The Lie of “Good Writing” (And What Actually Matters Instead)

Let’s cut through the noise: everyone’s obsessed with being a good writer.

From school to social media to your inner critic whispering, This sentence sucks, we’re trained to believe that writing is something you either “have” or you don’t. Like it’s a magical skill reserved for the naturally gifted or the super academic.

But here’s the truth that’ll set you free (and maybe piss off a few English teachers): “Good writing” isn’t really about grammar, big words, or sounding impressive.

It’s about connection.

Let’s unpack what that actually means—and how chasing perfection might be what’s holding you back.

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“Good” Writing vs. Effective Writing

Plenty of writing is technically flawless and still incredibly boring. You’ve probably read a paper, blog post, or article that checked all the boxes… and left you feeling absolutely nothing.

Why? Because grammar isn’t the goal. Clarity is. Connection is.

You don’t remember writing because it was perfect. You remember it because it hit something real.

So ask yourself:

• Did it make someone feel something?
• Did it get the point across without losing them?
• Did it sound human?

If yes—you’re already ahead of most.

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The Real Reason You’re Overthinking

You’re not trying to write well. You’re trying not to be judged.

That’s what’s really going on when you delete the same sentence five times or reword your intro for the 12th time. You’re not trying to improve clarity—you’re trying to avoid criticism.

That’s normal. That’s human. But it’s also a creativity killer.

The best writers aren’t fearless—they’ve just learned to write despite the fear. They know they’ll cringe at their first drafts. They also know that first drafts are how you get to the good stuff.

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Let Go of the Fancy Words

Somewhere along the way, many of us learned that “good writing” means big words and long sentences. But that’s just academic theater.

Real talk? Clarity > complexity.

If your reader has to work too hard to understand what you’re saying, they won’t feel smart—they’ll feel tired. And they’ll stop reading.

You don’t win points for being difficult to follow. You win trust for being clear.

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Your Voice Is Your Superpower

There’s only one thing in your writing that no one else can copy: you.

That weird analogy only you would make. That dry humor. That honest question you slipped in. That’s your voice—and it’s what people remember.

Stop trying to sound like a writer. Start sounding like you—a version of you that’s focused, thoughtful, and unafraid to speak plainly.

Your voice might not be for everyone, and that’s a good thing. You’re not writing for everyone. You’re writing for your people.

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So What Actually Makes Writing Good?

Let’s redefine it:

• It makes sense.
• It feels real.
• It says something that matters—to someone.
• It respects the reader’s time.
• It’s true to the writer’s voice.

That’s it. That’s the bar. And it’s a lot more powerful (and liberating) than whatever your middle school rubric taught you.

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Final Thought: You Don’t Need to Be a “Good” Writer

You just need to be a writer—someone willing to sit down, face the messy thoughts, and shape them into something others can hold.

Let your writing be honest. Let it be imperfect. Let it be yours.

That’s what people remember anyway.

Not the polish. Not the word count.

But the moment they read something and thought, Oh. Me too.

Keep writing.