WRITING TIPS FOR BEGINNERS
- Cully Perlman
- Feb 17
- 11 min read
So, you’ve decided to write a novel. Or a short story. Or poems, a screenplay, a novella, a whatever. Congrats! Welcome to the world of writing. Writing is an exciting art form that, for many, is a calling rather than a hobby (though it’s absolutely fine if your journey into writing is a hobby rather than a calling). Serious writers, or writers who take writing seriously, anyway, often clash (or are dismissive of) people who don’t understand what it takes to be a published author. Published authors put time and effort into the craft of writing, and a lot of it. Just like any other career or craft, you don’t just sit down one day and become a master at whatever you’re trying to do. Many of us are familiar with the term “the ten thousand hour rule,” which refers to the need to spend ten thousand hours doing something in order to “master” it. There are exceptions, of course. Geniuses, prodigies, whatever you want to call them. Mozart. Picasso. Pascal. John Stuart Mill. You’re not one of them. Or, I hope you are. But you’re probably not. And that’s fine. But if you want to write, there’s a few things, writing tips for beginners, if you will, that you’ll want to focus on and take advantage of prior to beginning (and during the process of) writing.
The first Masters of Fine Arts program in creative writing in America was at the University of Iowa. Iowa started the first “workshop” type of format, in 1936, and then blew up after WWII. The University of Iowa (Iowa Writer’s Workshop) is always ranked #1 in MFA creative writing programs, and it seems like everyone who goes there eventually publishes something noteworthy. But that’s neither here nor there—good writing is good writing, and while a great novel may not get published but a poor one might, it shouldn’t matter to the writer. It’s just part of the game of writing, and you’re either good with it or you’re not. If you’re not, you may want to consider doing something else, something with better odds at succeeding, whatever succeeding means to you. Anyway, here are some writing tips for beginners:

Read. A lot. And read everything you can. Obviously you’re going to want to read things you enjoy reading, but you should always try to be open to other genres (fantasy, sci-fi, literary fiction, etc.), other forms of writing (nonfiction, creative nonfiction, etc.), and authors you may, for whatever reason, find intimidating. Unlike when books were published a century ago (I’m thinking James Joyce’s Ulysses here), these days we have guides that unravel the mysteries of the great novels inaccessible to us previously. There is much to learn (and appreciate) in works we once found too difficult to access on our own or without taking a class where a professor explained to us everything we were missing.
Write. A lot. I can’t say this enough. Write every day. Work on a short story. A poem. A novel. A blog post. Whatever. But write. The only way to ride a bike is to jump on the seat of one and peddle. The same is true about writing. The more you read and write, the better you’ll become at writing. Here’s something that I’ll admit, because at this point in my writing life and career, I’m completely open about, well, pretty much everything. I have a BA in English Literature. An MA in English Literature. An MFA in Creative Writing. And I’ve been published in online and print journals, have had a novel published, and have about nine novels in various stages, including three out with agents (I’m querying them), and I couldn’t tell you what a dangling participle is to save my life. I can’t tell you if it’s lay or lie probably 99% of the time, even if I’m looking at the definition for each in the dictionary. But I write constantly. And I read constantly. And because I’ve done it for so long, I just naturally get most of it right. It’s like muscle memory at this point. I can sit down in front of a computer or a blank sheet of paper, and I can go. I can start a novel and go until I’m done. Will there be a lot of things I get rid of? Absolutely. Will some of it be good? Yep. Will some of it be horrible? Hell yes. But I’ve done this so long that I know that just because you have a hundred ingredients doesn’t mean you need to use them all. Sometimes you have to add a little dialogue. Other times, a sprinkle of character building. A dash of plot development. And the only way to know if you’re doing the best you can is by writing your way out of the crap and into something maybe not so crappy. Because if you’re a serious writer, you know that you’re going to write way more than you’re ever going to use for your novel or story or whatever it is you’re pouring your heart into.
Edit. A lot. I know, I know. I’m using “A lot” a lot. Good. It’s called repetition, and I’m doing it on purpose. Repetition is something that emphasizes. Repetition creates a rhythm. A mood. It makes you, the reader, remember what I, the writer, wants you to remember. It helps with clarity and other things we writers do in terms of the tools at our disposal. And repetition is one of the tools you can leverage in your fiction when you’re editing. You can do it during first drafts, too, but you’re a beginning writer, right? So, I’m going to mention things like this here because I want you to understand what it takes to be a writer. Editing is probably the most important thing you can do as a writer after writing your first draft. Without a first draft, you have nothing to work with. After the first draft, you’ll be editing your manuscript until you’re done with it, which, if you’re like me, is more letting it go than being done with it. Like most serious writers, there’s always something I feel I can improve, both in unpublished works and those already out there in print or on the interwebs. It’s just the way it is.

