A lovely new writer joined our library writing group recently. She came prepared with a piece she’d written and asked us to give her “the good, the bad, and the ugly -because at her age,” she said (with her gorgeous silver hair), “she could handle anything.”
I explained that this isn’t what we do in Joyful Rebel Writer circles. Here, we write together, share our pieces, and focus on what’s strong and memorable in each other’s words. We don’t critique writing because, counterintuitive as it might sound, critiquing isn’t necessarily the shortest path to becoming a better writer.
She furrowed her brows, clearly skeptical, but she bravely went along with it. I offered a prompt, and we wrote together. One by one, we read our raw writing out loud, and gave feedback focused on the strengths that stood out to us.
By the end of the evening, she admitted it had felt vulnerable -something inside her had cracked open. “I want to come back,” she said. A seed had been planted: the possibility of nurturing her writing in a different, gentler way.
Why Must It Be Hard?
So often, we’re taught that the only way to grow is to do things the hard way. To push through, expect the worst, and toughen up under criticism. The problem is, this mindset creates stress in our bodies and dampens our capacity for joy and creativity.
We come to believe that the only way to improve is by dominating ourselves with judgment and inviting others to do the same.
But I believe in a different way.
It’s why I became a facilitator with the Writers Collective of Canada. This arts health organization is rooted in a philosophy that champions people’s voices through the radical act of listening for the good in someone’s writing- not the bad or the ugly.
I recently re-attended the WCC facilitator training in Vancouver, and it deepened my connection to this approach. My heart was overflowing. It reminded me that there’s no “proper” way to write.
Certainly, if you’re on a publishing path, your publisher will have their terms and conditions. But that’s just one path. Writing belongs to everyone, not just those pursuing commercial success. Yet somehow, publishing dominates the conversation about what it means to be a writer.
What Matters Most
Here’s what truly matters in writing: butt in chair, pen moving, or fingers typing. Period.
Whatever comes out of the session is secondary, especially for:
New writers finding their footing
Writers feeling blocked
Writers wanting to expand their creative flow
The act of writing itself is the victory. Not editing. Not revising. Not judging. Not critiquing. Not hunting for the “good, the bad, or the ugly” in your words. That you sat down and wrote matters.
If brilliance happens to emerge, great! If it doesn’t, great! The point is to keep showing up. Often, it takes an ocean of words to uncover the few that beautifully express what you want to say.
Practicing writing without the pressure to be magnificent, witty, or eloquent builds your writing muscle - not to make you brilliant, but to make you consistent.
Why Consistency Matters
Consistency is where the magic happens.
It helps you meet the resistance that inevitably shows up.
It leads to the brilliance that will also inevitably emerge.
And it strengthens your connection to inspiration and your creative muses.
I’m still working on my own consistency. I tend to prioritize my to-do list, organizing everything before I sit down to write. Those unfinished tasks take up space in my mind and feel urgent. But the truth is, there will always be a list of important to-dos.
My writing also deserves to be on that list. It deserves to be a priority, even if it’s only for twenty minutes a day.
If you’ve been waiting for permission to write small, messy, imperfect words, here it is: Just write.
The good, the bad, the ugly - they don’t matter nearly as much as simply showing up.
What do you think matters in your writing?
Well said, Kasia! I hope there will be more conversations about writing that don't involve publishing, so we can all just write. :)