I remember landing my first writing gig as a young journalist. I was so hopeful, dying to unleash my voice upon the world.
But I wrote for the newspapers, where every story bordered between direct and sterile. Didn’t the other writers care about craft? Surely, they knew something about the arts?
Oh, they did. They definitely did. But I was young enough to think I knew better than everybody else.
It wasn’t long before I became one of them. Before I realised how writing for a living and writing for yourself were two totally different things. And after scraping by for more than a decade, I can safely say this: writing can be a real bore sometimes, especially if you’re paid to do it.
Here’s why.
1. You have no say
This applies even to the leisurely topics, such as travel and lifestyle. You’d be surprised at how little say you have over the final product. And it wouldn’t do to be a diva about it either, especially if it means having more chicken over instant ramen for the month.
Writers are lucky in that they have access to a wide swathe of industries. The downside, however, is that you’re seldom hired to shake things up. You’re just there to do the grunt work (unless you find a unicorn boss).
You’re not going to get days to come up with a sales tagline like Don Draper. Neither are you going to inspire generations through that press release that’s due at 3 p.m. today.
Sometimes, all you’re there for is to follow the brief. But hey, at least you’re writing for a living, right?
2. The silence hurts
Back when I was younger, I couldn’t help but picture aspiring authors crouched in the trenches, holding onto their helmets, trying to evade enemy fire (metaphor for rejections and personal replies).
But now that I’ve joined their ranks, I’ve learned that it’s not quite so exciting. Both sides of the literary battlefield don’t kill each other as much as they try to bore each other to death—the writers through their subpar stories, and the publishers through the long waits.
I used to picture myself following in King’s footsteps, stabbing my rejection letters through the nail in my wall, only to realise that you can’t do that with email. Plus, by the time you receive the rejection, you’ll have forgotten what your story was about.
Even acceptances take forever. A short story I sold took more than a year to finally make it to print. So did my novel. Basically, you do more waiting than writing when it comes to fiction.
3. Blogging is a job
I’m preaching to the choir here, aren’t I? You probably know this already. It’s all fun and games when you blog as a hobby, but the moment you decide to take it seriously, you start finding chores you never knew existed. Especially ones that you hate.
There’s the SEO research, the social media schmoozing, and the drafting at weird hours because you have a schedule to keep.
Then there’s sales funnels, email newsletters, and shady marketing practices that involve free books (you only pay for shipping!).
Sometimes it’s not the tasks themselves, but the repetition. You end up spending three hours a day doing keyword research and you wonder what you’re doing with your life.
And that’s not including the nitty-gritty like adding tags, formatting, or coming up with titles.
4. Freelance writing is only 50% writing
When I was a hairdresser, I used to dream about working from home (this was pre-pandemic) and selling words to clients all over the world. I’ll only write stories I’m interested in, I told myself. Ba haah ahaha.
Don’t get me wrong. There are swathes of industries ready to hire. The only problem was none of them resonated with me. Take cryptocurrency, for example. Or miracle leggings that apparently cure cancer. You can’t pay me enough to write about something I don’t believe in.
Yet that’s what freelance writing is about: Spending the bulk of your time scouring for paid opportunities, then persuading these clients to pick you over someone cheaper (or better).
After that comes negotiating your terms. And enforcing said terms. That’s provided your clients don’t ghost you in the first place.
5. You’re better off being better off
Not gonna lie, I was first attracted to writing because I wanted to be a drunk like Bukowski or Hemingway.
I always pictured myself with a scotch in hand, hammering away at a Remington, and I did realise that dream somewhat. Only I drank more than I wrote. And I didn’t own a typewriter.
Turns out, that wasn’t the brightest idea because when I couldn’t hustle, the money wouldn’t come in. Which in turn led to the inability to afford alcohol.
So I went the Murakami route instead. I took care of my body and soul, and my output increased because of it. That’s when I discovered that I write best when the rest of my life is in order. And to do that, I’ll need the energy to deal with my day instead of greeting it with a raging hangover.
But nobody likes waking up early and working out regularly. Picking healthy food options is boring too. But that doesn’t change the fact that you gotta feel your best to give your best.
6. Nobody cares about your work
No one. Not your parents, not your partner, nobody. Putting your writing out to the world is the equivalent of performing on open mic night, forever.
Sure, you might get a decent crowd about once a year, but most days, only two of those seats will be filled. And they’re there just to support their friends.
Even if this post were to go viral, I’m willing to bet that most readers would just skim through the headings and close this tab without knowing my name.
But it’s not all gloom and doom. If you’re on somebody’s payroll, you will have at least one person who’ll care about your writing. But only to tell you how much you suck at it.
7. You’ll never truly master writing
Have you ever had your car die on you? Ever popped your hood even though the only thing you recognised was the car battery?
You knock the smoky thing with your wrench, fill some hole with water, tug at a few wires, then you try starting the car even though you know you’ve done jack all.
Ten per cent of the time, your car actually starts again, and you’ll feel like a magician. Yet you know deep down that it wasn’t due to your mechanical prowess.
That’s what writing feels like. Sure, you can study plot, sentence structure, and world-building, but crafting a story still feels like tugging at wires and hoping that you’ll somehow fix the damn thing so it can go somewhere.
And every time you face the blank page, you get the same feeling of staring down the hood of your car, not knowing what’s wrong in the first place.
Conclusion
If writing’s so boring, then why are you still doing it?
Good question. I have no idea. And I bet you don’t know why you write either.
Maybe it’s my way of expressing myself. Maybe I was indeed born for this. Or maybe I’m just hoping that all the time spent writing for magazines and newspapers would someday mean something.
But you wanna know what the magical part of this is? I’ll still write. And so will you. We won’t have a reason why. And that’s okay.
Writing can be boring, but reading needn’t be, especially if you want more exclusive content just like this one. You’ll also get a free guide on how to grow your WordPress audience, so don’t miss out!
Stuart Danker 
I’d love to hear your thoughts!