What Is the Purpose of Writing?

Welcome to “Ask the Coach.” As a writing coach, I answer questions from writers about making the work of writing happen, tackling craft, business, and personal questions along the way. (Have a question you’d like answered? Check the details at the end of the article about how to submit one.)

Today I’m responding to a few readers in one article, in response to their submissions to my recent survey about the classes, workshops, and programs I teach.

Their comments and questions coalesced around the purpose of writing:

“It's not the writing as much as the writing with a purpose. What's the end goal? What are the strategies?”

“I am once again struggling with the demon that says writing somehow isn't enough. That it's not enough of a purpose to justify my life, particularly as publishing keeps saying ‘no’ to my knocking.”

“What is my writing purpose?”

How do I write with purpose? Is writing enough of a purpose? What is my writing purpose? What is the purpose of writing?

Similar questions, but with varying shades of intent. I suspect these are questions all writers ask periodically, though the specifics may vary for each of us. These overlap with the commonality of purpose.

The trickiest part of navigating one’s purpose as a writer — let’s be so bold as to say “life purpose” — is the way our work is validated by the external world, and in a capitalist society no less. Especially when we create work with gatekeepers and thresholds to overcome, the “end goal” can feel like a moving, shifting target; we’re laden with the seemingly-Sisyphean task of trying to break in, crack the code, or discover the secrets of how to be read, repped, produced, and/or published.

But if that’s the only purpose of writing, maybe it’s time to reconsider.

At the same time, we also have to pay the bills (see “capitalist society,” above), so there’s a natural desire to marry our purpose with pay. Getting paid for what you love seems like the cleanest and clearest path to happiness and earning an income that doesn’t suck.

It doesn’t always work out that way, at least not the way we’d like.

I’ve loved Elizabeth Gilbert’s philosophy about writing — that it’s her job to pay the bills and to take care of herself and nurture her writing, not that her writing is meant to pay the way. (I’m sure writing is paying well for her, now, but from what she says, she holds that as a blessing that may not last forever.)

But if writing for you — as it is for me — feels like what you were put here to do, what do you do?

After all, writing isn’t exactly the most time-efficient endeavor. (Perhaps this underlies the desire for some writers and many tech bros to have AI take over some or all of the work, something I fervently oppose.) This means we’re investing a lot of time, energy, and often money into developing our writing abilities and doing the work itself. And it may mean we have to hold down another “day job” to pay the bills in the meantime.

Some writers hold that the “practice” of writing is what’s most valuable, much in the way a meditation practice or yoga practice doesn’t focus on an outcome but on the regularity and consistency of it. Yes, there are benefits of these, but the practice is the focus.

Personally, I find that alone unsatisfying.

I prefer the perspective that artists can and should be engaged with an audience as well as pursuing writing for the practice of it. There is a certain energy exchange that occurs when we put work out into the world and receive feedback in the form of appreciation from those who enjoy it, as well as criticism of it from those who do not.

Not all artists and creators share this view. They prefer to make work for themselves as the primary and potentially only audience. That’s their choice, and that’s OK.

For the sake of exploration, let’s look a little more closely at each of our commenters’s questions.

Our first inquirer — a screenwriter — asks, “It's not the writing as much as the writing with a purpose. What's the end goal? What are the strategies?”

I’ll share that I’ve recently undergone a bit of a transformation in this department myself. As a screenwriter, I’ve focused on writing scripts to help build my strengths and skills alongside my “brand” (sci-fi with a mystical tone). The way I’ve changed my orientation — for the moment — is to prioritize more salable scripts that fit what I enjoy writing. A number of the scripts I’ve written would require larger budgets to produce, so my current purpose is to develop something that’s an easier “Yes” for an industry executive. This is the strategy I’m adopting.

Your situation may be different than mine, though I know you mentioned looking for ways to get read and repped in the rest of your question, so I suspect you’re looking for a similar approach. If your ultimate end goal is being a produced screenwriter, look at your overall body of work and see if your scripts are salable and market-ready, while still representing who you are as a writer. I’m not suggesting you “sell out,” but rather that you focus your efforts on work that appeals to the marketplace, alongside continuing to improve your skills. 

