There was a time when writing meant writing.
You sat down. You put words on the page. Someone found them, read them, and maybe—if you were lucky—felt less alone because of them.
Now? Writing feels like the smallest part of the process.
Instead, you’re trying to figure out social media, websites, posts, Instagram, Facebook, LinkedIn, SEO, hashtags, reels, stories, newsletters, engagement metrics, optimal posting times, and whether your font choice is silently killing your reach. All while wondering how you ended up here when all you wanted to do was write and have people read what you write.
Welcome to the quagmire.
The Modern Writer’s Dilemma
If you’re a writer today, you’re not just a writer. You’re a brand. A content strategist. A social media manager. A reluctant marketer. A part-time analyst staring at numbers that don’t tell you whether your words mattered—only whether they were clicked.
You’re told:
- Build a website.
- Post consistently.
- Show up on Instagram.
- Be active on Facebook.
- Optimize LinkedIn.
- Learn SEO.
- Create value.
And somehow do all of this while staying authentic, inspired, and productive.
The irony is painful: the more time you spend trying to get your writing seen, the less time you have to actually write.
Chasing Platforms Instead of Pages
Instagram wants visuals.
Facebook wants engagement.
LinkedIn wants authority.
Your website wants keywords.
Google wants structure.
The algorithm wants… who knows what it wants??????? Anyone? Anyone?
So you slice your writing into captions. You rewrite it for different platforms. You wonder if a sentence is “too long” or if a thought is “too quiet” to survive the scroll. You start thinking in fragments instead of paragraphs.
And slowly, almost without noticing, your relationship with writing changes.
It stops being a place you go.
It becomes something you package.
You post.
You refresh.
You wait
Most writers don’t want viral-ness? Is that a word?
They want resonance.
They want a reader who pauses and nods…..
Someone who thinks, Yes. That. Exactly.
It’s easy to forget that one real reader matters more than a thousand distracted ones. Guess what? none of it works without the thing you already know how to do.
Write.
But if you lose the writing, none of the platforms matter anyway.
Maybe the answer isn’t mastering every platform.
Maybe it’s choosing one place to stand.
One home for your words.
One rhythm you can sustain.
And letting the writing lead again.
Not everything needs to be optimized.
Some things just need to be written.