Publishing a book is supposed to feel like a finish line. Yet many writers arrive on the other side of release and find… silence. No clear next step. No surge of momentum. Just the quiet reality of having put something into the world. If you’re standing in that space wondering what comes next, you’re not off track — you’ve simply reached the part of the writing life few people talk about.
If you’ve ever caught yourself thinking, Maybe I’m getting too old for this writing dream, I want you to pause right there. Not because the concern isn’t real — many writers quietly wrestle with it — but because the conclusion so often is. Writing doesn’t have an expiry date. What it does require, especially over time, is a smarter, kinder way to stay in the work for the long haul.
Spend any time writing in a popular genre and the moment will come: you read a new release and feel that flicker of recognition. Similar beats. Familiar character types. Maybe even a setting that feels close to home. Before the panic sets in, it’s worth understanding how genre markets actually function — and why a certain level of similarity is not just normal, but expected.
You’re feeling good about your manuscript… right up until you pick up a brilliant book in your genre. Suddenly the confidence drains out of the room and your brain starts running comparisons you never asked for. If reading sometimes knocks the wind out of your writing momentum, you’re not failing — you’re experiencing something almost every working writer goes through. Let’s talk about why it happens and how to keep moving anyway.
Many aspiring writers carry a quiet worry: My vocabulary isn’t strong enough to write a good book. It’s an understandable fear — and one that has discouraged far too many capable storytellers. The reassuring truth is that powerful writing rarely depends on impressive vocabulary. More often, it depends on clarity, precision and voice. Let’s gently separate the myth from the craft.
If traditional writing advice has ever made you feel like your brain missed the memo, you’re not alone. So much craft guidance assumes neat routines, tidy outlines and predictable focus — and many writers quietly struggle to fit that mould. The truth? Plenty of brilliant fiction is written by minds that don’t work in straight lines. Let’s talk about how to write well when your brain prefers a different operating system.
When a character communicates without speaking, many writers find themselves hesitating over the keyboard. How do you show signed conversation clearly… respectfully… and without turning it into a formatting distraction? Writing Deaf characters well is less about technical tricks and more about thoughtful storytelling choices. Let’s walk through what actually works on the page.
There’s a quiet assumption in writing circles that once a story matters, it must be published. Not so. Some of the most powerful local stories arrive in the market too early — not because the writing is weak, but because the timing isn’t right yet. Before you rush to release deeply place-based work, it’s worth understanding what seasoned publishing professionals look for in true market readiness.
Plagiarism is one of those words that can quietly rattle even careful writers. The line between influence and infringement often feels blurrier than it really is — especially when you read widely and write inside familiar genres. The good news is that the boundary is far clearer (and far less frightening) than most people think. Let’s walk through where plagiarism actually begins — and where it firmly does not.
Few questions unsettle writers more than this one: Where exactly does plagiarism begin? In a world where we read widely and absorb stories constantly, the line can feel blurrier than it really is. The good news is that Australian copyright law — and professional publishing practice — draw that boundary far more clearly than most writers realise. Let’s walk through it.
Many poets believe a collection is simply a container for their strongest work. It isn’t. A true poetry book asks for something quieter and far more deliberate — cohesion, restraint, and emotional movement. If you’re preparing a manuscript and wondering why your poems don’t quite sit together yet, this gentle guide will help you see what the strongest collections understand
Somewhere along the way, writing picked up a strange expectation — that it only counts if it ends in publication. If you’ve ever felt quietly resistant to that pressure, you’re not imagining it. Plenty of writers don’t want the platform, the launch, or the algorithm. They just want the page. And the truth is, that choice is far more legitimate than the hustle culture would have you believe.
