Many of us readers, even if not entirely serious about our aspirations or literary future, have probably considered the idea of writing a book, and many of us have tried or started the process.
I would estimate that thousands, or perhaps even tens of thousands, of non-published people sit down every year and being working on a book, or at least brainstorm the idea of one, but never allow it to amount to a completed product, let alone a published one.
I want to tackle the why surrounding this dilemma, and try to outline what holds back many aspiring authors, regardless of age or social status, from finishing their work or getting completed manuscripts published.
Time Commitment & Required Effort
A large factor that holds back aspiring adult writers is the time and energy needed to compose a quality book, whether that be an engrossing piece of fiction or a well-researched, interesting work of non-fiction.
In the age of an ever-inflating cost of living, plus the allure of easy escapism thanks to social media and online entertainment, it is understandable why many aspiring writers cannot muster the mental (or physical) energy to work on their manuscript. Instead, when they do get some free time, they have other things they may want to, or need to, indulge in for the sake of their own well-being.
There is also the undeniable risk that one could write on and off for years, only to have all their effort remain unrecognised. Layer that jaded sentiment in with the rest of the adult world’s cynicism and it becomes hard to imagine yourself making it as an author.
Too Self-Critical
Most of us have read a bad book. Even if it was not an inherently bad piece of writing, it may not have clicked with us or seemed undeserving of the praise it got from others. Regardless, there are plenty of mediocre books out there that are not worth anyone’s time—no one likes to admit that, but anyone who has begun to write a serious publication always has one core ambition: to not write a bad book.
The problem is that, for many unpublished writers who have never quite gotten the praise, encouragement, or recognition they need, they create unrealistic standards and fail to understand that improving as a writer is often iterative and rooted in experience. People need to read one’s work and critique it—highlight the positives and negatives, perhaps even make suggestions—to harden their literary mind and own artistic judgement. Like learning to walk or ride a bike, it’s necessary to fall over and graze yourself a few times until it eventually becomes natural and less daunting.
But most creatives tend to take any negative reception or suggestions badly, and too much to heart, which stifles them. They try to counteract this by setting unnecessarily high standards for themselves (which, ironically, shows their lack of experience and naivety), which they believe will sway people and allow them to avoid criticism, judgement, rejection, and the ego-killing dejection that comes with those things.
These types of writers are typically young, lower twenties or in their teens, and wrongly enter the writing process with the belief that they must write a best-seller on their first go. The various acclaimed debut works and popular best-sellers they have read in their lifetime create an unrealistic precedent, especially if the author they read were young when they hit it big in the literary world.
This belief and approach rarely results in good writing, it tends to create frustration and doubt about one’s own ability; even if the quality of writing is promising, they are blinded by this idiotic drive to be one of the greats on their first try. This is why many published, successful authors advise aspiring writers to not worry during the first drafts, and instead work on rewriting and refining for the final iterations of the manuscript, because refining a finished draft is easier than writing a perfect story in one continuous go.
Writers who focus too much on quality at every point of their writing will inevitably trip up over meaningless things that can be altered in later edits. This slow crawl of annoyingly sparse amounts of progress, coupled with needless dilemmas over specific wording and dialogue, tends to boil over and result in burnout before the first draft is even finished. Similarly, those obsessed with writing a one-of-a-kind story will become absorbed in their quest to keep everything original and non-derivative, resulting in a frustrating amount of planning and editing that can extend workloads and overcomplicate what is, on its own, a solid story concept.
Regardless of how these self-critical behaviours manifest, and what they specifically result in, the overall outcome is often an unfinished book, one that never sees the light of day, and was never given the chance to thanks to the author’s suffocating perfectionism and unwillingness to compromise.
Shyness & Timidity
These elements are also rooted in what was discussed above, but are more personal and linked to emotional traits. Instead of being doubtful of one’s own ability, it is more so a fear of exposing a part of one’s self that is perceived as embarrassing or silly. Those who grow up with higher sensitivity towards the reactions of others will likely suffer from anxiety or timidness, resulting in behaviour that seeks to avoid drawing unwanted attention to themselves.
A multitude of people write fiction that they would never show to another person, that part is fairly natural for all of us—we keep things to ourselves. Some write it for self-entertainment or to kill boredom, others write it as a means of expressing themselves, and more troubled individuals may use it as a means of escapism when they are in a bad place.
Regardless of their reasons, many writers are reluctant to share their work. Students may trust a teacher who is supposed to be more impartial and supportive, but would not dare entrust their friends and peers with reading a short story they wrote. Contrastingly, young children may share it with their friends, but hide it from their parents and other adults who they fear might tell them off or read too closely into its contents. There is also the lifelong effects that bullying has one one’s self-esteem, self-perception, and emotional control.
The reason for the shyness is somewhat irrelevant to this post’s topic, but its effects are not. If a person cannot bring themselves to put their writing out there, it may as well not exist as far as the world is concerned. Every author, no matter how impressive or one-note they are as writers, have had to put themselves in a vulnerable position of being a literary flop. To avoid facing such a fate head-on is to avoid becoming a published author.
Plenty of authors are failures, shifting a few hundred copies at best and never being able to get the traction or reviews they need to advance in the writing world. The more timid and shy writers dread the idea of being one of them; not being forgotten or overlooked, instead being remembered as a failed author or a poorly received writer. So they take the easy way out and never share their writing or, at the very least, cannot bring themselves to try and publicise it to a global market of readers.
