Spare No Detail

These are some lowkey underrated tips I’ve seen floating around writing communities — the kind that don’t get flashy attention but seriously changed how I write.

1. Put “he/she/they” at the start of the sentence less often.

Try switching up your sentence rhythm. Instead of

“She walked to the window,”

try

“The window creaked open under her touch.”

Keeps it fresh and stops the paragraph from sounding like a checklist.

2. Don’t describe everything — describe what matters.

Instead of listing every detail in a room, pick 2–3 objects that say something.

“A half-drunk mug of tea and a knife on the table”

sets a way stronger tone than

“There was a wooden table, two chairs, and a shelf.”

3. Use beats instead of dialogue tags sometimes.

Instead of:

"I'm fine," she said.

Try:

"I'm fine." She wiped her hands on her skirt.

It helps shows emotion, and movement.

4. Write your first draft like no one will ever read it.

No pressure. No perfection. Just vibes. The point of draft one is to exist. Let it be messy and weird — future you will thank you for at least something to edit.

5. When stuck, ask: “What’s the most fun thing that could happen next?”

Not logical. Not realistic. FUN. It doesn’t have to stay — but chasing excitement can blast through writer’s block and give you ideas you actually want to write.

›› Speaking in that low, wreck-your-world kind of voice that hits somewhere deep in your chest, like a secret only your bones understand.

›› Leaning against a doorway like he’s daring the entire room to challenge him, and the wall’s just collateral damage.

›› Clenching his jaw when someone else makes you laugh, like he's trying not to admit he wants to be the only reason you ever do.

›› Saying “don’t look at me like that” while he’s looking at you like he's already undressing every layer of your soul.

›› Handing you his hoodie, and it smells like midnight and sin and that cologne that haunts your pillow for days after.

›› Touching you like you’re a story he’s been dying to read with his hands, slow and full of reverence, not rush.

›› Whispering something raw and stupidly honest at Midnight. like the dark won’t remember, but you always will.

›› Calling you out so calmly it slices deeper than yelling ever could, because he knows his silence echoes louder.

›› Snapping, just once, and the instant after, looking at you like he’d cut out his own tongue to take it back.

›› Knowing all your tells without asking, like your whole body speaks a language only he bothered to learn.

›› Letting you go even though it’s killing him, because love isn’t the same thing as holding on.

›› Saying “come here” with a voice that makes your knees forget how to hold you up, not a suggestion, not a plea.

›› Smiling for the first time and only at you, like you’re the sunrise after a century of war.

›› Resting his hand on the back of your neck like it's the most natural thing in the world, like you’re his anchor.

›› Standing behind you in the mirror and not saying a word, just watching like you’re the most dangerous, beautiful thing he’s ever survived.

›› Walking into a room and scanning for you first, every time, even when he swears he’s over it.

›› Laughing in that low, surprised way when you challenge him, like he forgot how much he likes the fight.

›› Saying your name like it’s both a prayer and a dare.

›› Looking wrecked in a way that makes you want to destroy whatever did that to him, or hold him so tight it never happens again.

›› Brushing his thumb over your lip mid-sentence, like he’s thinking about kissing you but hasn’t decided if it would ruin or save him.

Writing is messy, even for the best authors. It's supposed to feel a little uncomfortable, exhilarating, freeing, natural, and terrifying.

It's supposed to inspire you and feel like a too-heavy backpack.

Sometimes, you're going to love being a writer and sometimes, you'll feel so disconnected, you'll wonder if you were ever a writer to begin with.

Give yourself room to make mistakes and hate your work and return to it with renewed confidence that yes, you will get 1% better next time.

I saw a tweet the other day that made me think.

A writer tweeted that they would explode if they died before getting at least one of their stories or novels published. They viewed it as their ultimate potential failure because not getting published meant that they spent their whole life working on a skill that wasn't a talent.

I have to say—I've never personally felt that way.

Why Writers Might Feel Pressured to Publish

Don't get me wrong, I've absolutely looked forward to potentially publishing my books and short stories. It's why I've entered and still enter contests. It's why I query agents for my trilogy.

Publishing is the ultimate validation for writers. But there are other reasons to want your work printed too.

Society Pressures People to Turn Hobbies Into Income

Every time I've fallen in love with a new hobby, I've felt like it wouldn't be a valid way to spend my time unless I could make money off of it. It took a while for me to learn that it's okay to just get joy out of something.

Making money off of my writing would feel great, so the pressure to turn my ongoing works into a source of income is definitely there. I'm not sure that this type of stress is talked about enough in our community.

Loved Ones Always Ask for Updates

They mean well, but after many people in my life learned that I earned a writing degree or started querying agents, they ask if I've been published during nearly every interaction we have.

"Have any agents responded yet?"

"Did you win that contest yet?"

"When can I find your stuff in the bookstore?"

They mean well, but it creates a new source of embarrassment and pressure when the answers are always—

"Not yet, because finding an agent takes time."

"Not yet, because contests stretch for months and there are tons of applicants to compete with."

"Not for a while, because turning a submission into a published book takes months and even years sometimes."

Repeating this experience has caused me to become hard on myself. I dread giving the same answers in our next interaction, so I get discouraged about how I'm spending my time or what I'm writing. It makes the dream of getting published anywhere that much more important.

Published Stories Are Validating

It's okay to admit that sharing a Google doc or Word doc with a friend or family member isn't as validating as holding a printed book with your own words in your hands!

That's an experience many writers spend the majority of their lives looking forward to. The professional printing, book binding, and cover art is a treasure. There's nothing wrong with wanting that.

Why Writers Might Not Feel Pressured to Publish

When I read that initial tweet, I also thought about how I know writers who don't mind if they never get published. Sometimes I feel that way myself. That's perfectly fine too!

