by Amin Amouhadi

Writing is a skill, and like any other, practice makes one better at it. This rather banal platitude, I will explain, should invoke a pregnant pause. What do we mean by ‘writing is a skill’? We are familiar with other skills, like swimming, driving, etc. What is common to them all is that there is some level mastery of which turns those skills into automatic behavior. After learning how to drive, we hardly ever think of synchronizing our eye movements with our hands on the wheel. They are automatically synched. So is the case with swimming. Before learning how to swim, we are cautious of our bodily movements as we try to keep our heads above water. After learning, however, we swim seamlessly without paying any attention to every move we make.    

To what extent, then, is writing a skill in the same way that swimming or driving is one? Unlike drivers and swimmers, even the most seasoned writers continuously think about their choice of words and narrative structures when they write a piece. If writing is a skill, then practice has to improve it. What is it, if any, that is being improved in writing as a result of practice?

Unlike drivers and swimmers, even the most seasoned writers continuously think about their choice of words and narrative structures when they write a piece.

To answer this question, let us go back to the swimming analogy. While it is true that when one masters how to swim, one does not need to practice trivial moves yet, becoming a better swimmer requires constant practice and learning new moves. Similarly, one becomes a better writer by practicing and learning new ways of expression. The ultimate goal of writing, in my view, is to gain mastery over what you want to express and how to do it. 

The ultimate goal of writing, in my view, is to gain mastery over what you want to express and how to do it. 

Expression of content, however, is not necessarily targeted towards readers other than yourself. Indeed, sometimes the best way of thinking about your ideas is to write them down and continue your thought process in writing from there. This way, writing becomes the continuation of thinking rather than its subsidiary. The audience and the writer, in this case, are the same. Yet, the expressive power of writing produces a dialogue between two trains of thought. 

When the audience is not the writer, the expressive power of writing can only be gauged based on its reception. The sad stories of the writers who were not appreciated in their time are a testament that readers have an undeniably formative power over the fate of pieces of writing. 

A prudent writer knows the readers, their taste, and the content with which they can communicate. Knowing these, by no means, should compromise the integrity of the writer and the message. Instead, it equips the writer with the necessary means to keep the conversion open by addressing the reader’s concerns. 

A prudent writer knows the readers, their taste, and the content with which they can communicate.

Writing, either for oneself or for others, always shapes its form and content in conversations. Knowing how to keep a good conversation going is a skill whose mastery needs constant engagements with different interlocutors. After every fruitful dialogue, there is a sense of enrichment on all sides. And after every piece of writing, there should be the same sense of enhancement and satisfaction. The more satisfaction you feel, the better writer you are.