For writers who already feel “different” — dyslexic writers, ADHD writers, multilingual writers, anyone who’s been told their writing is sloppy or incorrect — dictation can feel exposing. But here’s the thing I wish someone had told me earlier: Dictation isn’t about speed. It’s about separation.
I didn’t start dictating because I was being clever. I started because my hands were tired, my brain was loud, and every time I tried to type a “proper” first sentence, my thoughts ran off without me.
So I talked instead. Into my phone. Into my laptop. Sometimes into the Notes app while standing in the kitchen, waiting for the kettle to boil.
And for a while, I felt like I had to explain myself. This is just a draft. I’ll clean it up later.
I don’t normally write like this.
What I was really doing was asking permission.
Why Dictation Feels So Awkward at First
Dictation makes a lot of writers uncomfortable — not because it doesn’t work, but because it breaks the image we’ve been taught to hold of what writing looks like.
We picture fingers on a keyboard, silence and clean sentences appearing in order. Dictation is the opposite of that. It’s verbal. It’s messy. You hear yourself think in real time — including the hesitations, the backtracks, the half-formed ideas.
For writers who already feel “different” — dyslexic writers, ADHD writers, multilingual writers, anyone who’s been told their writing is sloppy or incorrect — dictation can feel exposing.
But here’s the thing I wish someone had told me earlier: Dictation isn’t about speed. It’s about separation.
Separating Thinking From Encoding
When you dictate, you’re not trying to write perfectly. You’re just trying to get the thinking out. Spelling doesn’t matter yet. Grammar doesn’t matter yet. Neatness absolutely does not matter yet. That’s the point.
For many writers, especially those carrying a high language load, trying to think and encode at the same time is exhausting. Dictation lets those two jobs happen separately.
First: thinking.
Later: shaping.
That separation alone can be enough to unblock a stalled project.
But It Sounds Bad When I Say It Out Loud
Yes. Sometimes it does. That doesn’t mean you’re bad at writing. It means spoken language and written language are different beasts — and you’re hearing the raw version before it’s had a chance to settle.
Here’s what helped me:
- reminding myself that no one else has to hear the draft
- allowing repetition and rambling on purpose
- trusting that editing is a different skill, for a different day
If you can tell a story to a friend, you can dictate a draft. The polish comes later.
Practical Ways Writers Actually Use Dictation
This isn’t an all-or-nothing method. Most writers I know use dictation selectively. For example:
- first drafts only
- journalling or memoir sections
- difficult scenes that won’t unlock
- outlining by talking instead of typing
- capturing ideas while walking
Built-in tools are often enough:
- Google Docs voice typing
- Microsoft Word dictation
- phone dictation apps for on-the-go drafts
You don’t need fancy software to try this. You just need privacy and permission.
Dictation and Shame
Some writers worry that dictation means the work isn’t really theirs. Let’s be very clear:
- the ideas are yours
- the words are yours
- the voice is yours
The tool is just catching up to you.
The Australian Dyslexia Association and other Australian advocacy groups consistently point out that assistive technology doesn’t give unfair advantage — it provides access. Writing tools are no different.
If dictation helps your ideas survive long enough to be shaped, it’s doing exactly what it should.
If You Want to Try It (Gently)
Here’s a low-pressure way in:
- Set a five-minute timer
- Dictate without stopping
- Don’t read it back immediately
- Walk away
Come back later — maybe tomorrow — and edit as a reader, not a critic.
You’re not trying to prove anything. You’re just making space for your thinking to exist.
Where This Fits in the Bigger Picture
Dictation isn’t for every writer, and it doesn’t have to be permanent. For some, it becomes a core method. For others, it’s a rescue rope they use when the page goes blank. Either way, it belongs in the toolkit.
Remember: the work matters more than the method.
Australian References & Further Reading
Queensland Government – Accessibility and Inclusion resources for digital participation
Australian Dyslexia Association – Assistive technology and adult dyslexia
Australian Human Rights Commission – Access and participation principles