Or dare to believe
It can be hard to call yourself a successful writer when you don’t feel like you’ve done much.
When you don’t write every day. When you don’t publish your book in a year. When it takes half your life to finish your first novel.
But none of these things are indicators of your success.
None of them. You are exactly where you need to be.
That can be hard to believe, so if you need more proof, here’s 14 signs you’re way more successful than you think:
You’re less ugly than you used to be
“The worst loneliness is to not be comfortable with yourself.” — Mark Twain
You’ve stopped telling yourself you’re a hideous, untalented, unproductive loser when you don’t write every day. Instead, you forgive yourself.
“I’ll write tomorrow” has replaced “I’ll never be a writer.”
So, if you don’t write every day — and you feel great about yourself regardless — you’re doing better than you think.
You’ve drop-kicked one baby bird out the nest
Small celestials are the makers of galaxies. And so are small braveries when you’re learning to doubt yourself less.
Whether you’ve published a tweet, a short story, a poem, or a book, just offering your words to the world proves you’re heading for greatness.
Every time you publish, you let the world see a little more of your inner self.
You consume others’ brains
“Live as if you were to die tomorrow. Learn as if you were to live forever.” ― Mahatma Gandhi
If you set aside some of your precious minutes to learn how to write better, you’re well ahead of where you think you are.
We aren’t born knowing how to write, so choosing to sharpen your pencil is a helluva sign you’re a successful writer.
Whether you listen to podcasts, audiobooks, or meticulously pore through textbooks, you are becoming the writer you always could be.
Here’s a few recommendations to help you create more:
Willliam Strunk Jr. and E.B. White’s “Elements of Style”
Joanna Penn’s “How to Market a Book”
Your mind’s like an infant
The greatest sign of a great writer is your ability to be a beginner. To remain open to change. You can never know everything, no matter how many years you’ve been writing or editing.
And to know that you don’t know shows you’re much further along than you think.
It takes humility and bravery to admit ignorance.
Your love of looking stupid or childish or uninformed is a sign that you’re committed to becoming a better writer.
So if you become afraid to wonder, remember that the worst writers are 1000% sure they have no questions.
You turn bad habits inside out
“The truth is, you don’t break a bad habit; you replace it with a good one.” — Denis Waitley
Starting too many of your sentences with the same pronoun, not varying your sentence lengths, putting tons of clichés in your writing.
Did you have one of these bad writing habits?
Something else? What was it?
Write it down.
Then, focus on the words “did” and “was.” They’re important. You used to have a bad writing habit until you decided to learn a better way.
Leaned into it. Adopted it.
You chose to change.
And your willingness to rid yourself of bad writing habits is undeniable proof you’re a successful writer.
No bestselling work needed.
You aim for the best
There’s a way to do things, and there’s a better way to do things.
If you spend time learning to speed up your website, make your blog posts SEO-friendly, color-code your manuscript, create a system to publish faster, or join an accountability group, you’ve leveled up without realizing it.
All of these tiny, insignificant-seeming changes are gold pebbles in your pockets.
You’ve narrowed your vision
Some of us may be pantsers, but we have an overarching vision or theme for our work.
If you’ve spent time refining your vision or obsessing over the themes or messages, you’re knocking those invisible doors down and stepping through to the next room.
Taking the time to plan — even on the highest of levels — is a fantastic sign you’re rockin’ it.
You write shitty first drafts
“Anything worth doing well is worth doing poorly at first.” — Ray Congdon
Ah, the shitty first draft. Everyone’s always screaming about doing it, but it’s tons harder than it looks until you’re ready to let go.
Of your need for perfection.
Of your fear of rejection.
When you write a shitty, typo-filled, plot hole-suffering first draft, you start rocketing toward success. Because making messes gives you the freedom to help more people.
I’m not great at this yet, but I’m working on continuous typing. No matter what, just keep typing. And skim more.
You can see the gold linings
Negative reviews can be a heart killer. But even the rudest, most probably-never-wrote-one-word-but-has-the-nerve-to-tear-apart-my-book assholes make a good point, sometimes.
When you reach your next mountaintop, you can see that reviews aren’t a reflection of you. They’re someone’s opinions.
But that doesn’t mean they can’t be helpful. Some of them are a true reflection of weaknesses in your writing.
Readers know what they like, and many can tell if parts of your story aren’t working.
So, if someone took the time to write you a manifesto — and they weren’t just talking junk — they may have left you some gems.
You don’t get Alice in Wonderland lost
Even though you have a vision for your work, you may struggle to sort through the feedback.
Does this change fit in with the bigger story?
Should I add this to my character’s personality?
Huh? She likes this part, but he hates it. What to do?
As you grow into your older writerly self, you learn to sort through the feedback and be confident rejecting or accepting.
You get more comfortable with your beta readers’ opinions, knowing that one person will hate a scene and another person will love that same scene.
For the same reasons!
When you’re able to remember the story is yours, be confident in what should stay, and tap into your deeper reasoning for writing what you wrote, you’ve bested another rung of success.
You fired your muse
Here’s the truth: your muse either doesn’t exist, or they’re lazy.
They don’t enjoy having to start fires to get you going. In fact, they’re afraid of fire. So, forget about them, and get yourself a system.
If you have any routine for your writing, you’re on the path to success.
This may not look like writing every day, but it could include a certain place or time, a pre-writing ritual, or a specific word or scene count goal for the day.
Whatever it is, make it work for you.
When you stop looking for your muse, your motivation, or your willpower to get the writing done — and just write — you’ve jumped tons of steps ahead.
A tip: Ayodeji Awosika’s system — write at the same place, at the same time, and for the same duration — works for me. Maybe it’ll help you.
You host typos and placeholders parties
There’s a typo in htis sentence.
If you have “TK” and “come back” and “add research” littering your manuscript, you’re tons more awesome than you think.
Not being afraid to leave things undone in a rough draft so you can focus on finishing the bigger work is one of the best ways to get those things done.
To finish that blog post.
To publish that book.
To complete that poem.
I use “TK” in my manuscript’s sentences and in the comments. When I’m finished, I find all the “TKs” and annihilate them.
If you’ve learned to move on and come back later, you’ve crossed into the unicorn shire.
You leave blood on the page
Writing vulnerably is one of the scariest parts of writing. If you’re putting your pain into your work, you’re years ahead of where you feel you are.
Misery is brutal; trauma is terrifying. Infusing yourself into your work is nerve-wracking.
But capturing it anyway is the mark of a brave, determined, and unstoppable writer.
You.
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