Some Advice for Young Writers.
When I was a child, summer didn’t mean vacations, sports camps, or long trips. It meant stories. Every year, I would pick a fresh college-rule spiral notebook, design a colorful cover for it, and paste it on the front like a published book. On the back, I’d write a little blurb describing the story — dramatic, mysterious, or sometimes silly. Then I would fill that notebook, page by page, with a story straight from my heart.
When the book was done, I’d lend it to my closest friends and ask them what they thought. At the time, we were all around twelve years old — just kids with big imaginations and unfiltered opinions. And yet, their feedback was incredibly valuable. They told me which characters they loved, which ones felt flat or annoying. They pointed out moments when they got confused, or places where they laughed unexpectedly. Some even suggested plot twists I hadn’t considered.
What I didn’t realize then was that I was learning the essential habits of a writer: how to draft, how to revise, and how to receive constructive criticism with humility. I wasn’t trying to become an author. I was just a bored kid, a little bitter that my parents didn’t send me to summer camp or let me join sports teams like the other kids. But now, I understand — those long, lonely hours were shaping me into a storyteller.
All the afternoons spent indoors, all the weekends where I missed out on extracurriculars — they weren’t lost time. I used them to write, and more importantly, to read. For a long stretch, I was homeschooled, and my access to books was limited. But whenever I could, I devoured every book I could get my hands on. Fiction, nonfiction, poetry, fantasy, science, biographies — I read everything. Reading helped me understand the world; writing helped me process it.
So, if you are a young writer, or even just someone who enjoys the act of putting thoughts to paper, here are a few things I’ve learned — not from textbooks, but from real experience.
1. Write bad drafts.
Don’t try to be perfect. The first draft is supposed to be messy, awkward, and incomplete. What matters is that you *finish it.* Once it’s done, then the real writing begins — the rewriting.
2. Share your work — even if it scares you.
Your story isn’t truly alive until someone reads it. Feedback can be scary, but it’s also your most powerful tool for growth. Not everyone will understand your voice, but the ones who do will help you improve it.
3. Read widely, read bravely.
Read books that challenge you, books from voices different than yours. Read things that make you uncomfortable, make you laugh, make you cry, and make you *think*. You cannot grow as a writer unless you grow as a reader first.
4. Let your real life feed your fiction.
Your joy, your loneliness, your questions, your dreams — they are your most authentic source material. You don’t need a dramatic life to write a meaningful story. You just need to pay attention to the emotions inside you.
5. Be patient.
Writing is not a race. You won’t become your favorite author overnight. There will be times when you hate everything you’ve written, when you feel like you’ll never be good enough. Keep going. Every word you write is progress.
6. Find joy in the process, not just the result.
It’s easy to focus on publishing, on gaining followers, on getting recognition. But true writers write because they love the process. If writing makes you feel alive, that’s reason enough to keep doing it.
And maybe the most important thing: your voice matters. The world doesn’t need another perfect story — it needs *your* story. The way you see the world, the way you feel things, the way you tell a moment — that’s something only *you* can offer.
So write, even if no one is watching. Write even if it’s just for yourself. Because one day, someone will read your words and feel seen, understood, maybe even healed. That’s the real magic of writing.
And it all starts with a notebook, a little courage, and a heart full of stories.
Some Advice for Young Writers.
When I was a child, summer didn’t mean vacations, sports camps, or long trips. It meant stories. Every year, I would pick a fresh college-rule spiral notebook, design a colorful cover for it, and paste it on the front like a published book. On the back, I’d write a little blurb describing the story — dramatic, mysterious, or sometimes silly. Then I would fill that notebook, page by page, with a story straight from my heart.
When the book was done, I’d lend it to my closest friends and ask them what they thought. At the time, we were all around twelve years old — just kids with big imaginations and unfiltered opinions. And yet, their feedback was incredibly valuable. They told me which characters they loved, which ones felt flat or annoying. They pointed out moments when they got confused, or places where they laughed unexpectedly. Some even suggested plot twists I hadn’t considered.
What I didn’t realize then was that I was learning the essential habits of a writer: how to draft, how to revise, and how to receive constructive criticism with humility. I wasn’t trying to become an author. I was just a bored kid, a little bitter that my parents didn’t send me to summer camp or let me join sports teams like the other kids. But now, I understand — those long, lonely hours were shaping me into a storyteller.
All the afternoons spent indoors, all the weekends where I missed out on extracurriculars — they weren’t lost time. I used them to write, and more importantly, to read. For a long stretch, I was homeschooled, and my access to books was limited. But whenever I could, I devoured every book I could get my hands on. Fiction, nonfiction, poetry, fantasy, science, biographies — I read everything. Reading helped me understand the world; writing helped me process it.
So, if you are a young writer, or even just someone who enjoys the act of putting thoughts to paper, here are a few things I’ve learned — not from textbooks, but from real experience.
1. Write bad drafts.
Don’t try to be perfect. The first draft is supposed to be messy, awkward, and incomplete. What matters is that you *finish it.* Once it’s done, then the real writing begins — the rewriting.
2. Share your work — even if it scares you.
Your story isn’t truly alive until someone reads it. Feedback can be scary, but it’s also your most powerful tool for growth. Not everyone will understand your voice, but the ones who do will help you improve it.
3. Read widely, read bravely.
Read books that challenge you, books from voices different than yours. Read things that make you uncomfortable, make you laugh, make you cry, and make you *think*. You cannot grow as a writer unless you grow as a reader first.
4. Let your real life feed your fiction.
Your joy, your loneliness, your questions, your dreams — they are your most authentic source material. You don’t need a dramatic life to write a meaningful story. You just need to pay attention to the emotions inside you.
5. Be patient.
Writing is not a race. You won’t become your favorite author overnight. There will be times when you hate everything you’ve written, when you feel like you’ll never be good enough. Keep going. Every word you write is progress.
6. Find joy in the process, not just the result.
It’s easy to focus on publishing, on gaining followers, on getting recognition. But true writers write because they love the process. If writing makes you feel alive, that’s reason enough to keep doing it.
And maybe the most important thing: your voice matters. The world doesn’t need another perfect story — it needs *your* story. The way you see the world, the way you feel things, the way you tell a moment — that’s something only *you* can offer.
So write, even if no one is watching. Write even if it’s just for yourself. Because one day, someone will read your words and feel seen, understood, maybe even healed. That’s the real magic of writing.
And it all starts with a notebook, a little courage, and a heart full of stories.
English
Arabic
French
Spanish
Portuguese
Deutsch
Turkish
Dutch
Italiano
Russian
Romaian
Greek
