Reading time: About 3 minutes
If you want to become a better writer, you need to understand that writing practice beats theory every time…
When I started learning how to write for newspapers, back in my late teens, I felt as though I was hitting my head against a wall. A brick one. Repeatedly.
I couldn’t figure out how to begin.
I’d always earned A+ in English in high school, but that didn’t help in the least. Zip. Zero. Zilch.
I couldn’t determine the best order to provide the facts.
I had no idea whatsoever about how to manage my copious notes.
The work was alien to me — I felt like a country person being dropped into New York City at the height of rush hour. Or a deer in the headlights, only the deer is holding a notebook and crying.
The books I read didn’t help.
The people I spoke with couldn’t make it easier.
The analysis of other writers I did — and trust me, I did buckets of analysis — showed me what I desperately longed to achieve but gave me no clue about how to get there.
Eventually I discovered there was only one way to learn.
By doing it. By failing. And by doing it again.
This is the big secret to writing.
Writing is not just intellectual knowledge. Instead, it’s a performance skill like swimming or tennis. Or juggling flaming torches while riding a unicycle.
With sports, you not only need to know how to use your arms and control your breathing — you also need to practice doing it, until it becomes second nature.
Writers can accumulate books, attend workshops and listen to podcasts. They can articulate story structure, polish prose techniques and make lists of all the facts they need. But they still might not produce powerful writing.
Here’s why writing practice beats theory, every time:
1-Writers need muscle memory
This is the same as knowing how to hold and swing your tennis racquet or golf club. Certain sentence rhythms, specific words and phrases and narrative pacing need to become intuitive. You have to produce them without thinking about them. Without even being conscious of what you’re doing. Once you get beyond grade school, you don’t “sound out” common words when you read them. Just as you recognize common words instantly without sounding them out, you should also be able to write without consciously thinking through each word choice.
2-Writers must be able to recognize and repeat patterns
Writing is less about coming up with something shiny and “new” and more about recognizing and copying patterns that have existed for centuries. True, you won’t become another Shakespeare. (Sorry to burst that bubble.) But you have a shot at writing a book, perhaps even a bestselling one.
But in order to do that, you need to recognize the patterns used by other successful writers. This is why reading is such an essential step for becoming a writer. And I don’t mean reading “how to” books — I mean reading actual writing by authors you admire, authors you’d like to emulate.
3-Writers require stamina
If I asked you to run a marathon tomorrow, you’d look at me like I’d lost my mind. And you’d be right to harbour that suspicion. No one can run a marathon without having trained for months first. Writing is the same. You shouldn’t try writing for an hour until you’ve built up your endurance, first. I suggest most people start writing with no more than five to 15 minutes. I know that doesn’t sound like much, but it’s the best possible way to build a writing habit that’s sustainable. Think of yourself as a writing infant. You need to crawl before you can run.
4-Writers grow through failure
I know this sounds unpleasant, but failure is the best possible teacher. (It’s also free, which is a bonus.) Unlike success, which often lulls us into complacency, failure highlights exactly where we need to grow. Each mistake offers a lesson disguised as a setback, giving us the opportunity to adapt, experiment and try again.
Over time, these experiences build resilience and deepen our understanding. You seldom beat yourself up when you miss a tennis ball — perhaps because so many are coming at you so fast and furiously. Instead, you adjust by doing things a little differently. Don’t beat yourself up when you make a mistake in writing. Just learn to do better the next time.
What practice looks like
Real writing practice means writing badly at first. Embarrassingly badly. It means completing drafts, not perfecting sentences. It requires regular work rather than binge-writing sessions. It benefits from experimentation and play. It’s helped by professional feedback on your actual words — not theoretical understanding.
Some people tell me they want to learn the rules first, before they write. Instead, I recommend learning the rules as you’re writing. Mistakes made in practice teach more than theory ever can. As you write, the rules will start to make sense, and you’ll discover your own voice along the way. Starting first, learning second, keeps the process interesting.
Other people say they worry they’re just going to be “practicing mistakes” and developing bad habits. But while it’s natural to worry about bad habits, early mistakes are part of learning. Writing daily — even imperfectly — helps you recognize what works and what doesn’t, which is the first step toward improvement.
Habits only become permanent when you stop reflecting and revising, so the key is to practice deliberately, noticing patterns in your writing and adjusting as you go. Mistakes aren’t the problem — ignoring them is.
Many new writers worry that feedback will stifle their voice or make them second-guess themselves, but in reality, thoughtful feedback is a powerful tool for growth. It doesn’t replace your ideas. Instead, it helps you see blind spots. It’s like having a mirror for your writing — sometimes unflattering, but also useful. The key is to approach feedback selectively and carefully so it becomes a guide rather than a constraint. (Also, be careful of feedback from writers’ groups. Not all of them are equal.)
Don’t become a writer who gets stuck in perpetual student mode. Be messy and just start writing. Embrace the chaos. Make friends with the mess.
You can’t learn to float by reading about water — you have to get wet. So, dive in.
If you liked this post, you’ll also like When you should stop reading, start writing.
*
Need some help developing a better, more sustainable writing or editing routine? Learn about my three-month accountability program called Get It Done. There is turn-over each month, and priority will go to those who have applied first. You can go directly to the application form and you’ll hear back from me within 24 hours.
*
My video podcast last week addressed how to finish your writing. You can watch the video or read the transcript, and you can also subscribe to my YouTube channel.
*
What’s your take on why writing practice beats theory? We can all learn from each other, so please, share your thoughts with my readers and me in the comments section, below. If you comment on today’s post (or any others) by Oct. 31/25, I’ll put you in a draw for a digital copy of my first book, 8 1/2 Steps to Writing Faster, Better. To enter, please scroll down to the comments, directly underneath the related posts links, below. You don’t have to join Disqus to post! Read my tutorial to learn how to post as a guest. (It’s easy!)