Editing is a process. It’s painful. It’s exciting. It’s clarifying. It’s tedious. It’s a lot of things, but the main thing that it is is this: necessary. Writing, as they say (whoever they is), is rewriting. And it’s the truth. Think of your first draft like a sculptor thinks of a piece of clay: the sculpture is in the clay already—you just have to take away the excess and bring the sculpture out of that clay. You may have to cut large chunks out of your manuscript. You may have to add pieces or paragraphs back in. Get rid of characters. Add some in. Polish certain chapters. And on and on. Oscar Wilde has been attributed this quote about writing: "I was working on the proof of one of my poems all the morning and took out a comma. In the afternoon—well, I put it back again". The point is that editing is about the search for perfection, even when we all know perfection, or at least us, as writers, achieving that perfection, is impossible. But we keep editing and editing because we’re pros. And as beginners, you have to be willing to push everything you think is genius aside if it improves the work. You have to be relentless. You have to “kill your darlings,” as we say. Nothing is sacred. Nothing can’t be pulled from our manuscripts if it makes our work better. Hemingway said, “The only kind of writing is rewriting.” As a beginning writer, just accept this fact. Don’t fight it. Because if you do, if you think you’re the exception, you’re setting yourself up for failure. Or at least a lot of misery. Because, as I said before, you’re not.
"I was working on the proof of one of my poems all the morning and took out a comma. In the afternoon—well, I put it back again".
--Oscar Wilde
Workshop your Work. We all need input. We need other writers (or readers, if we can’t find any writers to work with) to provide us with constructive feedback/criticism on our work. We need those writers/readers to be completely frank and honest with us. They may be wrong. They may be right. But you, as a beginning writer, needs that feedback like a fish needs water. Never get defensive when someone provides you with feedback, even if you find their feedback insulting. Remember, they took the time to read your work, and they’re giving you their opinion on what you’ve provided them.

Here’s a story I’ll share with you about a novel I’ve been working on for twenty-two years. You read that right—22 years! So, my novel started out as a collection of related short stories. In the publishing and writing world, that’s known as a story cycle. My story cycle was about a WWII bomber pilot—his childhood, his time in the European theater, and his return home. I researched the heck out of WWII and bomber pilots. I watched movies and documentaries. I read books. I interviewed a WWII bomber pilot and spoke to WWII veterans. Then I went to a yearly workshop I go to with other writers. They told me my stories should be a novel. So, I made my collection a novel. I kept editing. I added fight scenes, soldier and pilot scenes, gunner scenes, scenes in Vichy France, scenes about everything I could that took place during the war to make the novel as dramatic as I could. And then I went to grad school to pursue my MFA in creative writing.
Boy, was I in for a surprise. By the time I started grad school, I was well versed in taking and analyzing the feedback other writers provided to me. I used what I believed was the right thing to do, and I disregarded the things other people told me when I didn’t think they were correct in their analysis of what I should change in my manuscript. The novel I had been working on about the WWII bomber pilot is what I used as my thesis. My thesis adviser was a published novelist and short story writer. He said he loved the work. He also said I should consider getting rid of all the WWII stuff, meaning everything that took place during WWII in Europe. He thought I should just keep the stuff before the war and the stuff after the war. Naturally I was hesitant. He said he knew I would be. That he knew how many hundreds if not thousands of hours of research I’d done to get all the details right. But I thought maybe there was something to what he was saying. Hemingway’s iceberg theory came to mind, where 7/8ths of the story is below the surface. From my adviser’s perspective, the war was the 7/8ths that needed to be below the surface. Rather than ignore what he was saying, I did what he said. I rewrote the entire novel without my hero’s time in Europe. And guess what? The novel improved. I still have all the war stuff, and I’ll use it later. I still have it. But I needed to remove it to improve the novel. I’m still working on that novel. It’s not done. Not to my standards, anyway. And you should never sacrifice the standards of your work either. That means working with others whose input your respect. Find a writing group in your neighborhood. If you can’t do that, find one online. Or go get an MFA in creative writing. You can do a low-residency MFA where you only have to meet for ten or twenty days a year, the rest being done online. Attend a writing conference. But work with other writers whenever you can. Everyone needs help. As writers, we get too close to our work. To remedy that, have others who haven’t read your work read it and let you know what they think. The more specific the better. Which leads to our next tip: put your work away, at least for a while.

