Ever feel like you’re capable of more, but can’t quite break through? That’s potential talking. Every writer I know has it. Some are sitting on mountains of it. But here’s the truth about potential—it’s worthless unless you act on it.
Aristotle had a word for this. “Dunamis”. The latent power of becoming. He saw potential as real, not imaginary. A seed isn’t just a seed. It’s a tree in waiting. But for that to happen, it needs the right conditions and, most importantly, action.
Writers aren’t any different. I’ve been around this writing game long enough to see a hard truth. Most of us don’t come close to what we’re capable of. Me undoubtedly included.
Why?
It’s not because we’re lazy. Writers are some of the most disciplined people I know. It’s not because we lack ideas. If anything, our heads are overcrowded with them.
The real problem? Fear and friction.
Fear of rejection. Fear of not being good enough. Fear of writing something that falls flat. Fear that your next book won’t live up to the last one.
And then there’s friction. Distractions, cluttered headspace, and that nagging voice that says it’s safer to stay where you are than push forward.
Viktor Frankl—a man who understood survival and meaning better than most—said that success can’t be pursued directly. It has to result from fulfilling a purpose greater than yourself.
In plain English: if you want to unlock your potential as a writer, you need a why. Not a bestseller list. Not an advance. Not applause. But a why.
It could be telling the story only you can tell. It could be shining a light on something that matters. It could be proving to yourself that you can do it.
But potential without direction? It rots.
Something I learned from years of policing, coroner work, and writing is this. Big breakthroughs are built on small, consistent moves.
A page a day. A scene every week. A query letter sent. An uncomfortable rewrite.
Over time, these small acts compound. Like interest in the bank. Yes, compound interest which Einstein said was the eighth wonder of the world. That’s how you turn potential into pages and pages into a book.
Three Ways to Start Unlocking Your Potential
Here are three practical strategies that helped me more than I realized at the time:
- Write with urgency. Stop waiting for the “perfect time” to write. It doesn’t exist. If you’ve got ten minutes, use it.
- Find your friction, then kill it. Is it social media? A cluttered workspace? A manuscript you dread opening because you’re scared it’s not good enough? Identify what’s slowing you down and remove it.
- Don’t do this alone. Every writer needs allies — critique groups, mentors, writing partners, trusted readers. Writing may be solitary, but growth isn’t.
The Writer’s Edge
If you’re a crime, thriller, or suspense writer, your stories already live in tension, uncertainty, and danger. But here’s the secret. Your potential as a storyteller is as suspenseful as any plot twist you’ll ever write.
It’s unknown. It’s waiting. And it’s yours to chase… or abandon.
The best writers I know aren’t the most talented. They’re the ones who took their potential seriously — and acted on it. And that’s your invitation.
Ask yourself today:
- Am I where I could be?
- Am I willing to do what it takes to get there?
- What am I avoiding that would unlock my next level?
Your potential as a writer isn’t some lofty idea. It’s real. It’s waiting.
And the best time to tap into it? It’s now.
Kill Zoners — Is there anyone out there who feels they’ve tapped out their true potential?
This: “Big breakthroughs are built on small, consistent moves.”
While it’s a slow process, I’m starting to get this through my thick skull–that I need to make consistent progress, even if its only a tiny little bit at a time.
There’s much irony in my writing life. 15-20 years ago, I had much more physical energy but didn’t complete writing projects because perfectionism won out. I worked on several projects but never finished & released them into the world.
Now, the reality of aging and fewer years left to dink around have helped tamp down some of the perfectionism, but the lack of physical energy keeps progress slow. And I don’t care what anybody says, I don’t think there are 24 hours in each day. 😎
I will also vouch for the fact that we need community. Joining efforts with a co-writer a couple of years ago has forced me to be accountable and finish a project. And we’re now working on project #2. And that has helped stir me up to go back and begin working on one of my solo projects again.
I have no lack of ideas. And bringing something to completion with a writing partner has made me more optimistic about finishing & releasing a solo work (even if at a slow pace). And the tedium of the business side of writing (the labor and the expense) gives more incentive to keep writing to make all the tedium & expense worth your while.
The bottom line: It’s all still worth it because there’s nothing like those times you get “in the zone” with your writing.
Nice, heartfelt comment and self-relection, Brenda. My big breakthrough came two years ago when I came to truly understand the principles of compounding and entropy and how they govern the universe. It’s been game-changing. Enjoy your day!
Great article, Garry. Thanks for the inspiration.
And thank you, Bryan. Hope it was helpful 🙂
I think I’m beginning to find my potential. Thanks for an excellent pep talk. I needed it.
You’re most welcome, Brian.
Garry, this is gold. Brenda already quoted one brilliant line. Another line that jumped out at me is: “Your potential as a storyteller is as suspenseful as any plot twist you’ll ever write.”
