulation, vocalization wows loudly, thence echoing
like an Earthly explosive shot fired across beaming berth
divine expression qua visual fancy feast.

That infinitesimal fragment of time
(when laying down
of a bomb bin nub bull arms occurs) proves
smarmy, snooty, ******
abuse, brutality, cruelty...heaped

upon innocent creatures great lumbering sized
or microscopically small magically
able to mastering purposefulness,

analogous like idealistic storybook fable
diversity tis viable to adopt care and
concern for others. No matter this
blatant claim defies everyday gruesome,
horrible, intolerable jawboning,

knifing, mauling, naysaying, overtly
punishing, quivering ******, sodomizing,
terrorizing, undertaking vile waterboarding,
yielding zero, zilch, zip loosening restraint
despite the agonizingly beseeching,

cloyingly desperate, emphatically feeble,
gasping helplessly, indignantly jeered,
kicked, lambasted, molested, needled,
paddled, quickened recipe per

phlegm drum manic spewing, tasering,
ultimately violently whipped, which
contrary behavior vis a vis survival

of baseless, damndest, foremost, hated
jackal lashing, narcissistically, polluting
re: slaughtering until vilest wickedest
ignoble yearning zero sum throw win game crowned
most nasty beast that e'er walked this terra firmae.
this poetic prologue
a feeble exercise
to encapsulate common
place frustration
experienced by

this fledgling author.
yukon determine verdict
once ye peruse short
spurious poem
below decks
will consume scant minutes.

hoop fully byte size
format asper reflections
bing hobbled akin twin
frustrated cobbler
with nary a sole

to shoe healing power
of summoning
creativity words
stitched together
trying ma darnedest
to capture
fleeting idea.
filed within memory banks

jagged shoals of rock
illusory images frieze
leitmotif cerebral pad lock
forcing together mis
matched metaphors
or what not ad hoc

there a young lad skipping
with his lass in colorful frock
passing fanciful day dream
lazing about on the dock
while hands of time tick
on the clock

sober reality check tears me away
from idyllic distractions
rearing head of immense
frightful mental block
a bygone student of Antioch.

now an epilogue and expansion
of given thesis sans above premise.
i now oblige objective at hand,
and resume con sue mating

avant garde fashion express
sing difficulty for me
to seal craft building blocks
of english language in
a fitting manner does justice,

and gives liberty to leap
ping lizard like thoughts
that dart to and fro
hither and yon within my mind.

rather than censor or edit,
I pour out at rapid fire rate
the notions that flit thru
me noggin staring at black

strunk white screen. some
times eyes remain closed
to help initiate process
to summon forth this, that
or another barely
perceptible concept.

the task less difficult
when topic provided
happens to be the case
with self imposed

approximately five ***
dread word epistle,
which preconceived
subject automatically

narrows focus into
figurative box.
when provided  
with specified issue,
the effort arduous
to gather plethora

of disparate points
indicating directions
diatribe in question could shift.
any one of these paths
(if not most) take down  
moribund dead end

with only infinite abyss
as an escape. countless trials
and errors find exploration
(to state near physical exhaustion)
where each bramble strewn route

only finds this pensive fellow hopelessly
and inextricably entangled within his
own thicket of unprintable verbiage.
would you believe and/
or accept, that ah aha
eureka moment arises

(and vacuum powerfully
***** up every ounce
of concentration)
most unexpectedly
and inconveniently

per on the toilet,
when paragraphs
nearly tumble pell mell
of their accord

(defying laws
of physics) from
tips of these fingers
or bowels of this simian.

a frantic attempt finds
zealous effort to tap
unstoppable barrage
barreling forth

from fount of mother
lode, than finds
slightest distraction
(such as a delivery
of parcel, tornado,
cosmic catastrophe,

et cetera) to lose precious spider
thin thread forever
(at the eleventh hour)
lost along vast vista
abandoned like useless
obsolete materiel.

even upon minutes scrutinizing
satisfactory completion
sans lengthy manuscript,
an unbiased opinion

of displeasure frequently
takes place finds disappoint
ment, and these myopic eyes
blink and stare once again
at white washed computer screen.
ever since **** Sapiens didst
   insinuate, elbow and barge
humanity at the mercy sans, small, medium
   (Strunk and White) elemental forces at large
which indiscriminate merciless whims extant
ask Homer Simpson or Marge
g'head and even tap
   a local, county, or state Sarge

gent on the shoulder, cuz
   he or she would moost likely agree
that this Month (predicated
   on The Gregorian calendar me

didst axe Mister Google, 
   (who **** courtesy enough prithee)
to validate premise about 
   when Time Construct came a boot re:

(named after Pope Gregory XIII, who 
   introduced it in October fifteen eighty two)
from that date to present, 
   the most widely ant queue

    test used civil calendar, and when brand new
(involved approximately 0.002% correction knew
   this margin of error in length 
   of Julian calendar year) allowing hue

man accurate measurement passage 
   as days, weeks, months...elapsed 
   unimportant to the average Joe
(not quite five hundred years ago) 
   returning home on his emu
no matter the gender named Matthew

cuz this flightless fast-running bird dinned,
poe whit lorry yet (wannabe) 
   nose tubby directed related door sill finned
dog gone harassed primate hoo haint sinned
graced with sir name Harris, 
   and gladly boasts being full of wind

which trivia finds this barred bard 
 (as iz his usual wont 
   i.e. digress sing 
   from primary col lord thread)