RELATED: Recovering From a Writer’s Dark Night of the Soul

At the same time, I firmly believe in writing with a deeper purpose. Who are you? What are you about as a human on this planet right now? What makes you angry? What do you care deeply about? What inspires you? What do you want to share with others? You’ll find your best work in these places.

To my mind, the goal is to marry purposeful depth with marketability, in order to achieve the end goal of being produced.

Our second commenter — a novelist — says, “I am once again struggling with the demon that says writing somehow isn't enough. That it's not enough of a purpose to justify my life, particularly as publishing keeps saying no to my knocking.”

I see multiple layers to this comment. On the one hand, novel writing has a different kind of gatekeeping to it than for screenwriting, though both types of writers could choose to self-publish in prose form, or for a screenwriter, to self-produce as an indie film. Both therefore share a commonality of having external gatekeepers validating the quality of the written product, which can be exhilarating or devastating, depending on the outcome.

Again, we have to ask ourselves, what is the purpose of writing?

Is it to sell something?

To make a mark on the world? To share a message? A vision?

All of these? More?

When I spoke with my mentor the other day, I found myself saying something like, “I can’t not write.” As much as it tortures me at times, as much as I get frustrated with wishing I too was further down the field, I also can’t help loving it.

When I write, I feel like myself.

When I write, I know who I am and what I think.

When I write, I create worlds I long to invite people into.

When I write, I express myself in a way I can’t otherwise imagine being able to do.

Is that a big enough purpose?

Is purpose only valuable if measurable through sales and external validation?

To me, it’s ideally so many things. Meaningful work that allows me to express myself and share it with others.

To that end, even if I never again land a paid writing gig or sell a script, and even if a publisher rejects novella versions of my screenplays, I will still put my work in the world and make a go of selling it on my own.

RELATED: How Can I Focus On My Own Unique Voice?

So my question to you is this: would you truly want to give up writing as “not enough”? Or is it perhaps your own end goal that requires adjustment? One of the greatest frustrations is to put your goals in the hands of others, e.g. to be traditionally published, where someone else gets to decide. Perhaps you want to bring your fortunes back into your own control by pursuing self-publishing, so that you can get your work into the hands of the audience that’s waiting to read your stories, even if they don’t know it yet.

Alternatively, perhaps there’s a similar strategy as I suggested for the screenwriter above, where you look for the overlap in the Venn diagram of your purposeful writing and the marketplace.

Our final inquirer — an essayist — says, “What is my writing purpose?”

In this case, I believe this writer is reflecting on what purpose they want to serve with their writing. In other words, they’re wondering what they are best positioned to write about and to express, what messages and meanings to focus on. As with our first questioner, look back at the questions I posed about deeper purpose: Who are you? What are you about as a human on this planet right now? etc.

You might also like the book by Felicia Day, called Embrace Your Weird: Face Your Fears and Unleash Creativity (Bookshop link*). It focuses on helping you explore your unique take on the world and what’s important to you. In the coaching work I do, I use a process called “Embrace Your Essential Self” to help you tune into your values, gifts, talents, topics, and focus, with a similar intent.

It’s about finding who you are, who you want to be, and sharing that with the world. To my mind, that’s your writing purpose.

Writing with purpose means being who we are in the world and expressing the unique insights and perspectives we bring to the table. It means being who we are here to be. Whether we choose to focus on writing for the sake of the practice, make strategic choices to meet both ourselves and the market, or put our work out in the world ourselves, we write because we are writers. It’s enough because it’s who we are. We are, perhaps, burdened with glorious purpose.

* referral link, which helps me keep the writing ship afloat.

Screenwriters, what challenges and blocks are you wrestling with right now? Share them with me for support and suggestions, take the survey, or email me directly at askthecoach@calledtowrite.com. Look for answers to selected questions in the monthly “Ask the Coach” column on the third Thursday of the month.

Find me on Bluesky @jennaavery.bsky.social.