We can’t predict the future. We don’t know what’s around the next bend. All we can do is make the most of this moment right now, show up, and do the work.
Thanks for the excellent inspiration, buddy!
Good morning, Debbie. You can’t predict the future, but you certainly can shape it by showing up and doing the work. Somewhere in physics there’s a principle in thermodynamics concerning the potential to do work. I think it’s the 2nd law, and we can apply that to our writing day. And enjoy yours!
Excellent, inspiring post, Garry. Your “three ways” to harness writing potential and the three questions to ask yourself are terrific springboards.
Knowing we still have so much untapped potential can keep us in this writing game, it certainly does me. Striving to level up with each new novel and story, continuing to hone our craft, writing with urgency, removing frictions and asking* for help, these are all things we can control.
Just like improvement, harnessing our potential never ends. We can always tap into more.
*We can always ask, agreeing to help is outside of our direct control, but it’s almost guaranteed we will find help if we ask, in my experience.
Thanks for today’s post!
Hi Dale. I’m of the glass half full mindset and feel there is much more potential in most of us than we realize. I’m also a fan of emerging technology but, so far, I haven’t found a “Potential Ap” that beats the butt in chair and fingers on keys method.
Very timely post for me, Garry.
I’m currently in a writing Gobi and not sure what to do about it. If anything. Very uncomfortable spot, like having a rock in my shoe but no hands to get it out.
You’ve given me a plateful of food for thought.
I’m going like, “What’s a writing Gobi?” so I Googled it. Of course, a writing desert. I think the main takeaway from today’s piece is we have to know our “Why”. You probably know it already. Enjoy your day, Deb, and keep trekking.
😎😎😎
A need for perfection is a big killer. I just finished answering a question on Quora from someone who struggled with description. I told them that good description in the first draft was one of my weaknesses as a writer, but I knew it was a weakness so I’d add description in my second draft. New writers are worried about getting that first sentence and page right to the point they can’t move past that to the story. Just tell the bloody story and fix the messes in the rewrites.
This sounds like the advice Stephen King gives in “On Writing”. Happy Thursday, Marilynn!
For some reason, Kris (P.J. Montee) isn’t able to post her reply. This is from Kris:
On another subject. I can’t seem to post a response to today’s post by Garry. If someone can post this for me, I’d appreciate it! Kris Montee aka PJ
Am retired now from novel-writing. (Confining myself to short stories). But still doing workshops. Man, are you right nose-on about self-constriction. Your “write with urgency” is something I try to impress on writers who are, well, constipated with expectations. I often start workshops off with the 10-minute drill. I give each of them an object (a piece of lace, an old sock monkey, a jar of olives) and they get 10 minutes to produce a first-page in long-hand using the object.
I am always amazed at the great stuff they come up with. And the look on their faces when they realize what they have done.
Long live long-hand and cursive, Kris. May the fundamentals of writing never be replaced by a bot.
I used to enjoy writing – and it didn’t matter that I spent time every day first ‘being a citizen of the world’ (ie, topping off the data, reading the papers, following interesting leads…). I could still find enough left of the day – and more critically the energy of a chronically ill writer – to get enough work done that I made fairly steady progress.
What I have just admitted to myself: I am now older. I am every day sicker and less functional, and I have no margin of safety. I CAN’T AFFORD to do this any more. I HAVE TO FOCUS, sleep if I can’t, and do only the planned and vetted work – if I ever want to finish LIMBO, or even get past this stage.
I CAN’T ‘GO EASY ON MYSELF.’
And I also realized I needed to come up with a simple system to keep track of ‘Writing’ and ‘Everything else’ and to keep my desk clear – because I can’t do that quickly any more, or some days at all. [The new system was created today, and I’m putting everything into it.]
It’s a sobering thought – I can’t do most things in-mind. I have to do them in writing, and in an orderly fashion. No more of the free sense of ‘FLOW’ I use to take for granted.
I’ll get to the flow, maybe, probably, but the diversions (husband ALWAYS seems to know when I just settled down to actually work – half an hour later, he’s off happily with whatever he came for, but I’m a limp dishrag from dealing with a one-of-a-kind interruption/diversion that took all my flexibility for the day) are sucking up any energy and adaptability and even capacity for invention I had.
At 75, I probably should have expected this. You’d think I’d be used to being sick – well, that doesn’t happen; it just keeps getting harder.
And the most important question is: do I want to finish my magnum opus or not?
Always comes back “yes.”
A good look at my work habits told me they needed major upgrading, even with the writing assistant, PR person, and home assistant I have – which actually take more energy to manage than you’d think, especially in the start-up phase.
I have NO FEAR. I dumped IMPOSTOR SYNDROME years ago. My writing skills are more than up to the task.
But the FRICTION is killing the FICTION, and I won’t have that.
Today we had a water main break – no water still, at 7pm.
And the AC was out because of the power cycling – just came back.
Friction is winning, my friends.