They're Writing for Themselves

It's great to write for an audience and it's great to write for yourself. Over the course of your writing experience, you'll likely do both.

When I sit down to write, it's most often for myself—especially with my novels. Writing is a way to process what's churning in your heart and mind.

Finishing a story and re-reading it can bring peace that you can't find anywhere else. It's something extremely personal, so saving stories just for yourself is valid.

It's personally how I feel about my books.

I'm querying to see how my skills can grow through the editing and publication process. I'm querying to meet people who love the publishing industry as much as I do. I'm querying to meet people who want to dive into the themes and conflicts in my books as much as I have.

Yes, sometimes I send query letters and beg the universe to let this one work so I can get that validation and satisfaction that comes from getting published.

But most of the time, I'm at peace if that doesn't happen. I wrote those stories for myself and if I'm the only person who ever falls in love with them, I don't view that as a failure because I still enjoyed and learned from the process of creating them.

They Don't Understand the Publishing Industry

Before going to college, I really didn't ever think about getting published. I would have enjoyed it, but the industry was one huge mystery to me.

I literally had to finish my bachelor's degree with my Certificate in Publishing to understand how the industry works from a writer's perspective and from an insider's perspective. It's where I wanted to work (but couldn't afford to after graduation, so it didn't work out).

That being said—there are many parts that are still a mystery! If you spend any time on Writing Twitter or Book Publishing Twitter, you'll find that it's also true for people who are actively employed or writing for publishing houses.

Sometimes it's easier to leave something that big as a mystery. That's perfectly fine if you don't feel like decoding the querying process or everything that happens afterward.

They Don't Plan to Turn Their Writing Into Income

Publishing a book takes a long time. There's also no guarantee that you'll get to publish a second novel (unless you get a multi-book deal, which is uncommon for debut authors).

That makes it terrifying to leave a full-time job. Many people also can't spend their free time writing/editing/promoting their book because they're also going to school, raising kids, taking care of family members, or working multiple jobs to pay off debt.

Writers might also research what they could make off of committing to their debut novel full-time and realize that it doesn't pay the bills.

The average debut author gets a $5,000-15,000 advance. It's often paid out in installments. You won't get royalty checks until you sell enough books to pay your advance back to your publisher, which can take a year or longer too.

That number also doesn't take into account the systemic discrimination many writers are up against.

BIPOC authors make tens of thousands of dollars less than advances to white writers even when they're well-known and have years of publishing success under their belt.

LGBTQIA+ writers will also likely land a small advance because publishers ~still~ claim that stories involving diverse characters/love interests/storylines won't sell as much as books with cisgender, heterosexual characters.

Women (no matter how they identify or what gender they were assigned at birth) will get smaller book deals based on gender and their published books are often priced 45% lower than their male counterparts.

There are absolutely writers who debut with incredible success and land advancements for upcoming works that are double or triple what they made for the first book. But many writers are up against so many odds that they keep their work private to keep the joy writing brings them, instead of having to fight so many systemic challenges and biases to get their work published.

Royalty checks are often also small, even if your books sell well. The biggest names in the industry make substantial royalty checks and ongoing income because their work remains popular with incoming generations, gets sold forever as digital movies, or remains on streaming platforms as TV series. That isn't always a reality for most writers.

The likelihood of that level of success happening right after quitting your full-time job is very small. Everyone has to do what's right for them to pay their bills every month, which is why many writers choose not to bet on their writing becoming their full-time job. It's also why many don't ever try to publish. It takes an incredible amount of time and effort that you might not have.

Publishing Is Personal

All of this is to say that I feel for the writer who sent that original tweet. I also think that our writing community should also recognize and validate people who don't feel that same pressure.

Whether you won't rest until you've signed with one of The Big Five publishing houses or you just want to write for yourself, your work is valid.

try writing like no one is going to read it

it's easier to let yourself go and just enjoy the process of creation when you aren't also playing 6 dimensional chess with your insecurities and anxieties

First drafts are not great quality. Some lines might be fantastic, but overall, it probably won’t be amazing. And that’s totally fine, it’s normal, it’s exactly what you want.

Our silly writer brains expect perfection on the first go for some reason?? Which makes no sense. 

They’re meant to be terrible, just thoughts spewing onto paper, really. Just get the dialogue out, get the story into a tangible, clear sequence of events that’s actually a readable story, not just an outline. You can fix it later <3

Think of it as the “zero draft” instead of the first draft. “Garbage draft” works too.

Write it out on paper with pen, or add messy notes to your documents everywhere to really reinforce the idea that there’s no pressure or expectation for perfection.

Don’t look at any of the draft as you write it until you’re done the draft. Looking back at bad writing while working on the same project can be really discouraging, so just don’t look. 

Once you finish the draft, wait a couple weeks. Long enough to distance yourself from it, so you can come back to fix it with a clear head. 

Don’t compare your first draft to published books. Ever. Those books might be on their tenth, twentieth, thirtieth draft. It’s unfair. Don’t bully yourself or your project.

Set yourself a goal, x words per day, x minutes spent writing, whatever you want. Just make sure it’s achievable. Don’t set yourself up for failure unless you’re asking for discouragement.

You got this <33 Just get that draft down. 

For every day that you can't write, or write less, there are gonna be days when you have plenty of time to write, and you churn out an unbelievable word count because you're in the zone, and you've got good flow.

You’re writing a story, and you feel like it’s predictable. Like the readers can guess the ending before they’re halfway through. Or that twist in the middle? Nah, not a twist if they see it coming, right?

Okay, let’s analyze this. First things first. 

Ask yourself if it really is predictable, and do you have concrete evidence of that?

It might just feel predictable to you because you know how it ends, and you’ve scrutinized your work to the point your brain might explode.