How to Survive the Digital Writing Exodus

All these damn templates are driving me mad.

Last night, I’m sat out on my porch.

It’s a dry summer night here in Portugal. The sky is glistening. A dog howls in the distance. And my brain is rushing around a specific trail of thought…

Style in writing.

So many people struggle with finding their ‘voice’. They bounce back and forth around the topic, hoping to discover what makes them unique in the process. After writing several, terrible pieces, they end up banging their heads against the wall and think it’s pointless.

And that’s when the snake oil salesmen knock on the door…

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What’s the biggest problem with writing online nowadays?

It’s cheap. Constant tricks employed for engagement. Crass words that carry zero authenticity in their brittle shells.

It ends up becoming hollow all too quickly. You feel like you can’t deviate from the algorithm’s preferences otherwise you run the risk of digital extinction.

It’s led to what I call The Digital Writing Exodus — countless people are realising these gimmicks force them to be something other than themselves and are now leaving the online writing space in droves.

So how do you navigate these tricky times?

It’s only when you come back to one fundamental lesson that this feeling of needing to copy people goes away:

Writing is art.

When we incorporate writing into our toolkit for the purposes of traction and remedial numbers online, it becomes a tool; a proverbial paintbrush.

‘I must write this giveaway because that’s what works. Ugh I hate how it sounds.’

Well, of course you do, because you’re treating your writing as a tool.

Writing isn’t the brush, it’s the damn painting.

When you think of writing as an art, you can compare it to other creative endeavours. Whenever someone says ‘I play the piano’ or ‘I paint watercolour paintings of country musicians’, we don’t associate them as people doing this with an end goal in mind.

It’s an extension of their consciousness pouring into the world.

It’s them going into the deeper limits of their perception and ability and throwing out whatever comes out, be it turgid tripe or glistening glory.

So why do we treat writing any differently?

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Writing must primarily be a method of communication with the subconscious.

It should be an outlet for your thoughts; not something you do because it’s essential for growth.

This is also why the traditional school system fails us. It doesn’t teach us to treat writing as an art, but a method for achieving a standardised test result. No wonder people grow to hate it.

Most of us want writing to feel like a companion; a confidant; someone we can enjoy exploring with.

Let’s take it a step further…

When we take an art form like music or painting or dancing, these come from a place deep within us.

But there are techniques that we can use to hone these powers.

• A specific set of dance steps

• A certain chord arrangement

• A particular type of brushstroke

When writing, the same thing applies.

If you’re a copywriter, you’ll know concepts like The Rule of One and The Big Idea.

If you’re a storyteller, you’ll know about concepts like The Hero’s Journey and Archetypes.

But what happens if you follow these templates exclusively?

You don’t end up creating anything original.

The great writers know when to incorporate the rules of the game and when to venture outwards. If you’re a King, you can’t leave your kingdom to conquer new ones all the time. But you can’t just stay within the castles walls either hoping no new enemies appear on the horizon.

It’s in this balanced ritual that style is born.

It’s when you’re riding the precipice of what is known to work and hold true, while simultaneously letting go of any preconceptions and plunging into the unknown.

So, how on Earth do we practice this?

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I picked up the guitar for the first time when I was 8 years old.

I had lessons at school but my teacher spent 6 months explaining the intricacies of the James Bond theme and I grew tired of 007.

Fast forward to when I was 13…

My Dad tells me about a song he loves, but rarely listens to. He will save it for special occasions, and he encourages me to listen to it.

It was ‘All Along The Watchtower’ by Jimi Hendrix.

And my mind melted when I heard this song…

The guitar work was unlike anything I’d ever heard. I was hypnotised in a trance of wah and fuzz. It captivated me so much that I had to know what he was doing.

So I picked up the guitar.

When a teacher was lecturing to me about a song that I had to play exactly the right way, it killed any fire my soul had burning. But when an influence graced my presence that couldn’t be ignored — I fell hypnotised.

THIS is how you make your own style in whatever creative endeavour.

You follow your curiosities down a rabbit hole. You seek out what fascinates you and break it down into digestible pieces. Sometimes you won’t understand it immediately, but time is a gracious healer. In doing this, you find elements of each curiosity, bake them together and use them to expel your subconscious musings out in the world.

THIS is your style.

I studied Jimi Hendrix, Stevie Ray Vaughan and John Mayer mostly when learning guitar.

Did I copy their lines? Of course.

But I would take snippets of those lines and merge them together.

I would constantly ask myself —

“What line do you want to play right now?? Do you want this lick or possibly a different scale?”

When it comes to writing, you study the great writers.

You do this by reading and digesting as much as you can. Throw out the garbage, reread the joy-invoking. Then you begin to play with it…

I love Ernest Hemingway and experimented with writing in his style during my early blogging days online. I also love the style of Bill Bryson and will use my attempt at dry humour where necessary to make a story stick. I would never copy these writers word for word, but I’ll examine the effect their words had on me and try to replicate that in my own unique way.

That is how you form style, my friend.

You borrow from the greats that captivate you, but allow yourself the freedom to think originally and channel that energy through these influences.

When you do this, you’ll suddenly get people reaching out to you —

“I’ve never seen someone frame that idea in such a way before.”

You’ll be authentically yourself, backed by the greats before you and fueled by your curiosity.

Forget growth guides. Forget BS generic writing advice.

Simply follow what sets your soul alight. Read like books are sheep and you’re a hungry wolf. Spend your time actively listening instead of burying your face in a phone.

When you do this, your unique interpretation of all this beauty that lies in front of you begins to merge and, suddenly, style comes pouring out uncontrollably. Don’t listen to those snake oil salesmen trying to convince you that you need just one more magical guide and you’ll finally unique.

All it takes is the courage to put down the handbook.

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Final note here.

I expect Will and I to be fully in sync on this publication in about 2 weeks. When that happens, the price of this publication’s paid tier will go up.

He and I plan to add these things to the paid tier:

• Storytelling classes,

• Regular feedback on your articles,

• Regular Q&A

It’s possible the back catalog of this publication will also only be available to paid members. Haven’t decided on that yet.

Bottom line:

If you want the perks of a paid subscription for the best price, join What Makes Great Writing now.

Use this link:

​https://www.whatmakesgreatwriting.com/subscribe​