Am I a real writer if no one has read my work?

I’m answering the internet’s most commonly asked questions about writing. If you’d like me to answer your question, drop me a line!

Today’s question is: Am I a real writer if no one has read my work?

And wow, I have heard variations on this from so many writers. I’ve heard it from established and successful writers, telling this to the writers behind them even as they arduously pull up the ladder so that these apparent figments of their own imaginations can’t get past them. I’ve heard it from beginning writers who have been so beaten down by a system designed to destroy them before they start that they feel invisible. I’ve heard it from midlist writers who feel like they’re doing all this work and no one is reading it, even though the public reviews of their work would tell a different story.

This answer comes in a couple of parts.

1. Yes. You’re a legitimate writer. If you feel compelled to write, then you are a writer, and you may claim that. Whether or not anyone has read your work. Whether or not you’ve made a dime off of your work. Before you’ve even started, you are a writer, because the Universe has tapped you to be a writer. It’s done, babe. Case closed.

2. You are a legitimate writer before anyone reads your work, and you will remain a legitimate writer after, but while we’re on the subject… you only need one reader to complete a writing process. If that’s the hurdle that’s making you feel like you’re not legit, find one reader, get them to read your work, and it’s okay if it’s your mom.

I’m so sorry that our current world has made you feel like you need someone to tell you this, but I’m happy that I get to do it, because yes… if you write, you are a writer.

Even if I don’t write every day? Yes.

Even if I haven’t written in a month, or a year, or a decade? Yes.

Even if my writing has cost me endless hours of my life, and I’ve never made a dime off of it?

You can keep asking me these questions if you want to, but my answer is not going to change.

My answer is yes.

So how do I know this, without knowing you or having personally validated your work? Because you’re asking that question, which means you’ve been called to writing, which means you are a writer. Look, I have neither the right to take that legitimacy away from you, nor to grant it to you, but if I can just convince you that the difference between a writer and a non-writer is simply and only the feeling of being called or compelled to write, then I will know that my work today has been a job well done.

You are a writer. Don’t let anyone convince you otherwise. And if you haven’t written in a day, or a month, or a decade, I would wager good money that it’s because someone told you that you’re not a writer and fucked up your confidence and you need confidence to write.

So fuck them. Listen to me. I’m so much better than them.

You’re a writer. Full stop.

Look, I do not want to feed your instinct to delegitimize yourself, but if jumping over a hurdle is what you need to feel legit… then let’s talk about it for a minute.

Writing is the act of communicating ideas from one mind to another without the requirement of being in the same space at the same time.

If you write something, and one reader reads it, you have completed that cycle. Every other reader you get after numero uno is—and this is going to make you uncomfortable, so strap in—gravy.

“But Lani,” you say, hesitating, because you know how I get when I’m challenged on something when I know I’m fucking right, “one reader isn’t enough to change the world. It’s not enough to establish a career. It’s not enough to feed my family. It’s not enough to even pay for my laptop or my Microsoft subscription.”

And this is where we diverge, because right now, we’re talking about two different things. I’m talking about the art of writing, and the identity of being a writer.

You are talking about the scourge of unregulated capitalism.

And baby… those are two different things. Best separate that shit from your art immediately, because you will waste precious energy thinking you’re not deserving of an identity that is already yours, and that’s just too sad for me to contemplate right now.

Look, when your ability to remain alive literally depends on making enough money to afford healthcare, housing, and food (I am primarily talking about America, because we are the literal Worst, but lack of regulation in capitalism is not solely an American affliction) it’s hard to do anything if you don’t know it will result in a paycheck. Spending time and energy on any activity that doesn’t make you money feels like you’re taking a capricious risk of ending up without the money you need to survive—not to buy the latest MacBook Pro, but to survive—just for the sake of personal fulfillment or whatever.

That’s real, and it’s hard, and I get it, truly.

But the fact remains, whether you make a dime off your work, whether anyone besides you ever reads it or not, whether you are respected or maligned (hey romance writer hey) you remain a writer.

Don’t let these motherfuckers make you feel otherwise. We may not be able to de-capitalize the worlds we live in right now, but we can decapitalize our minds and our senses of ourselves. Your inability to make enough money right now is not your failing, and it doesn’t change who you are.

If you shoot webs out of your wrists, you are fucking Spider-man.

If you write, you are a writer.

Period.

The thing keeping you from writing your novel isn’t a lack of time or talent. You just need to learn how you write, with a group of other writers all learning the same thing.

Registration for The Year of Writing Magically ‘27 opens on September 1!