The Fear of Writing and Practice

by LT Ellis Author | Jun 16, 2025 | Writing

The Fear of Writing and Practice

This blog post has been rolling around in the old noggin for a while, but I’ve only just now started forming it into a cohesive article so I hope it helps.

It’s Not Writer’s Block. It’s the Fear of Practice.

(And if you’re like me you’re afraid of having a messy draft)

We don’t talk about this enough. You’re not lazy. You’re not “not a real writer.” You’re just scared of the long, boring, uncertain middle part: practice.

You want to write like your favorite authors. You want your dialogue to be compelling and not cringe. You want your prose to be unique but note weird. But when someone tells you, “you just have to practice,” it feels like a scam.

It’s frustrating because the reality is there’s no secret spell or an enchanted pen. But it’s actually just:

opening the doc
writing the thing
hating it
rewriting it
eventually liking it

Rinse. Repeat. Cry a little. Romanticize the suffering. Repeat again.

No One’s Coming to Save Your Draft

It’s comforting to imagine some writing godmother arriving like: “Darling, here is your perfect outline, complete with tension arcs, voice consistency, and your main character’s emotional wound resolved in Act Three.”

But no. You have to do the thing. You have to write the messy scene. Make the plot mistake. Hate your second act. Fix it anyway.

Practice isn’t glamorous. It’s not aesthetic. It’s “rewriting this one scene for the 7th time because your villain suddenly got a redemption arc and now the politics don’t make sense.”

It’s boring sometimes. But it’s also fulfilling.

Perfection Is a Scam

Perfectionism is just procrastination wearing a fake mustache.

It whispers: “Don’t write unless it’s GOOD.” “Don’t post it unless it’s PERFECT.” “Don’t start that new WIP until you’ve mastered prose, structure, theme, genre, and symbolism.”

No. Stop that.

You get better by doing. Every cringe line you write today is a bridge to your best chapter tomorrow. You don’t level up by thinking about writing—you level up by writing badly, bravely, consistently.

What If You Succeed?

Let’s flip the anxiety.

You’ve probably thought:

“What if I write and it’s bad?”
But have you considered:
“What if I write and it’s amazing?”
“What if this weird little scene turns into something people quote on Tiktok in five years?”
“What if I finish this book and fall in love with it?”

I’m just saying. Fear of failure is loud, but fear of success can be sneakier—and just as paralyzing.

Practice Like It Matters.

Your writing is like a baby dragon. If you don’t feed it (words), it won’t grow. If you feed it only once a month, it will be weak and bitey and prone to setting your plot on fire.

But if you show up—imperfect, undercaffeinated, maybe slightly feral, and give it your effort?
It gets stronger. You get stronger. Eventually, writing feels less like a struggle and more like flying. Not every time, but often enough to keep going.