Put Your Work Away. As writers, we need distance from what we’ve written. Often, we can’t see forest for the trees. We’re so far into the details that we miss things like plot, or setting, whether or not our dialogue or characterization is advancing the plot, and so on. Putting away your writing for at least a month or more helps give us the distance we need from the narrative. So, what do we do? We start another project. We get feedback on what we’ve written. Depending on when we receive that feedback, we can then return to our work. I do that every time. For me, I don’t revisit my novels for at least a year. I’ll have my feedback in a file on my computer (or in hard copy if I went to a workshop). And then, with clear eyes, I’ll begin the revision process. You should do the same. Think of writing as a marathon rather than a sprint, unless you’re writing for a magazine or a newspaper where you’re on a deadline.
Know the Rules. The only way to break the rules (which us authors do to distinguish ourselves from other writers) is to know the rules. Things like “Show don’t Tell,” using active voice instead of passive voice, sticking to shorter sentences for clarity, being concise in your writing, reading your work aloud (not really a rule, but it helps with the musicality of the prose), not overwriting (flowery language where you’re trying to be clever/smart in your writing), and so on. These are things you should understand both during your learning the rules of writing and identifying when you’re breaking rules that you shouldn’t because you don’t yet have the mastery of the craft. Adjectives and adverbs are another thing you should avoid. Or at least use them sparely, for effect. If I’m dropping in an adjective or adverb, it’s more for the shock value or for a shift in style, again, often for the shock value of it.
Write What You Know. This one is one of the pillars of the craft of writing fiction, but it’s misunderstood. Writing what you know doesn’t mean you have to write about your job, or your family, or your neighborhood. You can learn what you don’t know via research, as I did with the details of what a WWII bomber pilot does during their missions. Who they have on their crew. Who does what. How they interact and speak to each other, including any jargon they use, anything that’s not accurate in the movies or books or documentaries, how they feel as the bombs drop. That sort of thing. And you can learn anything—the psychology of zookeepers. What it’s like to have Bipolar II. What CIA agents do and don’t do. Like that. You just want to make sure what you’re writing is believable. And accurate. I was a line cook on and off for twenty something years. If you’re writing about a line cook and you don’t know what you’re talking about, I’ll know. And I’ll put your novel or short story down because I’m not going to read about something I know you know nothing about. Do your research so you’ll know what you’re writing about.

There are other beginning writer rules and practices you should know. I wrote a blog post about what beginning writers should expect called 7 Beginning Writers’ Expectations That are Simply Unrealistic. Read it. I also wrote another one called 15 Signs You May be a Beginning Writer. Read that too so you can evaluate where you’re skills are at in the craft. Any of them sound familiar? As I said, writing is hard, but once you’ve completed a first draft and worked on it, there’s no better feeling than creating something out of nothing that you can share with others. You got this. Just stick to it. Trust me, once it’s in your blood, it ain’t going anywhere.
Cully Perlman is author of a novel, THE LOSSES. He is also a Substantive Editor. Have a novel you need some help with? Contact him at Cully@novelmasterclass.com

*Any commissions from affiliate sites are probably calculated in pennies. Or, now that they’ve discontinued making them, hopefully nickels. In order for me to continue paying for hosting and platform fees, your purchases will help keep this blog free to you.




I agree that you can research anything to "know" enough about it to write. But lately I've been thinking that "write what you know" applies to "write something you've experienced." Or "write what you know emotionally." If you haven't experienced death, or had a bad relationship, then you cannot write about those things. I saw a video a few years ago about why movies suck. The premise was that they are written by people so young they don't have any life experience to convey. Myself, I had nothing to say until I was 40, when I began writing in earnest.