Many struggling writers wake up one day with a stark realization.

They think: “Wait. I can do this as good as a lot of people who do this professionall.“

Have you ever thought this?

Thinking back, I am not sure I can remember when this first registered for me.

It was probably during grad school, around the time I purposely wrote for the first time.

I hope you are an encouraged as I am here.

I mean, if person X can do it, it’s just a matter of time and work before you too can transition from a competent writer to a good writer.

And I don’t know, maybe even get paid for doing what you love.

I think the same thing is true for blogging too.

Of course, none of this applies to most writers. Because MOST writers quit at some point. They give up.

Don’t be like most writers.

Asteroid Miners (which wasn’t the title, but that’s close enough) was an important book in my life as a reader. Almost everyone can remember losing his or her virginity, and most writers can remember the first book he/ she put down thinking: I can do better than this. Hell, I am doing better than this! What could be more encouraging to the struggling writer than to realize his/ her work is unquestionably better than that of someone who actually got paid for his/ her stuff?

-Stephen King, On Writing

Writing support can, of course, come in a variety of ways.

Often, instead of grants, fellowships, and endowments paying stipends, one just needs an understanding spouse.

Not even a spouse that financially supports us – although that can be nice to.

Much of the time, I think, a writer can flourish if just given a little space and a short word of praise every so often.

If you know a writer, try it sometime. Don’t belittle what they do, and say one nice thing about their writing every 30 days or so.

It might mean the world to them.

My wife made a crucial difference during those two years I spent teaching at Hampden (and washing sheets at New Franklin Laundry during the summer vacation). If she had suggested that the time I spent writing stories on the front porch of our rented house on Pond Street or in the laundry room of our rented trailer on Klatt Road in Hermon was wasted time, I think a lot of the heart would have gone out of me. Tabby never voiced a single doubt, however. Her support was a constant, one of the few good things I could take as a given. And whenever I see a first novel dedicated to a wife (or a husband), I smile and think, There’s someone who knows. Writing is a lonely job. Having someone who believes in you makes a lot of difference. They don’t have to make speeches. Just believing is usually enough.

-Stephen King, On Writing