Why Writers Need to See Their Message as Bigger Than Themselves

I’ll admit it. I wouldn’t mind penning a bestseller and having people around the country and world know who I am. I wouldn’t object to having some bylines in some of the most respected and well-known publications, such as The New York Times. It’d admittedly make it easier to garner reliable income from my work. I do have a legitimate need to know I am good at delivering a message and have value as a wordsmith, as I suspect every author does.

But what happens if you don’t get that validation often (or at all)? What if others tell you that you can’t write?

You just keep writing.

Here’s why.

It’s not about you

Over the past several years, I’ve been deep into therapeutic work. I’ve needed to dive into as much psychology as possible to understand both the world and myself and to gain a stronger sense of direction. And after ingesting many, many different types of content and having many, many conversations, I came to a powerful conclusion.

A good, truthful message transcends the messenger.

What this means to me is, if I am writing well, it does not matter that people know I was the author. What matters is that the words had influence. Changed people. Made a difference. Created legacy. Stayed bigger than me.

writer with big message in the background

This way of looking at my writing has dramatically shifted what I do and do not spend time on. I’m less apt to say what can be prettily boxed and spun and more likely to rock the boat. I don’t try to intentionally start fights with specific people. But I care less about offending others. That’s partly because I know I can’t please everyone anyway. It’s also partly because I have genuine conviction and a sense of obligation toward what I want to say. If I can write in ways that help people confront what needs changing, both in themselves and in the society we’re accountable for, I’m doing my job and good work.

Let the message stand by itself

In this mindset, I invite you to worry less about what others think. If someone has some valid advice that could improve how impactful your words are, listen to it. But if you have a message that matters (and yes, even fiction can offer exceptional meaning), let the message stand for itself. By uncoupling yourself from what you publish in this way, you don’t have to worry about imposter syndrome. You don’t have to defend yourself or your writing experience. All you have to do is hit publish and let the readers do the rest.