Reflections on Writing
Hi! It’s me again.
This time, it’s not a short story or a book review but a simple reflection about my writing. Finishing the latest story has pushed me to sit down and think a little about the stuff I’ve written so I can feel excited about what’s to come! This reflection also serves as a “freshman piece” marking my growth as a part-time writer.
Below are some points I’ve written down after hours of silent reflection:
1. You don’t have to use flowery language to be a good writer.
This, I believe, applies not just to me but to every aspiring writer out there who is still trying to find their own style.
I speak from personal experience, but I always struggle to remember and use “big words” in a natural way in my writing. As a result, when I try to sound poetic, my writing sometimes comes out very forced and awkward-sounding. (Refer to my IG book reviews to see how — some of them are pretty cringeworthy to me.) This has always annoyed me, because many poetic writers I’ve read have touched me with their words, and I’ve wanted to be like them for the longest time. When I read stories with long, rolling, beautiful sentences, I always feel a sharp twinge of envy somewhere in my heart.
Recently I realised, however, that simple sentences can also deliver the same impact, if not more. Some authors that come to mind are: Sally Rooney, Sayaka Murata, Philip K. Dick, and of course, Haruki Murakami. In particular, I felt the emotional impact just a few days ago when reading Iain Reid’s work , I’m Thinking of Ending Things, a psychological thriller which has been made into a mind-bending film by award-winning director Charlie Kaufman. In the book, Iain does not sprinkle “big words” where they are not needed. His writing feels to me very purposeful, and his literary flair is still evident in the way he structures and builds palpable suspense throughout the story. Readers will not get thrown off by sudden convoluted sentences in the midst of an emotional climax.
Just as there are tons of writers out there who can write beautiful, poetic prose, there are also countless writers who subvert the generalised expectations of “good writing” altogether, churning out stories that have and will continue to touch the hearts of many in its pure, simple form.
And that’s what I aspire to do.
2. You are fluid. Your writing will be fluid.
Words come to me naturally sometimes. On lucky days, I can write 1000 words in under an hour. On bad days, words don’t flow to me no matter how hard I try.
And it’s not just my moments of inspiration that are fluid. My writing style also ebbs and flows according to my mood. I haven’t figured out my “optimum” work hours for writing yet, but maybe that’s because I don’t have set hours that will definitely work for me. For my first story, I wrote overnight and only stopped at 7am. I then spent the next few days reading the story again and again, making edits in every paragraph. For my second story, I wrote non-stop from 9am to 10pm and finished it without editing much.
I have always relied on my inspiration to drive me, which is a method that is extremely unpredictable and does not ensure quality writing every single time. For the longest time, I thought it was weird that I could only depend on my mood to write something I might be satisfied with. This thought was also exacerbated by examples of a more disciplined approach adopted by some writers I admire.
While writing should not feel like a chore, being more disciplined about it would definitely help. This means just spending some time jotting down ideas or sentences when they come — and they don’t have to sound great at all. However, setting a daily quota and forcing yourself to write something will never work. I think it’s important to recognise that good ideas need to start somewhere, but that somewhere cannot come from a forced place.
Remember, you are fluid.
3. You’re writing. That’s good enough.
It’s extremely normal to feel embarrassed about your first piece(s) of writing. Even literary star Haruki Murakami is not proud of his first two novels, Hear the Wind Sing and Pinball, 1973. However, as a Murakami fan myself, reading his first works was surprisingly an enjoyable and humbling experience. Comparing his novels across the years gave me a chance to see his tremendous growth from an ordinary writer to a best-selling author loved by millions worldwide.
Like Murakami, I’m not proud of my first story. Reading it now, I do not like how the sentences sound in my head, or the way they connect with each other. I’ve had to stop myself from editing it multiple times—months after publishing. It’s also frustrating, because I still love the idea behind that story, but it seems a pity that my writing could not match up in strength.
Having said that, I actually don’t think there’s anything wrong with feeling embarrassed or frustrated at all. In fact, feeling this way is generally a good sign that you have matured as a writer. If you’re able to see flaws in your initial writing and note down points for improvement, then it’s a pretty good indication that your skills have gone up a notch (or two) since then.
At the end of the day, despite the occasional disappointment or frustration, you’re still writing — and that’s good enough for now.
Concluding Note
Just like cooking, writing is a skill that requires practice. You can’t become good at it simply by thinking about sentences in your head all day — we already do that all the time. It’s definitely tempting to want to “save up” your good ideas for when your writing gets better, but that’s never going to happen if you don’t give yourself the chance to practise. I wouldn’t be here writing this if I never started writing in the first place, would I?
Don’t think, just write.
This is my personal reflection on writing. You can come talk to me about your writing. Or mine. I’m always happy to talk about writing.
Till the next time!
