Why You Don’t Need a Literary Background to Write a Great Novel
How we allow ourselves to fail before we even start
Helping writers work through self-defeating thoughts is something I love to do. Honestly, what helps more than anything is just listening and being a mirror to allow them to see what’s really going on.
Because so often it’s not anything out there that holds us back.
It’s us. Plain and simple. We look outside of ourselves, compare and think… Nope, can’t measure up.
But that’s just us fooling ourselves. Well, trying to protect ourselves really. And we don’t need to. Not about this. Not about writing and telling stories. Not in that way.
Case in Point:
I was on a call with a writer recently who told me about her beautiful story idea—how much it meant to her, how badly she wanted to write it…and how she just couldn’t stay committed.
“There are so many moments when I feel totally deflated,” she said. “Like, what’s the point? It’s never going to happen anyway.”
I paused. “What’s never going to happen?”
She looked at the books behind me on my shelf and said, “Finishing the book. Making it into one of those. I didn’t come from a writing background. I don’t know how to make something like that.”
And I got it. Because not too long ago, I felt the exact same way.
I didn’t come from a literary background either. I didn’t start seriously trying to write a novel until my mid-thirties—that wasn’t even a decade ago. Back then, I didn’t have the skills. But I learned. I kept going. And I’m still learning.
Here’s the cool and personal part that I wanted to share: Just recently, I placed 3rd overall in a first pages competition and 1st overall in voice. Not because I had credentials, but because I stuck with it.
One of the most common—and quietest—ways we stop ourselves is by quitting before we even begin. We tell ourselves we can’t measure up, that we’re too far behind, or that it’s too late, or that other people have something we don’t.
But what we often don’t consider is context.
Instead of trying to talk this writer out of her fear or pile on reassurance about how books are built in layers (they are!) or how many successful authors had no formal training (also true!), I asked her about something else she’d shared earlier.
She’d told me about a moment in her life—real-life stakes—where she had no idea what to do. No background. No baseline knowledge. But she figured it out. Because it mattered. Because she was invested.
Then I turned the convo back to her WIP and asked: What’s the difference between learning how to do that…and learning how to write a book?
The rest of the conversation went like this:
Are you invested (in this story)? Yes.
Are you interested and passionate about the topic? Yes.
So it matters to you? Yes.
Did you feel confident when you were trying to figure out how to (do the real-life- thing she’d told me about that was very important) No.
Did you learn? Yes.
How? By doing.
Right.
Boiled down to bare bones, taking the self-defeating emotions out of the equation, it’s not that different…right? Right.
Here’s the takeaway:
Don’t allow yourself to fail before you even start.
Do not quit on yourself—or your story—just because you fear you lack the skill or the talent.
The writing skillset can be learned, trust me I know–you should see where I started: telling everywhere, weak verbs, poor sentence structure, grammatical errors all over the place, cardboard characters, flat storylines and all that…and now, I know how to write in a way that is engaging–or at least I am far better at it
I am a writer. Because I decided to be and stuck with it.
So are you.
And I’m proud of what I write. I’m proud of the work I put into it and that I get to help others learn to do it too.
And talent doesn’t matter for beans if you don’t have the diligence to apply it and work hard.
So if you’ve got the interest and desire to pursue your writing and tell a story, don’t hold back.
It’s more than enough to begin.
The secret is to continue. Because you love it.
So before you close your browser and scroll to the next thing, ask yourself: What story would I be writing if I stopped assuming I had to get it perfect—or that I needed to know more than I do right now to begin?
What might happen if you stopped measuring yourself against other people’s journeys and outcomes and just let yourself begin?
You don’t have to earn the right to be here. You are a writer—if you choose to be. So choose it. Today. This week. In whatever small, brave way you can. Then do it again tomorrow.
Small bites, friend. Keep your passion for learning front and center, and let go of the fear that “it’s not enough”—as many times as you need to.
“A professional writer is an amateur who didn’t quit.”