from initial intent, vis a vis, 
   how all life forms stretching 
   within the bounds of quisling
to an affable, convivial, and filial King
Crimson (reddit in the face), 

yet knew everything like kin ace
that comprised tome base 
comprise zing knowledge booking (to chase
winter blues) at getaway grace

fully at Bedrock Cave 
   with proprietors of said place 
Barney Rubble and Fred Flintstone 
   offered ample space
to discuss preparations to cope 
   with onset of infrequent roaring blizzard 
   (via ominous clouds that didst trace)

plus minimizing setbacks affecting 
   the then most advanced stone age 
during wrathful outbursts from beige
flesh toned gabbing Goddess, 

   whose gentle giantess goodness, 
   one could gauge
which genteel manners evident 
   also asper her page

gave inside information, 
   how to batten down hatches
   while tethered like a puppet 
   on the then much younger global stage.
dating back circa: Age of computer antiquity
mine signature worthless gibberish
found Earthling dumbfounded
for further waste of time inquire
about trivial details constituting
more'n six electronic new pages
the following an excerpt from book of
Matthew Scott Harris.

Courtesy of AskJeeves,
and special acknowledgement
to Google search algorithm, this anachronistic
Travelocity bing Ray Orbitz son cent
reincarnate with good n Plenti
of LegalZoom dost Lyft
me Wii Progressive poise, an are dent
lee boosts bonhomie duty
BuzzFeed ding on Fancy Feast

honesty coalesces into Elements
of style – suitable
to Strunk n White accolade gent
he blogs a fictitious vignette
taking add Vonage of Samsung
a viz zit from Clark Kent
one kickstarter for
incredible computer software programs
and sturdy Mainframe he kin lent.

Particular pattering patois,
prompts pathetic ploy
per poetic provenance readers
attempt to plow headstrong
into skein of lettered litter thicket
of Vanity Fair verbiage,
y’all count Outlook incorporating
what he doth **** sitter
tubby hottest n coolest
common nanobots
pinging, skittering n thriving
within binary bitmap
digital boot not embittered, nor a quitter
an unseen electronic/
microscopic realm Weeknd
snapchat tweet and twitter.

Countless applications
constitutes information superhighway
(thanx Al Gore), this computer addict
plucked from wing

of broken kin prayer
while Samsung and Delilah -
hiz significant thing
hearty soulful byte size flickr
patented technological silent ringtone
signaling data communications packets
fueling hand held devices did ping.

Many automatic, cryptic,
esoteric, generic, intrinsic…et cetera
fiber optic pulsating stupefying vector
criss crossing, twas impossible
twin selection process
in virtual reality sector
which smattering of whatsapp
countless twenty first century human projector,
where computer applications anachronistically
don ensemble epistle
as mull logical nectar
I Trump petsmart
word smith re: scrivener effecter.

Shiloh Golong and describe,
which Apple of my eye
(amidst all the Core ****
sans millions of equally omitted,
yet equally appealing, enlivening,
incorporating, outsourcing Wans
et cetera populate virtual reality)
resonated within
Chrome moe so mull Bing vans?

Skype n Angry Bird If ya need
to take Avast break
please Compaq to this
Dell a where Century21,
Foursquare Hotmail seeks Joyus mirth
from Instagram Pennsylvania,
who (despite eternal Allianz
with Uber youth)
witnessed The Birth of Cosmos -
hiss story give or take
a million years, I remember
literate Geico caveman
discovering Victoria’s Secret
how Kindle took a Tumblr,
when Tinder lit Circuit City gone amiss!

This Earthlinked, Googly eyed
(brown), Hotmail wannabe
paperback writer
(pseudonym name Page Turner)
dwells in Bell Atlantic
thinking about notions as:
Airgas, Comcast, Excelon…. Verizon
plus responding to classified advertisements
x spearmint ting feigning myself
tubby Youtube star bachelor
hoop ping to dance with female stars
accidently twerk ma Sovereign
Palm Pilot size rear!
Reprieve from damp,
     and rainy, or sultry weather,
     I schlepped a
     light weight Shaker
made folding chair
     out upon Jim Baker
Nabor's green acre
and once enthroned

     as a " FAKE FAKIR"
in rubberized web
     bing (seam ming lee
     lapis lazuli trimmed),
     this body of mine
     lapsed into Quaker
state averse to focus attention,
     gnome hatter eyes fixedly glute

to the pages, sans
     newsworthy printed material,
     to apprise and jute
keeping me astute
with major local and global
     journalistic burning hotspots
     whatsapp pining (the
     most recent issue Newt

about Gingrich commendable
     TIME magazine), boot
with rather light
     breeze tolerably blowing
temperate, moderate air currents
     enveloping this here ole coot,
who aint got Hoot
tee and the Blowfish, nor toot

from no mo' magic flute,
thus by natural
     dint cocked mean
looking head (you figure out
     which one) between
the devil and the
     deep blue seas tureen,
which gaze extended clean

skyward to cerulean vault
populated with strunk
     and white tufts
in stark contrast did lean
in to the verdant rich green
sward abuzz within
     invisible micro ecosystems
niched and stitched by Jean

E. Huss flora Dean
and endearing fauna
     minted quartered gene,
which hubbub of variegated
organisms sound
     accompanied motley crue
     of each scudding soundcloud
shape shifting bill

low whee near weightless
     (cottony ma their) keen
stern preachily mass stir,
     then puff (like
     a magic dragon),
     no more easily seen.

— The End —