Imitation
Readers are inspired by writers, and writers are inspired through reading. It is a see-saw that fuels the modern world of books now that basic literacy skills are more common than in the 1800s and prior centuries, enabling more people of all socioeconomic classes to write.
The issue is not inspiration, but rather imitation. Some aspiring writers fail to find their own voice and style, or simply neglect it, and instead try to become a pastiche of their favourite author(s). In trying to match someone who lacks their life experiences, or was perhaps born in an entirely different generation with different cultures and mindsets, these writers cripple their chances to sound original or in control of their narration style, shunning whatever unique, artistic flair they may have.
Imitation, at best, results in a poorer product. At worst, it results in a laughable failure, which is the last thing any author wants, especially an up and coming one. Yet, this reality falls on deaf ears, and many writers ignore the value of their own style and voice—their own humanity and personality—to grift as a knock-off of their inspirations. Because of how this limits creativity and quality, it rarely results in a published book, if the author even finishes their manuscript to begin with.
Niche Topics & Focus
Let’s imagine an aspiring author did make it, they got their work published and now it’s out there for readers to buy in printed and digital formats… but it doesn’t sell. Minimal amounts of copies get shifted, and it gets buried in a sea of new releases that seem to be doing much better when it comes to the financial side.
Unfortunately, such an outcome can often be rooted in failing to target a large enough consumer base, which results in a tiny and underwhelming readership. In the world of commerce, this is the equivalent of kneecapping a product before the race even begins. It simply stands no chance at obtaining any kind of success.
The limitation of being too niche is true for both fiction and non-fiction. If I poured my heart and soul into writing something ridiculously specific like The History of the QWERTY Keyboards 1867-2025, I am sure some hardcore tech enthusiasts would read it (jokes aside, I would), and greatly enjoy it. But it would be a commercial failure and reflect badly on my credentials as an author, even if it was competently written and thoroughly researched, and got five-star reviews from the few who bought it.
In fiction, genres like detective fiction, high-stakes thrillers, and romance do well because audiences know what outcomes to expect, and instead want to enjoy an author’s unique approach. If I asked ten people to draw me an apple, they would all create different illustrations that reflect on their character, ability, and effort. This, in essence, is what readers often want to pick up from an author and their writing when it comes to these overly popular, oversaturated, and borderline cliché genres of fiction. Niche genres come with risk, so the general reader may avoid them, which alienates a sizeable portion from the author and their work.
All of this boils down to this patronising summary: if a book lacks appeal, it will not sell. If a book fails to sell, then no notable amount of people read it. And if that happens, it is typically curtains for the author’s literary aspirations.
Publisher Rejection
On the other hand, some never get their work out there into the world, despite months or years of writing and earnestly presenting it to publishers.
Rejection is not necessarily a reflection of, nor a response to, the author’s writing ability. Instead, it is often about market trends, overall appeal, and likelihood of generating a worthwhile profit. There is also the added bonus of publicity or exclusivity for a publisher if they end up printing what goes on to be a best-selling gem, netting them greater sales. These are all elements that these publishers businesses try to calculate before giving the green light to a manuscript.
If this business-minded approach results in rejection, it can deeply cut the ego and confidence of writers who held their head high, potentially turning them away from writing, the same way a harrowing crash may rattle a motorsport driver and cause them to retire. Yet, it is rarely a personal matter, it’s ‘just business, kid’, and that is perhaps what hurts more, to be reduced to numbers and profit over effort and passion.
Regardless, if an aspiring author cannot get their work out there with the right people and editors behind it, it can hold back their literary career for years or outright kill their enthusiasm towards writing. We all like to believe publisher rejection is a rarity, but I recently attended an interesting lecture with a local published author (who I won’t name) where they explained that it was the opposite: rejection is the commonplace outcome, and approval is rooted in a myriad of factors, including market focus and viability, other author’s manuscripts, releases from other publishers, and the publisher’s speciality genres or portfolio focus.
Published authors get a credibility and fanbase that improves their chances of getting extra funding to write more, exclusivity contracts, and less resistance towards their manuscripts if they typically prove successful. Newbies don’t get such luxuries and have to hold out until their moment in the literary spotlight comes, if it ever does…
I personally believe that schools and universities are reluctant to admit such things to young people who talk big about becoming an author, for fear of lowering enrolment or engagement within English classes. The upside is that self-publishing is a thing, and is fairly accessible, even if it comes with fees or lower profit margins. However, as I discussed here, it has some major issues hindering it, and the golden stamp of approval for any author is being endorsed by global publishers like Faber & Faber, Penguin, HarperCollins, MacMillan, Simon & Schuster, Hachette, and a few others that are less notable.
Of course, you could stretch this topic out by another thousand words if you pleased. These above examples are likely the most damning things that hinder or hold back aspiring authors that simply want to get their work out there.
The best advice I can give anyone as a fellow unpublished writer is to persevere, even if the outcome of grandeur seems slim. Write for the love of it, not the dream of profit or acclaim, which should always be secondary to any true artist.
Another side note, if you do end up making it as an author in the future (and I truly hope you do), try to avoid milking your works or creating overly long series from your successes. The greats with a small portfolio are often lauded much more than the above average who pumped out book after book—even Stephen King, for all the praise I gave Shawshank Redemption, is guilty of writing some middling works based on online reception, and I reckon such things could be avoided if he weren’t so hell-bent on mass-producing fiction.
Nonetheless, I hope this post opened some people’s eyes, and perhaps aided some perfectionist types in easing up on themselves. We can only hope those who truly deserve to get their stories out there do, but saying such a thing invites a whole other question of who deserves to be published and who does not?
Leave a Reply